Chapter 7 - Interrogation in the Dark

Cole and Miller scrambled backward, their chairs screeching against the concrete floor as they clawed frantically for their sidearms.

"Don't move," I said, stepping into the harsh fluorescent light of the office, the black barrel of my pistol locked dead on Miller's forehead. "Move an inch, and your brains will be painted across that television set."

Miller froze, his hands hovering inches from his holster, sweat beading instantly across his upper lip. Cole raised his hands slowly, his face drained of all color. "Whoa, whoa, Harper! Wait! We were just following orders! Sterling gave the command! It was business, man!"

"Business," I repeated, my voice dropping into a deadly, rhythmic cadence. You broke into my home. You beat a sixteen-year-old girl who never harmed a soul in her life. You think that's business?"

"She wouldn't tell us where the drive was!" Miller blurted out, panic cracking his voice. "We had to—we had to soften her up! It wasn't supposed to go that far!"

I closed the distance between us in a single bound. Before Miller could blink, I grabbed him by the tactical vest, hauled him out of his chair, and slammed him face-first against the concrete wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him in a violent wheeze. I pressed the muzzle of my pistol directly behind his right ear.

"Where is Victor Sterling?" I demanded.

"I—I don't know! I swear to God!" Miller choked out, tears springing to his eyes. "He operates out of a private estate in Arlington! He flies out of a private airfield near Dulles tomorrow morning! That's all I know! Please, man, have mercy!"

"Mercy is what my daughter showed you when she opened the front door thinking you were a friend," I hissed. "You don't get to ask for what you refused to give."

I struck him across the temple with the heavy polymer grip of the pistol. Miller crumpled unconscious to the floor like a sack of wet cement.

I turned my cold gaze toward Cole, who was shaking so violently his teeth were chattering. "You want to live, Cole?"

"Yes! Yes, please!"

"Take your phone. Call Victor Sterling right now. Tell him the job in Oak Creek is finished, the house is clean, and you need an immediate face-to-face debrief at his Arlington estate tonight."

Cole fumbled in his pocket with trembling fingers, pulled out his burner phone, and dialed the number under my direct supervision. On the third ring, a smooth, cultured voice answered.

"Report," Sterling said coldly.

Cole looked at me, terrified. I nodded once.

"Boss... it's done," Cole swallowed hard, reading the script I had mapped out in my head. "The girl won't talk, but we secured the package from the study. We need to meet you at the estate tonight to drop it off. It's too hot to keep here."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Then Sterling sighed. "Very well. Come straight to the manor. Use the rear security gate—I'll deactivate it for you."

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"On my way," Cole whispered, and hung up.

I looked down at Cole, raised the pistol, and delivered a swift strike to his jaw, putting him down beside his partner. Then I tied both of them securely with industrial flex-cuffs, gagged them with duct tape, and walked out into the cool night air. Sterling's invitation was waiting.