Two hours later she ws in an abandoned sail loft with the dupe, trying to get some sense out of him.
"You're not doing so well. I count at least two major screw ups tonight. I'd like to think its just incompetance, but the folks back at HQ are very nervous about screw-ups. They're not as trusting as I am. As I see it, things can go one of three ways. I could just drug you with some twe and get some answers that way (shame about the side effects), I could demonstrate to you exactly why every team needs a good Cuban, or you can tell me why you were stupid enough to go back there."
He did a good job of faking bravado. "You don't look Cuban to me."
She tilted her head and raised a single eyebrow. "Don't be an ass, you know what I'm talking about."
Yes, he knew exactly what she was talking about, and he didn't doubt she was capable of following through on the implied threat. "I was doing a personal favor for thatwesguy. You know the one I mean. I owe him a big favor, and there was this book he wanted. I'm sure you've heard that he readsalot."
It sounded plausible. "Must have been a big favor." She wasn't going to give it to him for free.
Just then the phone rang again.