Keep Me(24)

She has to be, to survive me.

Arriving at a decision, I give her a cool smile. “We just got intelligence on two Al-Quadar cells,” I say, watching her reaction. “Now we’re figuring out how we can wipe them out and capture some of their members in the process. The meeting was to coordinate the logistics of that operation.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she does a good job of controlling her shock at my revelations. “How many cells are there?” she asks, shifting forward in the chair. I can see her right palm curling into a fist next to her leg, though her voice remains calm. “How big is their organization?”

“Nobody knows, except their top leaders. That’s why it’s so hard to eradicate them—they’re scattered all over the world, like vermin. They made a mistake, though, when they tried to play hardball with me. I am very good at exterminating vermin.”

Nora swallows reflexively, but continues holding my gaze. Brave girl. “What did they want from you?” she asks. “Why did they decide to play hardball?”

I hesitate for a second, then decide to fill her in. She might as well know the full story at this point. “My company developed a new type of weapon—a powerful explosive that’s almost impossible to detect,” I explain. “A couple of kilos is all it would take to blow up a mid-sized airport, and a dozen kilos could take out a small city. It’s got the explosive force of a nuclear bomb, but it’s not radioactive, and the substance that it’s made of resembles plastic, so it can be molded into nearly anything . . . even children’s toys.”

She stares at me, her face turning pale. She’s beginning to understand the implications of this. “Is that why you didn’t want to give it to them?” she asks. “Because you didn’t want to place such a dangerous weapon in the hands of terrorists?”

“No, not really.” I give her an amused look. It’s sweet of her to ascribe noble motives to me, but she should know better at this point. “It’s simply that the explosive is difficult to produce in large quantities, and I already have a long list of buyers waiting. Al-Quadar was at the very bottom of that list, so they would’ve had to wait years, if not decades, to get it from me.”

To Nora’s credit, her expression doesn’t change. “So who is at the top of your list?” she says evenly. “Some other terrorist group?”

“No.” I laugh softly. “Not even close. It’s your government, my pet. They put in an order so large, it will keep my factories busy for years.”

“Oh, I see.” Initially she appears relieved, but then a puzzled frown creases her smooth forehead. “So legitimate governments buy things from you too? I thought the US military developed their own weapons . . .”

“They do.” I grin at her naïveté. “But they would never pass up a chance to get their hands on something like this. And the more they buy, the less I can sell to others. It’s an arrangement that works well for everyone.”

“But why don’t they just take it from you by force? Or simply shut down your factories?” She stares at me in confusion. “In general, if they know of your existence, why do they allow you to produce illegal weapons?”

“Because if I didn’t do it, somebody else would—and that person might not be nearly as rational and pragmatic as I am.” I can see the disbelieving look on Nora’s face, and my grin widens. “Yes, my pet, believe it or not, the US government would rather deal with me, who bears America no particular ill will, than to have someone like Majid in charge of a similar operation.”

“Majid?”

“The motherfucker who killed Beth.” My voice hardens, my amusement disappearing without a trace. “The one responsible for stealing you at the clinic.”

Nora tenses at the mention of Beth, and I see her hands balling into fists again. “The Suit—that’s what I called him in my mind,” she murmurs, her gaze appearing distant for a moment. “Because he was wearing a suit, you see . . .” She blinks, then focuses her attention on me again. “That was Majid?”

I nod, keeping my expression impassive despite the rage churning inside me. “Yes. That was him.”

“I wish he hadn’t died in the explosion,” she says, surprising me for a moment. Her eyes glitter darkly in the sunlight. “He didn’t deserve such an easy death.”

“No, he didn’t,” I agree, now comprehending her meaning. Like me, she wishes that Majid had suffered. She hungers for revenge; I can hear it in her voice, see it on her face. It makes me wonder what would happen if she somehow ended up with Majid at her mercy. Would she be able to truly hurt him? To inflict such pain that he would beg for death?