‘I don’t think this damn guy has got a clue what we’re on about,’ said Quesada, in an accent that was a fascinating blend of Spanish and American Forces Network, so prevalent in Latin Americans.
Quesada was talking to Pelops, and the reason for their interrogation of the policeman was lying on the state room table. It was the E-pad belonging to Weeny, which was in the policeman’s possession when he and Marty were captured on the fort. It sat there, tantalising the evil pair, displaying an encrypted message. But all it portrayed to them was three lines of totally unintelligible gobbledegook flickering on the screen, laughing at their inability to decipher it.
‘I cut out finger nails out, one by one. He soon speak then.’ Pelops flicked out the deadly looking switchblade.’
‘God, you can be
