He was right. Sirens wailed in the distance. Getting closer. London's finest responding to reports of automatic weapons fire.
“Help me with him.” I grabbed the unconscious man under thearms. Sebastian took his legs. We dragged him out to the bike, threw him across the back, secured him with zip ties.
Then we rode. Fast. Away from the sirens and the bodies and the evidence of what we'd done.
Away from the warehouse full of corpses we'd left behind like breadcrumbs for whoever came looking.
The farmhouse wasthirty miles out. Derelict. Abandoned. The kind of place that had been forgotten by everyone except people who needed places to disappear.
Adrian owned it through a shell company. Used it for exactly this. For interrogations. For things that needed to happen far from witnesses.
We dragged the man inside. The generator hummed to life when I flipped the switch. Lights flickered on. Bare bulbs hanging from wires. Cracked walls. Holes in the roof where moonlight bled through.
Perfect.
I cuffed the man to a pipe in what used to be a kitchen. Sebastian stood by the window, watching the road. Making sure nobody had followed.
“He won't talk yet,” Sebastian said without turning around.
“He will.”
“Will he? Or will he just tell us what we want to hear?”
“There is difference?”
“Yeah. Truth versus survival.” He finally looked at me. “People say anything when they're afraid. Doesn't mean it's real.”
“Then we make him fear the truth more than the lies.”
Sebastian's expression didn't change. But something shifted in his eyes. Something that looked like recognition. Like he knew exactly what I meant.
Like he'd done this before.
The interrogation started slow. Clinical. I zip-tied the man's handsto the pipe above his head. Checked the bindings. Made sure he couldn't escape.
Sebastian stood by the window, watching. Silent. His bow leaned against the wall beside him. Blood still on his hands from the warehouse.
“Last chance to talk without pain,” I said to the man. “Tell us about Ghost Zero.”
“I already told you. I don't know anything.”
“Wrong answer.”
I broke his right index finger. Quick. Clean. The snap echoed in the empty room.
He screamed. High and sharp. The sound bounced off cracked walls.
“Ghost Zero,” I repeated. “Who is he?”
“I don't know! I swear I don't know!”
I broke another finger. Middle finger this time. He screamed louder.
Sebastian shifted by the window. Didn't look away. Just watched. Learning. Or remembering.
“Let me try something,” Sebastian said quietly.
He crossed the room. Crouched in front of the man. Looked him in the eyes.
