“I’m guessing they got those from the real Leilani,” Kurt said.

“They must have grabbed her and replaced her the moment she hit Male.”

Joe was undoubtedly right, which made it all the more imperative that they escape. “We have to figure out a way to get free,” Kurt said. “I’ve run my hands all along this pipe. I can’t find a weak spot.”

“Nothing over here either. I tried rocking it loose, but it’s bolted into the stone, I can’t get any play in it.”

As Joe finished speaking, the door to their cell opened. The overhead lights snapped on, blinding Kurt and Joe for a second.

In walked Jinn and the bearded man, Sabah, who always seemed to be with him. Several armed guards accompanied them.

“I don’t see any towels or mints in their hands,” Joe said.

“Silence!” Sabah shouted.

Jinn raised a hand as if to say it was all right.

“It has been an interesting day,” Jinn said, “more so for you than for me.”

His English was good, tinged with an accent, but he’d definitely been schooled, perhaps in the UK.

“It’s going to get a lot more interesting when we don’t turn up at our extraction point,” Kurt said. “A lot of people have their eyes on you, Jinn. And getting rid of us will only make the scrutiny more intense.”

“Resigned to your fate, then?”

“Unless you’re here to let us go,” Kurt said.

“Not afraid to die?”

“It’s not on our to-do list, but we’re not kidding ourselves. The question is, are you?”

Jinn looked puzzled, a good thing in Kurt’s eyes. Though he had no idea where he was going with this, anything that put their host off balance would be helpful at this point.

“I do not kid, as you say,” Jinn replied.

“Sure you do,” Kurt said. “You build toys in your basement and blow them up. You’re playing some kind of game and you’re oblivious to how rapidly it’s coming to an end. NUMA is onto you. That means the CIA, Interpol, Mossad will soon be onto you as well. Especially when we don’t turn up safe and sound. Kill us and you’ll have nowhere left to run.”

“What makes you think we are running, Mr. Austin?”

“If you’re not, you should be. Trouble’s coming at you from all sides. Your attack on our catamaran proves that you’re desperate. The firefight tonight and the two guys you killed prove your vulnerability.”

A soft, rumbling laugh bubbled up from somewhere inside Jinn. “I would say your position is far more vulnerable than mine.”

“And I’d tell you we have a way out for you.”

Joe glanced at Kurt from the corner of his eye as if to say “We do?”

Kurt was grasping at straws, making up a story as he went along. It was the only card he had left to play. He needed to sow a little seed of doubt in Jinn’s mind and make him believe, however preposterous it sounded, that Kurt and Joe and NUMA could help Jinn avoid the trouble that was surrounding him.

Jinn moved to Kurt’s left.

“I neither want nor need whatever it is you’re attempting to offer me,” Jinn said. “I simply came here to tell you that you were going to die.”

“No surprise there,” Kurt said without batting an eye. “But let me ask you this: Why do you think my government sent us instead of a squadron of predator drones or Stealth fighters carrying bunker-busting bombs? Come on. You might be safe here from some of your enemies but not from the U.S. government. You know that. You’re on the A-list now. Like the reactor and enrichment facilities the Iranians are building. And you’re no different than dozens of other threats they’ve eliminated over the last few years. There are no borders for a guy like you to hide behind anymore. But you have something the Bin Laden’s of this world don’t. You have something to barter with. Technology.”

Jinn held his place. Clearly he was thinking about Kurt’s words, a fact almost too good to be true. Now Kurt had to push him. If he could just buy some time and some freedom, he and Joe might have a chance.

“You expect me to believe what you’re saying?”

“Let me be clear,” Kurt said. “I wouldn’t give you the time of day. You’re a killer and a thug. But I work for Uncle Sam, I do as I’m told. Our orders were to come here, infiltrate and report back. To make contact with you later if possible through third-party channels. They want what you have.”

“Do I look like a fool to you?” Jinn asked, growing angry.

“I wouldn’t answer that,” Joe said.

“Your government doesn’t make deals.”

“You’re wrong about that,” Kurt said. “We’ve been making deals for two hundred years. You ever hear of Werner von Braun? He was a Nazi, a German scientist who built rockets that killed thousands. We took him under our wing after the war because he had knowledge we needed. Viktor Belenko was a Russian pilot who brought us a MiG-25. We take baseball players, ballet dancers, computer programmers, anyone with something to offer. That might be unfair to the poor farmers and peasants who want to come, but it’s good for you. It gives you an out.”

“Enough of this.” He turned.

“This country is falling apart,” Kurt shouted. “Even your money and power won’t keep you safe if anarchy strikes. And I’m guessing you have other problems in the outside world or you wouldn’t have to kill off your guests and hide down here in the first place. I’m offering you a way out. Release us and let us report what we saw, and my government will contact you in a more professional manner.”

Jinn didn’t even consider the offer, despite Kurt’s well-played deception. He turned and smiled. “Before long, men from your government, among others, will be begging me to contact them. And your bleached bones lying in the sand won’t make a bit of difference.”

Jinn waved to the guards. “Teach this one a lesson, and then take them to the well. I will meet you there.”

Jinn walked out, Sabah followed, and the four men who remained moved forward.

A few punches landed first to soften them up and then another series of blows from extendable metal batons. The strikes were heavy, but Kurt had taken worse and he managed to twist and bend so they landed in a more glancing fashion.

Joe did the same, ducking and moving like the boxer he was.

One baton caught Kurt above his eye, splitting the skin and leaving a bleeding gash. Kurt pretended it had knocked him woozy. He slumped in the chains, and the men around him seemed to lose their enthusiasm. A halfhearted kick hit him in the back, and the men laughed among themselves.

One of them said something in Arabic, and then they reached down and hauled Kurt up to his feet. They undid his cuffs and dragged him out. Through eyelids intentionally at half-mast he saw Joe being forced to march next to him.

They were out of the frying pan. The question was, where would they land?

The first part of that answer arrived as they reached the main entrance to the cave. Sunlight beamed through in orange shafts. It was late afternoon, the hottest part of the day. They were marched outside and led to the tail end of an SUV. While the other guards held their arms, a rather vicious-looking man tied their hands to a hitch with two-foot lengths of rope.

“This can’t be good,” Joe said.

“I think we’re about to get keelhauled, desert style,” Kurt replied.

The vicious-looking man laughed, climbed into the SUV and began to rev the engine repeatedly. Kurt tried to come up with a way out. His only thought was to climb onto the SUV before it took off, but the outside of the vehicle was smooth, and with their hands tied there was no way to hang on to it.

The engine revved again.

Joe looked over at him.

“I got nothing.”

“Great.”

The SUV lurched forward, Kurt and Joe were yanked along, they stumbled and nearly fell, but they got their feet going and managed to stay up with the vehicle by running. To Kurt’s surprise the driver didn’t accelerate beyond that. He merely rolled along at an idling speed, dragging the two prisoners at the pace of a fast jog.