ino was awakened very abruptly.  His pulse quickened when the gurney banged against the steel cell door.  He felt kind of weird, weak and trembly.  "Must have been something he ate" he thought to himself."

In reality he'd been given a light dose of Fentanyl gas almost identical to the gas used by the Russian Spatznaz to take back the Theater commandeered by the Chechens.  It is a gas heavier than air so it will float down.  Gino was given enough to incapacitate him so he could be shackled without a struggle.

Without Gino's knowing it, Link had been gassed as well and was actually put through a little pain to make him howl.  He was then chloroformed enough to place him in the bag without struggle and wheel him out as 'dead.'

He was simply moved to a less secure brig in the room under the airport.  This was done to fool Gino into thinking Link was dead.  Still, Gino wasn't about to talk no matter what they used on him.

They didn't want to waste Gingers time, but she had done an excellent job and got good results with Link, something none of the rest of them could accomplish.

They were just about done for the evening .  The did want go through the belongings of Link and Gino before retiring.  Guns, explosives, maps, ordinance locations.

This material is sensitive codes, codes that belonged to the Bunker.  That was the information they wanted.  Who sent them?  What all were they after?

One thing was for sure.  It is the second time the question of the arms they'd rescued from the Hanoi Hilton were inquired of.  Perhaps there was something more to those arms beyond the obvious.

William sat and discussed this point of interest with General Sherman.  They had three explosives experienced men who were very familiar with the weapons retrieved, and there was nothing outside of the normal ordinance.  Could they have missed something?

The sound of a door opening and a woman's footfall in high heels came across the speaker.  Both men turned their attention back to Ginger and the scene which, while it did answer some of their questions, also opened up a whole new can of worms.

Gino sat staring at the beauty of the woman in his room.  Still dazed somewhat from the Fentanyl, he was struggling to regain his breath.  Fentanyl was deadly and had to be used very sparingly.  Williams mind went back to the scenario of the Chechens who'd overtaken the theater in Russia with over eight hundred hostages in Oct of 2002.

To gain control of the situation, Fentanyl was pumped into the theater rendering all inside unconscious.  While all the abductors died, so did a hundred and fifty of abductees.  It caused quite a stink within the populace of Russia but it sure sent out a dire warning.  Russia would not be kind to anyone who would attempt other such missions.

Ginger was at her best when she was in some kind of mission, whether it be flying, fighting or interviewing.  She actually found this type of interview quite satisfying.  She liked the power she had over her subjects, and she had a good brain which she used wisely to ask the right questions at the right time.

Beau was with Link in the Brig under the hangar and was about to retrieve some information that would chill him to the bone.  Ginger had a way of pausing after each answer of her subject which allowed those observing the interview to interject information.  She had been with Gino for nearly a half hour now and and was not getting satisfactory answers.

She had already brought blood in a number of places, and had slipped the razor sharp knife into the upper portion of the jumpsuit, flicking the buttons off all the way down to his navel.  Someone cleared their voice in her ear bud and she stopped, backed up and just looked at Gino long and hard while she received the information.

Link had given up the last bit of information concerning the weapons.  There were three small nuclear warheads stored somewhere at the Hanoi Hilton.

Ginger stepped back over close to Gino, and ran the stiletto up his sleeve, the cloth laying open as it was parted by the sharp blade.  The other sleeve was cut and the garment fell away.  Gino was secured with his ankles shackled to the bed underneath him, his arms drawn up over his head and fastened tight.

She said "Ok Gino, I'm wearing down in patience and I think it's time for me to just finish the job.  Ever heard of someone being skinned alive?  Or the death of a thousand cuts?  They are two of the most painful procedures a person can live through.  Usually it is done in sections because the subject passes out.  When they regain consciousness, the skinning continues."

"They often live three of four days.  I've got one question.  You answer it and I'll leave off the skinning.  Where are the three nuclear warheads hidden?"

Gino was shocked because of the three spies, only he was supposed to have known about the warheads.  "Where did you get that information?" he asked defiantly.

"Oh, we have ways and means of which you have no idea.  Now, that was the wrong answer.  She let the blade travel down his arm slicing just deep enough to allow the blood to flow.

"The weapons are located in J3" said.  That is a location we've never been able to locate our own selves.  A man by the name of Harrington had the maps, but one had to layer them to get the information.  We only had two layers and were searching for some maps he gave you."

"Who are you working for?" Ginger asked.

"I work for a private contractor" he responded.

The evasive answer threw a fury on her she had only experienced one time before.  And that was when she blew the moslems away in the alley.  A different countenance came over her face, a look in her eye, an edge to her voice.  Suddenly she began to tremble with the storm that was erupting in her.

Sharon recognized it and yelled at William to get in there and stop her.

Gino realized he'd messed up big time when she raised the stiletto to his throat and said "wrong answer."  The blade began biting into the flesh on his throat.  For Gino, death was less than a half-inch away.  He croaked hoarsely, "I work for Bighton, a subsidiary of Soros and Clinton Foundation Conglomerate."

Bighton Security and Associates was a circle of spies, thugs, henchmen, assassins and personal bodyguards.  It is not to be confused with the Secret Service Agency which provided personal bodyguards for ex-presidents on the taxpayers dime.

"What is the name of your immediate superior?"  He hesitated for a moment and the blade sank deeper.

"Angel."

Ginger forced herself to refrain from killing him right then and there.  Slowly, she removed the stiletto from his throat which was going to require stitches.  She wiped the blood from the stiletto onto the leg of his jumpsuit.  She looked into his eyes deep.  Gino felt his soul was being searched out.

"You'll face a firing squad at sunrise tomorrow" she said.  I will be the center rifle of five.  I only pray that my rifle is one of the three which will have a live round in it.  May God have mercy on your soul."

The only thing that prevented her from ripping out his throat is the last word he uttered: "Angel."

Ginger, through her contacts and friends of her fathers, knew about someone close to Hillary by the name of Angel but did not know his identity.  But she felt that she was about to meet him.  It be very sobering to learn Angel was not a man.  Angel was a woman.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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Chapter IX