Page 87 of Delusion in Death
“Methods used throughout history to demoralize and break POWs, and to turn them when possible into assets.”
“It’s worse than what happened to me.”
She wanted to pace, to steam off the angry energy. Because she needed all the energy she could get, from whatever source, she continued to stand, rocking on her heels.
“These kids lost families who loved them, or were taken from them, then systematically tortured and brainwashed. The older ones, the stronger ones were used as labor—and if a girl was old enough, they forced her to have sex with one of the boys. They had freaking ceremonies, Roarke, and watched. Like a celebration.”
“Sit down, Eve.”
“No, I’m okay. Working through being pissed. It’s harder to work clean pissed off. I’ve got records of over thirty live births through abducted kids. The youngest on record was twelve. Twelve, for God’s sake. They took the babies from the girls. Impregnated them again when possible. I have one who was fifteen when recovered. She’d had three babies. She self-terminated six months after recovery. She’s not the only. Self-termination rates among the abductees is estimated at fifteen percent, before the age of eighteen.”
She took a long breath. “Most of the data on pregnancies and suicides came from Callendar and Teasdale. Nadine didn’t dig it up, because it’s classified. I’m not sure Summerset’s sources knew all of it or told him.”
“No, he’d have told us if he knew.”
“Why isn’t this public knowledge? Why wasn’t it screamed from fucking rooftops?”
Difficult for anyone to think of children being tortured and raped, he thought. But when you’ve been a child who’d been tortured and raped, it hit harder, and it hit closer.
“I think a combination of factors.” He rose to go to her, ran his hands up and down her arms to soothe them both. “The massive confusion during that era, the desperation of governments to cover up some of the worst. And the needs of the victims, their families, to put it all behind them.”
“It’s never behind you. It’s always in front of you.”
“Would you consider going public with what happened to you?”
“It’s my personal business. It’s not…” She breathed again. “Okay, I get that. Or at least some of it. But burying it—not just here, but in Europe, everywhere it happened. That took work and purpose and a hell of a lot of money.”
“The authorities didn’t, or couldn’t, protect the most vulnerable, and from a radical cult, one that wasn’t well funded or organized. Such things are worth the work and money to many.”
“HSO was practically running things, at least in the States back then.”
“And the power may have slipped away during the post-war rebuild if this had been public knowledge. I don’t know, Eve.”
“They’re giving me the data now, or some of it.”
“It appears Teasdale’s superior genuinely intends to run a clean house, or as clean as such houses can be.”
“Then he’s got a lot of dirt to sweep.” Not her job, she reminded herself. “I need to get back to it.”
“Why don’t we take a look at some of Callaway’s background first?”
“You’re not finished.”
“Enough to start.”
“I can’t let this get personal. And I can’t stop it from being personal.”
“If you could stop it, you wouldn’t be the woman or the cop you are.”
“I hope that’s true.”
“I know it is. Here, let’s have some of this.” He put his arms around her. “For both of us.”
She held on. He’d given her someone to hold on to. A gift she never wanted to take for granted. She thought she’d known what darkness was, and despair and terror. Now she knew there were people who lived and worked and slept and ate who’d known far, far worse.
She hoped they had someone to hold on to.
“Okay.” She drew back, laid her hands on his face briefly. “Callaway.”