In Katoโs prison cell, the sound of the lock opening shot through the small space. The tall man with a goatee stepped inside again, this time holding a folder.
โYeah,โ he said, drawing the word out. โThat line you shot us before is not playing well upstairs.โ
He threw the folder on the metal table. โWhat I have here is a file on a Sicherheitsdienst Sturmbannfรผhrerโโ He looked up. โOof, thatโs a mouthful. I guess when they integrated with the Covenant, the SSย reallyย wanted to keep their ranks and organization.โ He tapped the folder. โAnywho, point is, this SD spook looks suspiciously like youโas in, he is you. As in, we know who you are, and ergoโby the way, I just learned that word, ergo, which means thereforeโso therefore, ergo, you have info we want.โ He held his hands up. โAnd weโre not super particular about how we get it. Hard way. Easy way. All fine by us. Not a lot of love lost for the Covenant around here.โ
He waited.
Kato said nothing.
โHey, itโs more paperwork for me if we go the super unpleasant way, but frankly, I hope you choose that. Frankly, I donโt mind the paperwork. Itโs a bit cathartic, really, writing it all down, sorting through what happened in a room like this and how I feel about it. Writing can be therapeutic, you know?โ
He stared at Kato, eyes like lasers carving him up, unblinking, cold and deadly. โSo, what do you want to do, SD spook?โ
โIโm not who you think I am.โ
โThatโs disappointing. I figured you SD operatives would have better lies than that. We get that one all the time.โ The interrogator made his voice whiny and pleading. โYouโve got the wrong guy, really, Iโm telling ya.โ
โI donโt have the answers you want. Iโm not supposed to be here.โ
โWell, on that last point, we agree. But weโre going to start peeling the onion here and find out what you know.โ
*
In the dank cell, Ty listened as the man called again, the same refrain he had repeated several times now: โHungry? Talk, and weโll feed you. All you have to do is start talkingโand youโll start eating.โ
Tyโs jailer left the hall and returned with a metal tray, which he set on the floor outside Tyโs cell, out of reach. The smell of meat and butter and spices wafted through the small opening in the door.
It was a kind of torture Ty never knew existed: to be hungry and smell food. Still, he didnโt say a word. He knew if he did, it might hurt Nora, Kato, or Maria. Or himself.
But each time they brought the tray and took it away, he felt himself breaking a little more.