Page 76

“I read it. Alex doodled the words.”

“Katie-kins, I’m urging you in the strongest possible terms to drop that line of inquiry. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” she stammered. “And of course. Consider it dropped.”

Charlie exhaled in relief.

“Can I ask about Alex’s mother and if you’ve turned up anything on her?”

Charlie’s shoulders went rigid once more and he painted on a ghastly imitation of a smile. Whoa. What was up with Alex’s mother that had her uncle so freaked out?

He spoke so quietly she had to strain to hear him. “Claudia Kane. That was her name. She was American.”

“Was? Is she dead?”

“Her file is closed.”

God, she wished she knew how to interpret that. If only Alex were here to dig through all the innuendo and doublespeak. She made careful note of Charlie’s body language to describe to Alex later. Her uncle swallowed convulsively and wiggled an uncomfortable shoulder.

“How did she get to Moscow and meet Roman? Was she one of yours? Surely, she was. Civilian Americans didn’t get into Russia easily at that time.”

“Leave it alone, Katie.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m asking you to.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not enough. Alex is falling apart, and he needs answers.”

“Falling apart?” Charlie echoed in quick alarm.

She sighed. “Something happened to him at Gitmo. He was drugged, and he’s been wound very tight ever since.”

“What did they give him?” Charlie demanded.

“I don’t know. I saw two empty syringes. The only one left with serum in was filled with a pale yellow liquid.”

Her uncle frowned. “Scopolamine and the other standard medications are all colorless. Describe to me how tight he’s wound. Is he violent? Psychotic?”

“Nooo,” she answered slowly. “I’d describe him as acting a lot more paranoid than usual. Defensive. Angry. Maybe even a little schizophrenic.”

“Those are not typical symptoms of truth serums. They’re designed to lower inhibitions, not raise false ones. Sounds to me like they hit him with a mind-altering substance of some kind.”

“They who?” she demanded low and urgent. “And why?”

Charlie opened his mouth to answer. Snapped it shut.He knew. But he wasn’t going to tell her.

“Can you at least tell me how long the effects will last?” she pleaded.

“Stuff like that usually runs its course in about a week. Maybe two at the outside. Of course, it’s possible for residual effects to persist for years, or permanently.”

“Don’t tell me that,” she groaned under her breath.

He shrugged apologetically.

“What more can you tell me about his mother, this Claudia Kane?”

“Nothing.”