Page 46 of PSYCHOlogical

“And you didn’t tell Martin the truth?”

He shook his head. “I did not.”

I pointed the tip of the barrel at his stomach. “Are you sure?”

“I swear it,” he stammered. “The orders come directly to me. Martin never sees them until after I sign them. The mission was marked for my eyes only.”

Beads of sweat poured from his brow and ran down along his face. My interrogation experience told me he was telling the truth, but I needed to know everything he knew, and nothing less.

“You have no idea who gave the order? He sends emails. You comply. It’s that easy?”

He nodded eagerly. “We receive an encrypted email giving the target’s name, personal data, and a recent photo. We may or may not receive data supporting the reason for elimination. Beyond that, we assemble the intel in-house. Since the inception of New Dawn, we’ve received instructions from one man in the DNI’s office. The emails have all been signed, ‘R.P. McMurphy’, but there’s no such person in the Office of the DNI that I can find.”

I laughed to myself. It was blatantly obvious that beyond assigning the order to kill Shephard, Wallace didn’t know a damned thing. With my suspicions confirmed, I was ready to begin phase two of my plan.

“Who was assigned to eliminate Shephard?” I asked.

“The order said there was to be no paperwork, no intel sheet, and that the operator utilized was not to be revealed to anyone in New Dawn, not even—”

I pointed the barrel of my pistol at his thigh.

“Who was it assigned to?” I demanded.

He swallowed heavily enough that I heard it. “Pike.”