jg.thepartner-第4部分

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　〃Are　you　there？〃　asked　Two　smartly。
　〃Yeah；〃　he　said；　hearing　but　not　hearing。
　〃Where's　Patrick？〃　asked　One。
　〃Maybe　he's　in　Brazil。〃
　〃Where　in　Brazil？〃
　Stephano　managed　a　shrug；　a　stiff　one。　〃I　dunno。　It's　a　big　country。〃
　〃We　have　an　outstanding　warrant　for　him；〃　One　said。　〃He　belongs　to　us。〃
　Stephano　shrugged　again；　this　time　a　more　casual　one　as　if　to　say；　〃Big　deal。〃
　〃We　want　him；〃　demanded　Two。　〃And　now。〃　；　　　　〃I　can't　help　you。〃
　〃You're　lying；〃　snarled　One；　and　with　that　both　of　them　joined　together　in　front　of　Stephano's　desk　and　glared　down。　Agent　Two　did　the　talking。　〃We　have　men　downstairs；　outside；　around　the　corner；　and　outside　your　home　in　Falls　Church。　We'll　watch　every　move　you　make　from　now　until　we　get　Lanigan。〃
　〃Fine。　You　can　leave　now。〃
　〃And　don't　hurt　him；　okay？　We'll　be　happy　to　nail　your　ass　if　anything　happens　to　our　boy。〃
　They　left　in　step　and　Stephano　locked　the　door　behind　them。　His　office　had　no　windows。　He　stood　before　his　map　of　the　world。　Brazil　had　three　red　lights；　which　meant　little。　His　head　shook　slowly；　in　plete　bewilderment。
　He　spent　so　much　time　and　money　covering　his　tracks。
　His　firm　was　known　in　certain　circles　as　the　best　at　taking　the　money　and　disappearing　into　the　shadows。　He'd　never　been　caught　before。　No　one　ever　knew　who　Stephano　was　stalking。
　
　Three
　ANOTHER　SHOT　to　rouse　him。　Then　a　shot　to　desensitize　the　nerves。
　The　door　opened　loudly　and　the　room　was　suddenly　lit。　It　filled　with　the　voices　of　many　men；　busy　men；　all　with　a　purpose；　all　with　heavy　feet；　it　seemed。　Guy　gave　orders；　and　someone　growled　in　Portuguese。
　Patrick　opened　and　closed　his　eyes。　Then　he　opened　them　for　good；　as　the　drugs　found　their　mark。　They　hovered　over　him；　busy　hands　everywhere。　His　underwear　was　cut　off；　without　much　finesse；　and　he　lay　bare　and　exposed。　An　electric　razor　began　buzzing；　hitting　his　skin　sharply　at　points　on　the　chest；　groin；　thighs；　and　calves。　He　bit　his　lip　and　grimaced；　his　heart　hammered　away；　though　the　pain　had　yet　to　start。
　Guy　hovered　above　him；　his　hands　still　but　his　eyes　watching　everything。
　Patrick　made　no　effort　to　speak；　but　just　to　be　safe；　more　hands　appeared　from　above　and　slapped　a　thick　strip　of　silver　…duct　tape　over　his　mouth。　Cold　electrodes　were　stuck　to　the　shaved　points　with　alligator　clips；　and　he　heard　a　loud　voice　ask　something　about　〃current。〃　Tape　was　then　applied　over　the　electrodes。　He　thought　he　counted　eight　sharp　spots　on　his　flesh。　Maybe　nine。　His　nerves　were　jumping。　In　his　darkness；　he　could　feel　the　hands　moving　above　him。　The　tape　stuck　hard　to　skin。
　Two　or　three　men　were　busy　in　a　corner；　adjusting　a　device　Patrick　could　not　see。　Wires　were　strung　like　Christmas　lights　across　his　body。
　They　were　not　going　to　kill　him；　he　kept　telling　himself；　though　death　might　be　wele　at　some　point　in　the　next　few　hours。　He　had　imagined　this　nightmare　a　thousand　times　in　four　years。　He　had　prayed　it　would　never　happen；　but　he　always　knew　it　would。　He　always　knew　they　were　back　there；　somewhere　in　the　shadows；　tracking　and　bribing　and　looking　under　rocks。
　Patrick　always　knew。　Eva　was　too　naive。
　He　closed　his　eyes；　tried　to　breathe　steadily　and　tried　to　control　his　thoughts　as　they　scurried　above　him；　preparing　his　body　for　whatever　lay　ahead。　The　drugs　made　his　pulse　race　and　his　skin　itch。
　I　don't　know　where　the　money　is。　I　don't　know　where　the　money　is。　He　almost　chanted　this　aloud。　Thank　God　for　the　tape　across　his　mouth。　I　don't　know　where　the　money　is。
　He　called　Eva　every　day　between　4　P。M。　and　6　P。M。　Every　day。　Seven　days　of　the　week。　No　exceptions　unless　one　was　planned。　He　knew　in　his　pounding　heart　that　she　had　moved　the　money　by　now；　that　it　was　safely　hidden　in　two　dozen　places　around　the　world。　And　he　didn't　know　where　it　was。
　But　would　they　believe　him？
　The　door　opened　again；　and　two　or　three　figures　left　the　room。　The　activity　around　his　plywood　cot　was　slowing。　Then　it　was　quiet。　He　opened　his　eyes　and　the　IV　drip　bag　was　gone。
　Guy　was　looking　down　at　him。　He　gently　took　one　corner　of　the　silver　duct　tape　and　pulled　it　free　so　Patrick　could　talk；　if　he　so　chose。
　〃Thanks；〃　Patrick　said。
　The　Brazilian　doctor　appeared　again　from　the　left　and　stuck　a　needle　in　Patrick's　arm。　The　syringe　was　long　and　filled　with　nothing　but　colored　water；　but　how　could　Patrick　know？
　〃Where　is　the　money；　Patrick？〃　Guy　asked。
　〃I　don't　have　any　money；〃　Patrick　replied。　His　head　ached　from　being　pressed　into　the　plywood。　The　tight　plastic　band　across　his　forehead　was　hot。　He　hadn't　moved　in　hours。
　〃You　will　tell　me；　Patrick。　I　promise　you'll　tell　me。　You　can　do　it　now；　or　you　can　do　it　ten　hours　from　now　when　you're　half…dead。　Make　it　easy　on　yourself。〃
　〃I　don't　want　to　die；　okay？〃　Patrick　said；　his　eyes　filled　with　fear。　They　will　not　kill　me；　he　told　himself。
　Guy　lifted　a　small；　simple；　nasty　device　from　beside　Patrick　and　displayed　it　close　to　his　face。　It　was　a　chrome　lever　with　a　black　rubber　tip；　mounted　on　a　small　square　block　with　two　wires　running　from　it。　〃See　this；〃　Guy　said；　as　if　Patrick　had　a　choice。　〃When　the　lever　is　up；　the　circuit　is　broken。〃　Guy　delicately　gripped　the　rubber　tip　with　his　thumb　and　index　finger；　and　slowly　lowered　it。　〃But　when　it　moves　down　to　this　little　contact　point　here；　the　circuit　is　closed　and　the　current　moves　through　the　wires　to　the　electrodes　attached　to　your　skin。〃　He　stopped　the　lever　just　centimeters　from　the　contact　point。　Patrick　held　his　breath。　The　room　was　still。
　〃Would　you　like　to　see　what　happens　when　the　shock　is　delivered？〃　Guy　asked。
　〃No。〃
　〃Then　where's　the　money？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　I　swear。〃
　Twelve　inches　in　front　of　Patrick's　nose；　Guy　pushed　the　lever　down　to　the　contact　point。　The　shock　was　instant　and　horrific…hot　bolts　of　current　ripped　into　his　flesh。　Patrick　jerked　and　the　nylon　ropes　stretched。　He　closed　his　eyes　fiercely　and　clamped　his　teeth　together　in　a　determined　effort　not　to　scream；　but　gave　up　after　a　split　second　and　let　out　a　piercing　shriek　that　was　heard　throughout　the　cabin。
　Guy　lifted　the　lever；　waited　a　few　seconds　for　Patrick　to　catch　his　breath　and　open　his　eyes；　then　said；　〃That's　level　one；　the　lowest　current。　I　have　five　levels；　and　I'll　use　them　all　if　necessary。　Eight　seconds　of　level　five　will　kill　you；　and　I'm　perfectly　willing　to　do　that　as　a　last　resort。　Are　you　listening；　Patrick？〃
　His　flesh　still　burned　from　his　chest　to　his　ankles。　His　heart　pumped　furiously　and　he　exhaled　quickly。
　〃Are　you　listening？〃　Guy　repeated。
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Your　situation　is　really　quite　simple。　Tell　me　where　the　money　is；　and　you　leave　this　room　alive。　Eventually；　we'll　take　you　back　to　Ponta　Pora；　and　you　can　carry　on　as　you　see　fit。　We　have　no　interest　in　notifying　the　FBI。〃　Guy　paused　for　drama　and　toyed　with　the　chrome　lever。　〃If；　however；　you　refuse　to　tell　me　where　the　money　is；　then　you'll　never　leave　this　room　alive。　Do　you　understand；　Patrick？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Good。　Where's　the　money？〃
　〃I　swear　I　don't　know。　If　I　knew；　I'd　tell　you。〃
　Guy　snapped　the　lever　down　without　a　word；　and　the　currents　hit　like　boiling　acid。　〃I　don't　know！〃　Patrick　screamed　in　anguish。　〃I　swear　I　don't　know。〃
　Guy　raised　the　lever；　and　waited　a　few　seconds　for　Patrick　to　recover。　Then；　〃Where's　the　money？〃　he　asked　calmly。
　〃I　swear　I　don't　know。〃
　Another　scream　filled　the　cabin；　and　escaped　through　the　open　windows；　into　the　crevice　between　the　mountains　where　it　echoed　lightly　before　losing　itself　in　the　jungle。
　THE　APARTMENT　in　Curitiba　was　near　the　airport。　Eva　told　the　cabdriver　to　wait　in　the　street。　She　left　her　overnight　bag　in　the　trunk；　but　carried　her　thick　briefcase　with　her。
　She　took　the　elevator　to　the　ninth　floor　where　the　hallway　was　dark　and　quiet。　It　was　almost　11　P。M。　She　moved　slowly；　eyes　looking　in　all　directions。　She　unlocked　the　door　to　the　apartment；　then　quickly　disarmed　the　security　system　with　another　key。
　Danilo　was　not　in　the　apartment；　and　though　this　was　not　a　surprise　it　was　still　a　disappointment。　No　message　on　the　phone　recorder。　No　sign　of　him　whatsoever。　Her　anxiety　reached　another　level。
　She　could　not　stay　long；　because　the　men　who　had　Danilo　might　be　ing　there。　Though　she　knew　exactly　what　to　do；　her　movements　were　forced　and　slow。　The　apartment　had　only　three　rooms；　and　she　searched　them　quickly。
　The　papers　she　wanted　were　in　a　locked　file　cabinet　in　the　den。　She　opened　the　three　heavy　drawers　and　neatly　placed　the　paperwork　in　a　handsome　leather　suitcase　he　kept　in　a　nearby　closet。　The　bulk　of　the　files　contained　financial　records；　though　not　much　for　such　a　large　fortune。　His　paper　trail　was　as　narrow　as　possible。　He　came　here　once　a　month　to　hide　records　from　his　home；　and　at　least　once　a　month　he　shredded　the　old　stuff。
　And　for　the　moment；　Danilo　couldn't　know　where　his　papers　were。
　She　rearmed　the　security　system　and　made　a　hasty　exit。　No　one　in　the　cramped　building　had　noticed　her。　She　found　a　room　in　a　small　hotel　downtown；　near　the　Museum　of　Contemporary　Arts。　The　Asian　banks　were　open；　and　it　was　almost　four　in　Zurich。　She　unpacked　a　pact　fax　and　rigged　it　to　the　phone　jack　in　her　room。　The　small　bed　was　soon　covered　with　sheets　of　instructions　and　wire　authorizations。
　She　was　tired；　but　sleep　was　out　of　the　question。　Danilo　said　they'd　e　looking　for　her。　She　could　not　go　home。　Her　thoughts　were　not　on　money；　but　on　him。　Was　he　alive？　If　so；　how　much　was　he　suffering？　How　much　had　he　told　them；　and　at　what　price？
　She　wiped　her　eyes　and　began　to　arrange　the　papers。　There　was　no　time　for　tears。
　WITH　TORTURE；　the　best　results　e　after　three　days　of　episodic　abuse。　The　more　obstinate　wills　are　slowly　broken。　The　pain　is　dreamed　of；　and　looms　larger　as　the　victim　waits　for　the　next　session。　Three　days；　and　most　people　break　and　crumble　into　small　pieces。
　Guy　didn't　have　three　days。　His　prisoner　was　not　one　taken　in　war；　but　a　U。S。　citizen　wanted　by　the　FBI。
　Around　midnight；　they　left　Patrick　alone　for　a　few　minutes　to　suffer　and　think　about　the　next　round。　His　body　was　drenched　with　sweat；　his　skin　red　from　the　voltage　and　the　heat。　Blood　trickled　from　under　the　tape　on　his　chest　where　the　electrodes　had　been　stuc