‘Gag him,’ Draper said, nodding towards Hobbs. Her voice was emotionless. Ominous, like welded razor wire.
Koenig had never met this version of Draper. This was the Draper who’d worked behind the curtains. Who knew where the black sites were. Who’d been involved in extraordinary renditions. The Draper who’d tortured enemy combatants. Koenig hated himself for forcing her to become the person she’d struggled for so long to escape.
So, Koenig did as he was asked and gagged Hobbs. Tore off a strip of duct tape and stuck it over his mouth. Smoothed it out but lifted a corner and folded it in on itself. It would make it easier to rip off. Like the crocodile tear strip on a FedEx parcel. Or a grip tab on a pack of sliced turkey. He gagged Hobbs not just because it was what Draper had ordered; he did it so he shared culpability for what was about to happen. He wanted Draper to know that if it came down to it, he’d be standing by her side when the Monday morning quarterbacks judged their course of action.
‘Here’s how this is going to work,’ Draper called out to Hobbs. ‘In a minute, I’m going to remove the tape from your daughter’s mouth and replace it with a towel. Mr Koenig will lift her legs so they’re above her head and I will start pouring water over the towel using the two-gallon container you considerately had in your closet. Harper will keep her mouth closed, but she can’t shut her nose and sinus cavities. They will quickly fill with water. Her immediate reaction will be to hold her breath. It’s everyone’s first reaction and it’s quite natural. In fact, it’ll be her only option. But this is a high-pressure situation, not a controlled test. In all my years doing this, I never saw anyone last more than thirty seconds. I’ve never heard of anyone lasting more than thirty seconds. Harper’s gag reflex will make her expel the air from her lungs. This will clear the water from her nose, but then what? She’s already held her breath. She’s in an oxygen deficit. She’ll do the only thing she can: she’ll inhale. But she won’t be inhaling air, she’ll be inhaling water. This water won’t stay in her mouth and nose, though. She’ll suck it into her lungs. And when that happens, the simulated drowning stops and the actual drowning starts.’ She paused. ‘Nod if you understand.’
Hobbs nodded, defeated.
‘Now, you might wonder why I’ve gagged you,’ Draper continued. ‘The answer is simple. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Not yet. If I ask you questions under the threat of hurting your daughter, you might be tempted to tell me a lie. Or a half-truth. Or you might think you’ll get away with the sin of omission. This is why you’re gagged. I’m about to hurt your daughter and I need you to understand that there is nothing you can do to stop me.’
Hobbs started to buck and thrash on his stool. His eyes bulged. His scalp wound burst open. Koenig made no move to close it. He now understood why Draper was doing this the way she was. It was psyops. Psychological operations. Influencing emotion and behaviour by conveying information in a certain way. Draper was in Hobbs’s head now. And so far, she hadn’t done anything. Koenig was impressed, the same way a stranded surfer might be impressed by how, in that moment, in that environment, the great white circling their longboard was the perfect killing machine. He’d asked her to do this, but he was still appalled.
Hobbs began to weep.
‘I’m going to keep pouring the water until I decide to stop,’ she said. ‘It might be twenty seconds; it might be three minutes. I’ll keep pouring the water until you’re begging to tell me what we want to know. Again, nod if you understand.’
Hobbs didn’t this time. He seemed stunned. Like he couldn’t believe what was happening. It seemed like even though he dealt in death, he’d never believed it would happen to him. That karma was for other people. Ten minutes ago, he’d been talking about tempura. Now he was tied to a stool and his daughter was about to be drowned like kittens in a sack.
‘Lift her legs, please,’ Draper said.
Koenig didn’t ask if she was sure. He lifted Nash’s legs.
And Draper began to pour.