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"She would not," Rodgers said.

Mary Rose's eyes grew wider with fear. She pressed her lips together and continued to look at Rodgers. He stood straight and strong, her touchstone.

Hasan continued to stare at Mary Rose. "Does this man speak for you?" he asked "Is it he who will lose his fingers painfully one at a time? Perhaps you want to talk to me. Perhaps you do not wish to be mutilated."

"The knives are in your hands, not ours," Rodgers pointed out.

"Truly," said Hasan, casting a look at Rodgers. "But the farmer who whips his stubborn mule is not cruel. He is doing his work. We are merely doing ours."

"Without imagination," Rodgers charged. "And certainly without courage."

"We do what we must, all of us," Hasan replied.

"Talateen," said Mahmoud.

"Thirty seconds," Hasan said. He gazed at Coffey and Katzen. "Does someone else wish to help? If any of you cooperate with us now, you will save not just the lady, but also yourself unthinkable suffering."

"Ishreen!" Mahmoud barked.

"Twenty seconds," Hasan said. He looked at Coffey. "You, perhaps? Will you be the hero, the one who saves her?"

The attorney regarded Rodgers. Rodgers's gaze was fixed on the windshield.

Coffey took a calming breath. "If the young lady wants my help," he said, "I will give it."

Mary Rose blinked out tears. Then she smiled weakly and shook her head with little jerks.

"Ashara " said Mahmoud.

"Ten seconds," said Hasan. He bent close to Mary Rose. "You indicate no, yet I do not believe that is what you mean. Think, young woman. There is not very much time."

"Tisa "

"Nine seconds," Hasan said to her. "Soon you will be wet with your own blood."

"Tamanya "

"Eight seconds," said Hasan. "Then you will scream piteously to cooperate."

"Saba "

"Seven seconds," Hasan said. "And with every finger that is removed, there will be more unendurable pain."

Mary Rose was breathing heavily. There was terror in her eyes.

"She's got more courage than you do," Rodgers said proudly.

"Sitta khamsa "

"We will see," Hasan said. "You have five seconds, my young woman. Then you will beg to speak."

Hasan had been smirking slightly during the countdown. But now Rodgers noticed that his mouth had turned down. Had the insult touched him, or was he concerned that they wouldn't get the information after all? Or could it be that Hasan had no stomach for bloodshed, despite his vivid commentary?

"Arba "

"Four," warned Hasan.

Part of Rodgers--a very large part of him--wanted to gamble that Mahmoud wasn't going to go through with this. The Syrians had had nearly two minutes to think about their predicament and also to see what the American team was made of. By capturing the ROC, the Syrians had lost whatever head start they had on the Turks. If they had to leave now, patrols would be everywhere. The Syrians needed the ROC and its crew, and might well be wondering if they hadn't underestimated their captives. If maybe they should have done what Rodgers had asked.

"Talehta "

"Three seconds," Hasan said. "Think of the knife cutting through bone and muscle. Over and over, ten times over."

Rodgers could hear Mary Rose panting. But she wasn't talking, Clod bless her. He'd never been prouder of his own soldiers than he was of her.

"Itneyn "

"Two seconds."

"Monster!" Coffey screamed, and began to struggle against his bonds. The Syrians paid no attention to him. Katzen was awake now and clearly trying to take everything in.

"Wehid!"

"The time is up," Hasan said. He looked at Mary Rose.

Mahmoud, however, looked at Rodgers. There was a moment's hesitation, and then something bitter and vengeful came into Mahmoud's eyes. Perhaps he was looking through Rodgers at some other enemy, some distant pain. His upper lip curled, and at that moment Rodgers knew he'd lost.

"Don't!" Rodgers said as the Syrian began to press down with the knife. He was still looking at the windshield, but he nodded so Mahmoud would understand. "Don't do it. I'll get you on the road."