The Redhead

(A True Story)

            She has red hair and a happy face full of freckles and a big smile. Prototypical American. You’d expect to see her at the soccer field with children and dogs tumbling out of a white minivan.

            You’d be surprised to learn that she speaks French and fluent Arabic. You’d be even more surprised to learn that she was in the US Navy, just back from a tour as one of the interrogators at Guantanamo.

            She laughs at your shocked look. She knows how she appears, and she uses it. “Interrogation is a lot about disrupting expectations, scrambling understandings and beliefs,” she says.

            “When I walk into a detainee’s room, I can see the surprise and contempt in his face. He wonders why they sent in a woman – maybe to clean up his cell. He knows what American interrogations are like. He’s seen the movie and television clips. He’s watched Jack Bauer of 24 shoot kneecaps and scream at prisoners. His trainers have confirmed these things and told him he must be brave, must resist their inhumane methods and be strong for jihad and Allah.

            “When is the real interrogator coming in?” he asks. She smiles and tells him she’s sorry, she’s the only one he’s going to get. She tells him this in Arabic, and his mind makes another slight stumble.

            She tells him about her own faith. “I’m a Christian,” she says. “I believe that Jesus Christ died to save all of us, that he loves all of us – that he loves you as much as he loves me, and that he wants me to love you.”

            He smiles to himself. This is what he has been expecting. He knows that all Western women are sluts, so he waits for her to try to seduce him, to use sex to get him to talk. He’s not concerned about succumbing, of course, he’s been trained to resist this kind of ploy.

            But nothing happens, not then, not even over the next few months. The pattern stays the same: She comes in, bright and cheerful. She tells him about her family, asks him about his, about his home. His expectations about seduction dissolve. He even starts to like her and to look forward to seeing her. Her warmth and openness are a nice change from the grimness of his cell and the rest of the prison.

            Their conversations are always easy, always friendly. She wonders how he got involved with Al Qaeda, and he tries to explain things to her. She never asks him about secrets or who’s hiding where. He doesn’t know those things anyway. He only knows about small things, like how he avoided the checkpoints and where he picked up the packages he had to deliver….

            Just the things she wants to know.