Talk

Drew continues to study Misty, his skepticism growing. “That is interesting…indeed…” He straightens up and thumbs to the door. “I think you better take a ride with us to headquarters. You know enough that I wouldn’t want anything happening to that pretty head of yours before we got the information out of you. We can make it by morning, and on the way down, you can tell me more about what’s been going on with Carson.”



“You know the routine,” Newman states flatly. “We debrief you, then you go to headquarters.”

Carson looks between Newman and Sean. They were in a shack near the lake, where no one was…where no one could hear anything. He had expected this. Perhaps his kidnapping, or rescue, rather, had not been known to him, but after believing the Agency would kill him on sight, it had been a relief to have made it this far. But now they wanted answers. They wanted information. He’d played it cool so far, acting as though he’d known he would be rescued from TJY, but now he was beginning to wonder just how much further he could go.

He can feel a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. Words replay in his mind…his words…words of promise…words of commitment. He’d promised TJY that he would be on their side. Images of Misty flash through his mind.

Carson was facing something he’d never thought he would. Right here, right now, he could save his hide by giving up everything he’d just learned about TJY. If he gave these men what they wanted, he could settle back into the Agency as if he’d never been gone, and no one would ever know that he’d once been swayed by the other side.

But for once…that thought was enough to make his stomach churn. He saw Misty’s eyes…those spitfire eyes full of compassion that had drawn him out of the darkness. Could he betray that? He sees his sister again…what the Agency had done…could he continue to betray his family’s memory by remaining in the ranks of the very corporation that had slaughtered them? TJY had taught him that there was hope…there really was hope of taking down the Agency. Could he turn his back on that now?

Days ago, he would have sold out TJY without blinking. But now…tonight…he just couldn’t do it.

“Sorry, boys. I don’t know anything.”

Newman cocks his gun. “Now, I didn’t expect you, of all people, to hold out on us, Mr. Banks. Come now.”

Carson grits his teeth, the pressure increasing. “I don’t recall anything about where I’ve been or who I’ve talked to.”

Newman gestures to Sean. “Tie him up. We’re not through yet…”


…A back handed slap whips Carson’s head to the side with enough force he would have fallen over, had he not been bound to the chair. Blood fills his mouth and he spits it out, staining the wood flooring. “You rat.”

Newman lets out a laugh. “How’s it feel to be on the other side of things, Carson? You think I don’t know what methods you’ve used on people? You think I don’t know to make people talk? You may not know me, but let me assure you I know my job. Now…” He turns Carson’s head back towards him. “Who’s the ringleader?

Carson’s eyes glare at his enemy.

“Where are the computer chips?”

Still Carson is silent. His reward is several punches in a row to his eye and the side of his face, sending enough pain zinging through his head to cause him almost to pass out. He had a way out of this. If he just would tell them what they wanted. He’d be able to save himself. He winces, fighting against himself. “I don’t know anything.”

“Yes you do!” Newman walks around the chair, yanking Carson’s head back by a chunk of his sweaty hair. “You want more pain? I’ll give it to you!”

Carson can barely keep his swelling eyes open and suddenly feels a strong blow to his left shoulder. His chair is sent over backward, his head bouncing off the floor with no way to brace himself. He cries out in pain, his shoulder dislocated, and his head receiving a gash.

“Come on, Carson,” Newman taunts. “Just give me one little bit of information and we can all go home. I’ll make it easy. I won’t even ask about the computer chips. I won’t even ask about agendas or bases or the headquarters. All I want to know is the name of the ringleader. Just that name. I’d even settle for a last name only, how’s that?” He walks around Carson, not bothering to pick his captive up.

Carson’s breath comes in short gasps, uttering a curse. “Shove it, Newman.”

Newman is about ready to land a kick to Carson’s head, when Sean intervenes. “He’s had enough.”