Nemesis
“He sat in an uncomfortable chair on one side of the table in a small white-walled windowless interview room. He was sitting very still, trying to look arrogant and unconcerned, but too young and too scared to pull it off. He kept rubbing at the sling on his arm. He didn’t look to be in any pain. His lips were moving in repetitive Arabic phrases, probably repeating a prayer over and over.Sherlock, Kelly, and Cal, along with a half-dozen other agents, stood in the next room, watching Shadid close...ly through the one-way glass. All of them knew he was their last hope to get any useful information. They’d spoken to the teenage girl who’d blown up the house in Brooklyn the night before, Kenza the name on her passport. They’d found her lying in her hospital bed under guard, her right arm elevated and her wrist wired, her arm swathed in bandages to her elbow. Without the cap she’d worn the previous night, her short dark hair stood in spikes around her face. She looked like a young East Ender.MoreLess
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