A Covenant with Death: The Peacock Trilogy - Book 3 by Bill Wetterman Page A

the old city of Perm. No complexes near here. The Grozny Complex is involved. They cooperated in orchestrating your capture.”
    “Is Ammad coming to pay me a visit?”
    In a surprising soft tone, he answered, “Not yet. He sends you a message. ‘Tell the redheaded bitch she will die by my hand when this is through.’”
    Peacock jerked. Surprised that she’d named Ammad. Yes. She’d suspected him of having ambition. But to be right on her first guess?
    Remember. You’re not alone.
    She’d go with the voice in her head and see where it led her. The pain from her beating didn’t bother her. Too severe to register in my mind, she thought. “What do you want with me other than to kill me for Grandayatollah al-Sistani’s death? Eye for an eye, so to speak. There’s not much more you can do to me.”
    He tossed a harsh laugh at her followed by an order. “Hoist her up.”
    The other men unfastened her wrist restraints, attached the ends to the wall hooks, and pulled her to where her feet barely touched the ground. Her calf muscles immediately cramped. She bore the pain and attempted to keep from screaming.
    I guessed wrong.
    “Your husband, your daughter, your whole family searches for you. Their anguish gives us a great reason to keep you alive. Information is another. You possess knowledge we need to know. Also, you will proclaim Allah one way or another before you die.”
    “Never. I’m a loyal follower of Jesus. I’m sorry for you. You are forcing the world into a modern day Crusade.”
    He yanked on the supporting chain. She winced at the sudden pain. “Think about what I said, as you hang there. Constant pain until death.”
    Her mind clearly remembered her training in Hercules—the waterboarding and other tortures. Her spirit could endure. Her body couldn’t. Even as the pain increased, the voice comforted her. Then the pain vanished.
    Endure to the end. Your reward will be great.

Chapter 7
    Connor Ann Uba strained to follow the technical charts revealed by a 360-degree prism monitor. She clenched her fists at the scope of the treason at work against the Global Realm. Thaddeus Cline, Director of Global Science, Eduardo Duarte, Arthur Pendleton’s personal Chief of Staff, and Doctor Pederson, her mother’s former personal physician, arrived first. Retired agent Michael Ziebach, nicknamed Polaris, and Far East Regional Governor Tzu Chui came in a few minutes after them. From their positions at the round mahogany table in London, they scanned the overhead computer displays.
    Controlling the feed from the Beijing Complex, her older brother, George, provided information collected from satellite and space station sources. “I reached Harry. He said if we can obtain any biological material, plant scraps, pollen, dust from the inside of shoes, we might be able to associate them to a specific terrain and close in on where they’re hiding her.”
    Thaddeus Cline tapped his pencil and arched his back. “Our science team is scrutinizing every bit of evidence. We’ve already found information giving us some clues. The original attackers came from near Norilsk, a harsh, cold climate with only arctic vegetation.”
    Cline wiggled and rubbed his leg.
    “Damned uncomfortable chairs.” He grumped. “However, we found a tunnel about sixty kilometers south of the Supersonic’s crash site. Near where Chui’s people said it would be. There we found clogs of good material from a much moister climate, and something else.” He paused a moment. “ Clonorchiasis !”
    “Raw fish parasite,” Chui proclaimed.
    “Indeed,” Cline responded. “Since I highly doubt they could have transported her to Thailand, I believe she’s somewhere near the Kama River close to the Urals. The poor population in that area used to be 80 percent infested with these buggers.”
    “What complexes would be close?” Connor asked.
    “None,” Cline replied.
    “The old Governance of Perm was located on the banks of the Kama,” George