The Atlantis Origins by S.A. Beck

Author:S.A. Beck [Beck, S.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beck Books

Chapter 13

August 8, 2016, A CELLAR IN MARRAKECH, MOROCCO

1:07 A.M.

* * *

Isadore hadn’t felt the emotion called pity in many, many years. She had rooted out that particular form of weakness from her personality along with all others. It had helped her rise in the ranks and become what she was today.

She had to admit, though, looking at Edward strapped to a metal chair, shivering in the center of a cold, damp cellar, that anyone else would feel at least something for the guy.

Amir was obviously weakening, as were the two toughs from his gang who had been splashing cold water on Edward for the past five hours to keep him awake and on the verge of hypothermia. She’d have to watch those three. They acted tough and were good enough in a fight, but they weren’t professionals like her. There was only so much they could be made to do.

Perhaps it was time to ask some questions. She generally softened a subject up for a few hours before asking anything. Even the weakest prisoner always tried to lie at the start.

Best to start with something easy.

“Name?”

“E-Edward,” he said through chattering teeth.

He sounded almost grateful. Torturing someone for an hour without even asking who they were really did people’s heads in.

She’d already checked his passport. An honest answer for the first question was always a good start.

“What are you doing in Marrakech?”

“I-I’m a tourist.”

She nodded to Amir, who splashed another bucket of cold water in his face.

“You’re not the tourist type. Cold down here, isn’t it? General Lamy, one of the French generals who conquered Morocco back a hundred years ago, said, ‘Morocco is a cold country with a hot sun.’ Have you noticed that? Out of the sun, it doesn’t feel hot here at all. Well, Edward, you won’t be seeing the sun for a long, long time. What are you doing in Marrakech?”

“W-Who are you? Who sent you?”

“I ask the questions. What are you doing in Marrakech?”

“Helping my friends, the ones you’re after.”

“Helping them do what?”

“I used my contacts on the Dark Net to get fake visas so they could leave the country.”

“To go where?”

Edward paused. Another bucket of cold water made him jerk in his seat. The metal chair scraped across the concrete and almost tipped over.

“Easy there, Amir. Where did your friends go?”

“A-Algeria.”

Edward hung his head.

“Why there?”

“We did some research and found evidence for a lost Atlantean colony on the Algerian coast. I don’t know much about ancient history or archaeology. I can’t tell you much about that.”

“What’s the name of this archaeological site?”

Edward’s eyes shifted, and he tensed a little more. Isadore sensed a lie coming. She sensed she’d been listening to a whole string of them already.

“Tel Gezer.”

“Never heard of it,” Isadore said.

“It’s not well known.”

“Perhaps it’s completely unknown.” Isadore snorted. “Did Jaxon go with them?”

Edward nodded. “To Algeria, yes.”

“Algeria, Algeria, Algeria. You sure are eager to get me to Algeria, aren’t you, Edward?”

The hacker looked away.

This was all bull. She didn’t need training in interrogation techniques to know that.

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