Page 34

MAX

I nterrogation room number three was bare except for a metal table, two chairs, and a narrow cot against one wall.

The guard occasionally stirred, indicating that he was coming around, but he seemed in no rush.

Max turned to the chief. "Do you want me to throw some water on him?"

"No need. He's coming around," Onegus said, and as if to prove him right, the man groaned and shifted.

They waited in silence as consciousness returned. The guard's eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then sharpened with alarm as he took in his surroundings.

"Where—" He tried to sit up, then groaned and grabbed his head. "What did you do to me?"

He was pretending to be much more disoriented than he really was. Otherwise, he would have spoken in his native Farsi and not in heavily accented English.

"We gave you a nap," Max said conversationally.

The guard's eyes darted between them. "You're making a big mistake. Why did you take me? There will be consequences?—"

"Please," Onegus said calmly. "We can do without the theatrics. Just take a seat in the chair so we can talk like civilized people."

The guy hesitated only for a second before doing as Onegus had commanded and moving from the cot to the chair. That was also the moment he realized that he was no longer wearing his clothes but was dressed in blue scrubs.

"What is this?" He waved a hand over the clothes. "I demand to speak to the Iranian consul?—"

"What is your name?" Onegus asked as calmly as before. "After all, we cannot contact the consulate without knowing who you are."

The guard gaped at the chief. "Rashid Mohammadi."

"Good. Now, Rashid, you're going to answer all our questions truthfully and completely. Understand?"

"Yes," the man said, his eyes looking a little glazed over.

Human minds were remarkably easy to influence, especially when the immortal doing the influencing was as skilled as Onegus. He wasn't a compeller, but thralling worked just as well on humans when applied with skill and precision, and the chief had Rashid completely under his thrall.

"Why were you at the Persian market today?" Onegus asked.

"Shopping," Rashid answered. "I wanted to get some saffron and proper rice."

"You recognized someone you didn't expect to see there. Who were they?"

"Soraya. Wife of Colonel Fareed. And her sister Rana.

" Rashid's brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to remember through fog.

"They were missing. Thought to have been abducted by the rebels, them and their children and their two other sisters and their children.

When I left Iran, Colonel Fareed was still waiting for a ransom demand.

I was shocked to see them in Los Angeles, free and looking like wanton kafirs.

No hijab. Western clothes. But I still knew it was them.

I wanted to call in and report what I saw, but then this one jumped me.

" He pointed at Max. "Where is my phone? Why am I here?"

"Why indeed?" Onegus steepled his fingers. "What are you doing in Los Angeles, Rashid?"

The guy hesitated.

Onegus leaned forward. "Tell me everything, Rashid. You want to tell me everything you know."

"We're part of a major operation." The guard's expression grew animated. "Coordinated attacks across the city." A hint of pride crept into his voice. "We'll strike fear into the hearts of the infidels."

Max's heart started racing as he realized that the merciful Fates might have orchestrated the chance encounter with Soraya to save countless lives.

"What kind of attacks?" Onegus asked, his voice carefully controlled despite how tense his posture had become.

"Bombings. Multiple targets—shopping centers, transit hubs, entertainment venues." Rashid's eyes gleamed with fanatic fervor. "Maximum casualties. We have enough explosives to make September 11 look like fireworks."

The casual discussion of mass murder turned Max's stomach. He couldn't fathom what drove people to such insanity.

It must be the Brotherhood's influence. They didn't care how many humans died in the pursuit of their goal of world domination.

"How many cells are there in the city?" Onegus asked.

"Four. Each cell has its own targets and timetables." Rashid straightened in his chair, clearly proud of being part of something he considered important. "We have fighters from the special forces to assist us."

Onegus and Max exchanged a quick glance. "Special forces?" Onegus asked. "What makes them special?"

"They're the elite," Rashid said, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. "The best of the best. Stronger, faster than normal soldiers. They can do things that seem impossible."

"Elaborate," Onegus commanded. "Give me an example."

"I've seen one lift a car like it weighed nothing.

" Rashid's eyes shone with admiration. "And when they run, they are faster than cheetahs.

They are enhanced, but no one knows how.

It's classified." He leaned forward as if to tell them a secret.

"Sometimes their eyes glow in the dark. Like animals, and sometimes it looks like they have fangs. Maybe they are jinn."

Doomers. As Max had suspected, the Brotherhood was behind this barbaric plan to cause mass casualty events in Los Angeles.

"How many of these special unit soldiers do you have?" Onegus asked.

"Two or three per cell. They are in charge of the operation. We follow their orders."

"But you outrank them, right?" Max asked, picking up on something in Rashid's tone.

The guy's face twisted with resentment. "Rank means nothing to them. They have authority that comes from higher up. We have to obey them."

Of course they did. The Doomers were probably thralling them to follow their commands.

Onegus leaned back. "Let's go back to Colonel Fareed's missing wife. You said that he thinks rebels took her."

Rashid nodded. "He's been going crazy since his wife disappeared."

"He's searching for her?"

"Not exactly searching," Rashid admitted.

"He thinks the rebels took her, his daughters, and the rest of his wife's family as retaliation.

He's been interrogating every rebel sympathizer he can find.

" A slight smirk crossed his face. "Personally, I think she ran away.

The colonel is not an easy man to get along with, and his wife was a hardheaded woman.

They didn't get along. But then the daughters went missing first, and Soraya was distressed.

But seeing them here, dressed like Western whores.

.." He shook his head. "That proved that I was right, and they had all escaped.

The daughters going missing first must have been staged, and Soraya put up a good act. "

Max could feel his temper rise at the disgusting display of misogyny, but he kept his expression neutral.

"Back to the cells," Onegus redirected. "Give me the locations of all of them."

Rashid recited addresses without hesitation, and Max memorized them even though everything was being recorded and they could get the transcript later.

"What's the timeline for these attacks?" Onegus asked.

"Soon. The first one is scheduled for two weeks from now.

A big concert in the Glen Helen Amphitheater.

" He waved his hand. "That harlot Lasusa will be shaking her half-naked ass, and we will send it straight to hell where it belongs, along with all the little harlots that shake their asses to her music.

" Pride colored his voice again. "Los Angeles will burn, and America will remember that the Islamic Republic's reach is long. "

Chills ran down Max's spine as he imagined the carnage. The Glen Helen had a capacity of tens of thousands, and Lasusa was known for filling up stadiums, mostly with preteen girls and their moms.

"Do these special unit soldiers stay with you, or do they stay somewhere else?" Onegus asked.

"They have their own rooms, but we all stay together in the rented mansions." He grinned. "No one thinks to look for revolutionaries in expensive houses."

Revolutionaries, right. Mass murderers. Monsters. That was what they were.

"Where do you store your explosives?" Onegus continued with the questioning.

"With us, of course. We can't just leave them lying somewhere for someone to find. They are not dangerous without the detonators."

Onegus continued the interrogation for a while longer, extracting every detail about the planned attacks, the cell structures, communication protocols, and the enhanced soldiers and their habits. By the end, they had a comprehensive picture of a terror network with embedded Doomer operatives.

"Alright, Rashid," Onegus said. "You are going to forget everything that happened to you today, and you are going to get up, walk over to the cot, and go to sleep. You won't wake up until I tell you that you can. Understood?"

Rashid nodded, walked over to the cot, and lay down.

A moment later, he was snoring.

"Talk about luck," Onegus said, turning to Max.

"What do you want to do with him?" Max asked.

Onegus rubbed a hand over the back of his head.

"I'm thinking. We can't let the others know that we are on to them.

We can either arrange a fatal accident for him, so his disappearance will be explained that way, or we can use him to infiltrate the cells.

To do that, though, I will need Kalugal or maybe even Toven to compel him.

Thralling is too limited. We would also need to implant him with a tracker. "

"I have a better idea," Max said. "Remember the tiny drones the gods brought with them from Anumati? We can ask them for one and have eyes and ears in Rashid's cell without having to rely on him reporting back."

"That's brilliant." Onegus smiled. "I need to call Kian."