Chapter 20
Samson jerked awake, his eyes blinking uselessly into the dark. His ears hummed in the silence, broken only by a slow drip.
He counted off the seconds between the drops. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven”—drip—“One, two, three, four, five, six”—drip. It was leaking faster since he’d been brought in here. However long ago that was.
He heard footsteps and sat straighter, pushing up against the wall, but then slouched again. When they’d first begun beating him, he’d tried to defend himself, but he’d lost all the fight left in him. They’d been starving him too, and he was weak. But it wasn’t only his stomach that was empty.
The door opened, and he covered his face against the light. It hurt, and the stiffness of dried blood pulled at his beard when he grimaced.
Rough hands pushed him onto his stomach and yanked his arms behind his back, securing them before they hauled him to his feet. It was the first time they’d removed him from the room since he’d arrived.
He stumbled along the hall with the four men they’d sent for him. They weren’t taking any chances.
“Where are we going?” Samson’s voice was tight with disuse.
But no one spoke, and when they reached a heavy metal door, he was pulled to a stop. One of the men knocked. When the door opened, Demir was standing there.
He shook his head and tsked. “The mighty Samson brought to his knees. Look at you. You’re a disgrace. Disgusting. Gone is the confident man who could take down an army.”
Samson dropped his head and stared at the floor. He had nothing to say.
Demir closed in on him and grabbed his beard to lift his head, but a brief fire brewed in Samson’s belly, and his head jolted upward, smashing into Demir’s face.
Demir grunted and staggered back while two of the guards started raining down blows.
“Enough!” Demir shouted.
Samson lifted his gaze to stare under heavy eyebrows as Demir wiped the blood from his face.
“I guess we didn’t leave you in your room long enough. I had expected them to beat all the heat out of you by now, but I was wrong. We’ve got time to remedy that. Sit him down.”
The guards hauled Samson to a table and forced him into the metal chair there.
“Get me something to wipe my face,” Demir said to the guards, his voice nasally from his swollen nose, which continued to bleed.
One guard left the room, and Demir moved around to the other side of the table. He’d learned his lesson.
Samson rested his hands on the edge of it.
“It’s bolted down,” Demir said. “In case you get any ideas.”
“You think I can’t rip it out of the floor?” He was bluffing, but he saw a flash of worry pass through Demir’s eyes.
“For all the stories of your invincibilities, it appears you are no different from any other man. Luckier, perhaps. But you bleed the same.”
“Why am I still alive?”
“It’s not because I like you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Why don’t you kill me and get it over with? I have nothing to give you.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You have plenty to give me.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what it is you want?”
“You spent many years fighting to protect your fellow countrymen. And I don’t mean Americans.”
“That was a long time ago. After you killed my wife, I moved on to other things.”
“I didn’t kill your wife. You did that. All you had to do was stay out of our business.”
“And let you kill innocent people?”
“You say that like you care.”
“You don’t think I do?”
“No. I think you only care about yourself, just like your great-great-grandfather.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re telling me you’ve never heard the name Demir before me?”
“Of course I have. It’s a common last name.”
“During the time we’ve held you, did you ever replay those final moments in your head when you lost everything you cared about? When I took everything away?”
“No,” Samson lied.
“You never wondered why I reveled in Delilah’s betrayal of you so much?”
“Because you’re an evil man?”
“Maybe it’s the lack of nutrition that’s making you dramatic, but no. I had a score to settle with you. The betrayal. The murder of your daughter.”
Samson jumped from the chair to lunge for Demir, but he was hit from behind before he could get his hands around his throat, and he fell to the floor, stunned.
It was several minutes before he could push himself up.
“Leave him,” Demir said when the guards moved to help him up. “He can do it himself, or he can remain on the floor at my feet. His choice.”
The other guard returned, handing a towel to Demir to wipe his face as Samson crawled back to the chair. He pulled himself into it with his head still spinning.
“I imagine you know the story of how your family came to be in America,” Demir said after he’d cleaned up his face.
“I do.”
“Tell it to me.”
“No, thanks.”
Demir nodded to a guard, and Samson got a thump on the back of his head. It sent a shock of pain through to his face.
“I can do this all day,” Demir said. “Tell me.”
Samson put a hand to the back of his head and felt blood. “I don’t understand why you’re so interested in my ancestry.”
“It may help you better understand my position.”
“Okay. My dad’s great-grandfather, Ashot, came over to escape the persecution.”
“Yes.”
“If you already know, then why are you asking?”
“Before he could leave the country, do you know who he went to for help?”
“Help? He had no help. He was captured but escaped before being forced to march to his death. He found his pregnant wife, and they escaped on a boat to America.”
“How did he escape his captivity?”
“Apparently there was an explosion nearby, and it caused enough of a distraction for him to slip away.”
“Wrong!” Demir backhanded him, almost knocking him to the ground.
“Do you know something I don’t?” Samson said, pressing his hand against his face.
“A man named Osman Demir helped him escape and promised Ashot that he would keep him safe. He said he’d make sure his family wasn’t touched. Instead of trusting my great-great-grandfather, Ashot handed Osman over to his own people for nothing more than spite.”
“You sure that’s the truth?”
“When all that comes out of your mouth is lies? Yes.”
“My dad told me Osman Demir was the one who captured Ashot. When he escaped, Osman must have been held responsible.”
“More lies.”
“Why would Osman want to help Ashot?”
“You think he was wrong to take pity?”
“I find it highly suspect. But let’s say for a minute that you’re right and Osman was trying to help a man he saw as his enemy. Why would you now dishonor his memory by continuing what he obviously saw to be wrong?”
“I don’t blame him for having compassion, but I do not see the world as he does.”
“So you’ve been holding this against me the whole time? Something I had nothing to do with?”
“No, we’ve been busy planning, but when you turned up in front of the embassy, I saw both a threat and an opportunity.”
“What a miserable life you must be leading.”
“Me? I am very fulfilled in my life. I am on the verge of finishing what was started so many years ago. You’re the one whose life is miserable. How long it lasts may be up to you.”
Samson spit blood on the floor and ran his tongue along the cut inside his mouth. “All right. Then tell what you’re planning.”
“I’d be happy to, but first I’d like to hear what your investigation has turned up.”
Demir wanted to know what the feds knew. It wasn’t much, and Samson had no intention of giving him anything important, but if it got Demir to talk…but it didn’t matter. He would get no opportunity to share any information he got. He wasn’t getting out of here alive.
“As far as I know, you’re gathering weapons in order to attack Armenians over here just like ten years ago. But I also understand you have drugs on the premises? Is that for your own entertainment?”
“Drugs provide us with the funds we need.”
“Right. That makes sense. That’s how Marc came into it.”
“Our war is not only with the Armenians. In other parts of the world, churches that are blown to pieces don’t get much airplay because it is so commonplace. We will make it the same over here. The West has enjoyed too many years of religious peace, and we have a lot of time to make up for.”
“It won’t work.”
“You don’t think so? Have you ever noticed how Christianity is the one thing this country despises more than anything else? I wish you’d be alive to see it, the country celebrating the demise of a religion that was the cornerstone of its existence.”
“That’s a nice story, but it doesn’t explain why I’m still alive.”
“You’re here to help me.”
Samson shook his head and chuckled. “Is that why you’ve been keeping me around? Because you think I’ll help you? The problem you have is that you got rid of your only leverage.”
“You mean your daughter? You may be a cold and callous man, but there are other people we could kill or maim or torture who would cause you grief. Delilah’s still alive.”
“Not to me she isn’t.”
“Don’t be too hard on her. We did shoot her cousin to get her to talk. If it makes you feel any better, she resisted longer than I expected. She very much did not want to give up Riley.”
“But she did. And you think telling me this will make me care about her?”
“I hear Luca’s left the hospital. It wouldn’t be too hard to get to him either. Or Catherine, your father, Agent Trevors. But listen, that’s beside the point. I’m not that desperate to keep you alive. I’ll leave it up to you how you want to move forward with this.”
“I will say, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. What is it you want me to do for you?”
“We’ve got some bombs we need to defuse so we can reuse their parts. There are also more that need to be made. But with such unstable parts, it’s a messy job. We’ve lost two men already. We thought you’d be up to the task. If you don’t like it, feel free to blow yourself up, and we’ll make sure no one with connections to you remains alive either. Otherwise, you stay alive, do your job, and we don’t have to kill anyone else. When we’re finished, we’ll put you out of your misery.”
“Wait a second. You’re telling me bombs have gone off in this building?” Samson looked around at the blast marks on the wall. He’d seen them when he entered the room but hadn’t taken much notice. He turned in his chair and noted the reinforced door.
“Some minor earthquakes in the area had been reported,” Demir said.
“Am I right in my assumption that we’re in the basement of the embassy that’s under construction?”
Demir nodded.
“And this room has withstood the blasts?”
“This entire floor was originally constructed as a bomb shelter, but we’ve made adjustments and improvements to it recently.”
“And the embassy is happy to be involved in this?”
“Those cowards have no idea what’s going on. They’re not interested in furthering the cause of our people or our faith. So we keep this building under construction until we’re finished with our plans, enjoying immunity to the laws of this country.”
“You can’t hide behind diplomatic immunity forever.”
Demir walked up to Samson and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that. You won’t be around long enough to see the end of it. But I’ll warn you that, as long as you live, I will continue to grind you to paste so you can live out what’s left of your life as a weak, pathetic wretch, both inside and out.”
“Your kindness astounds me.”
“Does that mean you agree?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” But what choice did he have? If he ended his own misery, it would cost him more lives. If he created bombs for Demir, he may be able to render most of them ineffective.
“Let me show you what it is you’ll spend the rest of your days doing if you so choose.”
Demir pointed at a wooden box in the corner of the room, and one of the guards dragged it to Samson. Then he picked up another and set it on the table.
Samson took a pipe bomb from the box on the floor and looked it over. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Dismantle it. We need it for parts.”
“That’s it?”
“For now. You have all the tools you’ll need, and we’ll leave a guard at the door in case you blow yourself up. And in case you’re beginning to hatch a plan to blow me up with you, don’t bother. You won’t see me in here again.”
Samson looked through the box on the table. “And what if I don’t know how to make a bomb?”
“Nice try, but I’ve done my homework. I know the training you’ve had. Enjoy your little project.” He nodded, then left the room followed by the guards.
After the door was shut and secured, Samson looked at what was in front of him. It was clear why they’d already lost two men to this. One wrong move would end his life.
The temptation to do it on purpose was real, and it was strong. Knowing that Delilah betrayed him under duress made sense and brought him some relief. He hadn’t completely misjudged her. But it didn’t make any difference. It didn’t give him any reason to live. And he didn’t believe Demir’s threats to kill everyone he knew if he ended it all were real. Demir wouldn’t risk drawing more attention to himself. So what reason was there left to live for?
Your life is not your own, and your job is not done. The voice spoke deeply into his heart. It was a voice so familiar, but it had been too long.
He closed his eyes. “I became worthless to you a long time ago. I knew all this time what you wanted from me, and I ignored you. I have nothing of any value to give to you anymore.”
You are all I ever wanted.
Samson scoffed. “And yet everything I’ve chosen to do for a long time was only ever about me.”
A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.
“What are you saying?”
I never left you. I’ve only been waiting.
“For what?”
For you to start listening again.
“But it’s too late now.”
You still have breath in your lungs. Your heart is still beating.
“Can you really use me in here?”
Why not?
Samson chewed on his lip. Maybe he was losing his mind being stuck in here, starving and beaten. Or maybe… He pulled the box on the floor closer and looked through it. There were pieces of bombs along with whole bombs. It looked like it had been gathered without much thought. They would have no idea how many explosives could be created with the pieces.
Creating defective bombs might make a dent in the damage Demir could do, but it wouldn’t stop him. What he needed to do was end the whole operation.
A plan began to come together in his mind. “This would be impossible.”
With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.
Samson leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. He remembered a Bible verse his mom had stuck to the fridge while he was growing up. He couldn’t remember the exact verse or where it came from in the Bible, but it said that hope doesn’t disappoint, because God poured out his love into our hearts. It was a scary thing to allow hope to enter his heart.
He used to think he had nothing to lose, but this was the first time it was actually true. Why not open his heart up to God again? If it was only madness playing with him, then so be it, but if it was God, that meant that life had not been forfeit because he made bad choices in his life. He had time to set himself back on God’s path.
He rose slowly to his feet, his body numb and aching at the same time.
“With whatever breath you have left for me to breathe, I give you what is left of my life. If you can use me to bring evil men to justice, then use me.”