Chapter 7 - The Interrogation
We bound Helen to a chair in a soundproofed basement on the outskirts of the city. For a woman staring down the barrel of treason and espionage, she was remarkably calm.
"The codes, Helen," I demanded, pacing the floor. "Give me the perimeter access codes for Site Echo."
She laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. "Do you know what they do at Echo, Sarah? They strip your mind. They use chemical compounds to peel away your resistance. Marcus went there to destroy the mainframe, but he failed. He’s strapped to a chair right now, spilling every state secret he ever learned."
I grabbed a syringe from Vance’s medical kit. It was sodium pentothal mixed with a heavy adrenaline cocktail.
"I spent a decade interrogating terrorists, Helen," I whispered, pressing the needle against her neck. "This isn't to make you talk. This is to keep you awake while I break your fingers."
Her calm facade cracked. For a fraction of a second, I saw raw fear.
"Wait," she hissed. "The codes change every twelve hours. I can’t give them to you. I have to transmit them via a secure handshake from a Vanguard terminal."
"Then do it," Vance said, setting up the encrypted laptop.
Under the threat of excruciating pain, Helen typed in her credentials. The screen verified her biometrics and displayed a barcode matrix.
"We have the keys to the castle," Vance said, downloading the matrix to a tactical datapad.
I looked at Helen. "You lived in my house for twenty-four years. Did you ever feel anything? Or was it all just a mission?"
Helen looked up at me, her eyes hollow. "You were just an assignment, Sarah. Nothing more."
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I didn't blink. I raised my weapon and struck her across the temple with the butt of the gun. She slumped over, unconscious.
"Zip-tie her," I told Vance. "Leave an anonymous tip for the FBI. Let her rot in a federal black hole."
