It is Marja.”she whined. “Marja made me do it. She ... she ... she... , “ Amy trailed off.It had taken less than 30 minutes to break her.“What...is Marja’s last name?” The questions droned on. Amy implicated Marja deeper and deeper in any conspiracy that would save her from the washtub. Alexander was writing furiously in the dossier.Amy remained hanging from the bar. Her legs had cramped. She sobbed uncontrollably. The pain wouldn’t stop. She let out a piercing scream as spasms shook her. Did I mention that the NSA wasn’t there yet? Well, Fred and Phil were there, but they’d been pushed aside. We were on FBI turf, now.Things reverted to “normal” for the boys in blue. Or whatever you call FBI agents.A man came into the room. He didn’t introduce himself. He looked at me and said, “Come with me.”“Before we go, may I speak?” I asked.“No,” he said, curtly.He reached for my elbow.Bobby and I had talked about all this long before it happened. I had told him what I just told you, up. More

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