Chapter 6
Viktor Garris stood before the prisoner who’d been restrained to a chair in his private interrogation room.
The man had a bloody nose and a swollen eye—evidently, he hadn’t come peacefully. He was larger than either Mallon or Donista, which made him a rarity in Dreswick, where malnutrition often stunted growth.
The prisoner glared at Viktor, who glanced casually at his two enforcers standing behind him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this individual is not who you were sent to retrieve.
” He kept his voice even, though if his employees had a brain cell between them, they’d recognize Viktor’s disappointment—and how precarious their current situation was.
“He wasn’t there, sir. He went underground, and we couldn’t get through the door without bringing attention to ourselves. And you’d said that Voss had said, ‘no attention,’” Donista blurted in a rush.
Viktor winced when Donista mentioned Roman’s name. He’d been considering releasing the man after questioning, but that was now out of the question.
“That’s why we grabbed this one.” Mallon gestured to the prisoner. “The manager said that these two are buddies, practically inseparable.”
“Is that right.” Viktor returned his focus to the man in the chair, who was still glaring up at him.
The prisoner spat blood that hit the floor inches from Viktor’s shoe.
Viktor ignored the action. “Nolan Brynn, that’s your name, correct?
” He was already confident it was. His amp had run a facial recognition search the moment Viktor laid eyes on him.
Instead of confirming, the man replied, “Listen, pal. I’m losing a day’s worth of pay every hour you hold me here, so how about you just get started with whatever you’re going to do to me already.”
Most prisoners pleaded and cried. A few acted tough—like this one—for at least a while. “Very well then. I wish to know everything there is to know about your friend.”
“I don’t have any friends.”
“I’m referring to a Mr. Callum Bennett.”
“I don’t know a Mr. Callum Bennett, and if I did, I’d guarantee anyone who went by ‘Mister’ wouldn’t be a friend of mine,” he sneered.
“We’ll see.” Viktor cracked his knuckles and walked over to the cabinet. He tapped his passcode and opened the doors wide. He could hear the prisoner’s sharp intake of breath. Sometimes, just seeing Viktor’s tools was enough to break a prisoner. He knew this one would take more than that.
Viktor opened the small cooler on the middle shelf and pulled out a syringe.
He held it up for Nolan to see as he approached.
“This contains bionanites. I’m sure you’ve seen the ads.
These particular nanites are quite impressive.
Besides monitoring your health, they instruct and assist your cells in repairing critical damage to your body’s organs so you don’t die.
And I assure you, there will be critical damage.
It’s just a question of whether the bionanites can keep up. ”
Viktor injected the nanites in the man’s shoulder and stepped back to allow them to spread throughout his body.
The prisoner put on a brave face, but Viktor could tell he was afraid.
After all, Nolan Brynn had never been through an interrogation before, so there would be a small part of him that was unsure he was tough enough to last.
“The answer is no,” Viktor said.
The prisoner shot him a questioning look.
Viktor smiled. “No, you are not strong enough to withstand my interrogation techniques.” He then nodded to Mallon. “Start the clock.”
“Ninety-three minutes,” Viktor said, wiping his hands with a towel. “I’m impressed. You lasted twenty minutes longer than I expected.”
Nolan Brynn still sat in the chair, his restraints keeping him from toppling forward.
His head hung limply, and saliva dripped from his mouth.
Blood, among other bodily fluids, marred the floor beneath him.
He hadn’t bled overly much—Viktor’s amp was an excellent guide at how best to conduct a physical interrogation without risking significant blood loss or brain damage.
The prisoner had talked—they always did—but offered little useful information beyond confirming that Bennett was in possession of the stolen amp, and that—somehow—the amp was implanted without causing brain damage.
Learning how Dr. Katz accomplished that alone would guarantee a huge increase in profits for Softbiotics.
Since she wasn’t alive to share how she did it, they’d have to find her personal computer.
Her death was proving more and more of a problem.
Roman Voss may also glean the information by reverse-engineering the test subject himself.
The interrogation revealed two very important pieces of information on that front: the address of Bennett’s apartment as well as the name of Bennett’s only family member—that sort of knowledge could always provide potential leverage…
assuming Bennett returned to the surface.
As long as he remained in the underground labyrinth, he’d be nearly impossible to find.
Unfortunately, the prisoner knew nothing about Bennett’s connection to the Crawl, which meant either the two weren’t as close as Mallon had said, or Bennett had gone underground out of desperation.
If it was the latter, Callum Bennett was likely already dead, and Viktor would be searching for a one-centimeter amp in a tunnel system that sprawled tens of miles.
Viktor would have to give Roman Voss an update, and he already knew that Voss would demand the amp’s retrieval, even if it meant bringing it back inside a corpse.
He turned back to Nolan Brynn. “You’ll be pleased to know that your interrogation is now complete.”
The prisoner slowly raised his head to meet Viktor’s gaze, doubt in his eyes.
“But…” Viktor continued. “I’m afraid returning you to your home is not possible.
” If news got out of an adult being implanted with an amp, then the rumors would spread faster than Viktor could quash them.
“And since we don’t have holding cells in this facility, I need you to volunteer for a Softbiotics clinical trial so you can be relocated to a secure lab. ”
“Go to hell,” Nolan managed to say.
“Did you just volunteer for a Softbiotics clinical trial? I think you just volunteered,” Viktor pressed.
“I won’t ever volunteer, and you can suck my dick.”
Viktor smiled. “Thank you for volunteering for Project 32.”
Nolan scowled. “I didn’t volunteer for nothing.”
Viktor gestured to Donista. “Play it on the speaker.”
Donista nodded, and a second later, his amp played the truncated voice recording through the room’s speakers. “I volunteer.”
“I didn’t say that,” Nolan protested.
“Ah, but you did. Any voice recognition software will verify you spoke those words,” Viktor said. “Enforcer Donista’s amp is exceptional with voice recordings, don’t you agree?”
Even with one eye swollen shut, the prisoner’s glare was palpable.
Viktor sobered. “But I should warn you, you’ll soon wish to be back here in this interrogation room rather than in one of Roman Voss’s labs. That man truly is a monster.”