Page 41 of The Brigadier

“I had our doctor take care of the gunshot. It was a through and through,” Danny said. At least he knew I wasn’t interested in the guy bleeding out.

We had a decent doctor on call, one who helped with the kind of injuries and gunshot wounds that it was best not to go to a hospital for.

“Good. I hope he’s not a Popsicle.” I was the one who opened the door, forced to wave away some frosty air, but it wasn’t as frigid as a refrigerator of this size should be.

There he was, the two LED lights in the roof of the stainless-steel piece highlighting the fact he was sitting in the corner, doing his best to keep his naked body warm. “You stripped his clothes?”

“More a mental thing,” Maxim growled.

As much as I’d enjoyed the bloodier side of the business when I was younger, running with Vadim as if we were going to rule the world, our regime had turned into a full-fledged series of businesses, not a torture chamber.

“Are you ready to talk?” I asked him.

He did lift his head, the exhaustion evident. “Non ho niente da dire.” His voice was cracked, which made sense.

I walked further, determined not to hold an interrogation inside. “You don’t have anything to say? Who are you protecting? They aren’t coming to your rescue.”

He seemed shocked I’d understood him, but acted as if he was going to spit in disgust.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I told him. “I simply want to ask you a few questions. Nothing more. Nothing less. If you are honest with me to the best of your ability, then we’ll get along just fine and I’ll be happy to let you go back to whoever sent you. With a message of course. If not, well, you won’t like what could happen.”

Maxim was literally growling beside me like some wild beast. I turned my head toward him, lifting a single eyebrow.

He grinned and backed away.

“Non so chi mi ha assunto. Non hanno offerto la loro identificazione,” he breathed and he was shivering.

“What the fuck did he say?” Danny asked.

“That whoever hired him didn’t provide his identity. I don’t know. That’s possible. Get him out of here. I’m cold.”

I backed out, trying to think about how to handle this. It was possible what he was telling me was accurate. It did happen. Often grunts were used to provide a single message, but two days’ worth? That’s what I needed to weigh.

As I rubbed my arms, he was brought out, tossed back into the hard metal chair. When Maxim started to tie him up, I waved my hand.

“I don’t think we need that at this point. He’s not going anywhere,” I told them, staring directly down at the unknown man. He was young, maybe late twenties. I didn’t see tracks on his arms as if he was a drug addict, but some shot up between their toes. No, his eyes weren’t bloodshot and he would have been going through limited withdrawals by now.

Danny slammed the walk-in door and both men, along with the four other soldiers who’d kept guard on the dude all night, stood off to the side.

I removed my jacket, wanting him to see that I had a weapon in a holster. “Look, I have a feeling what you just told me is correct, but that doesn’t change that you followed the woman, terrifying her and making my men chase after you. What were you hired to do? We’ll start small.”

“They will kill me,” he said in English, which was a marked improvement.

“I’m going to venture a guess whoever hired you did so by speaking Italian.”

He sighed, looking elsewhere and Maxim just couldn’t help himself, smacking the dude across the face.

I threw my hand out again. I had the distinct feeling the man wanted to talk. Or at minimum he wanted to live.

“Answer the question,” I told him. “Phone or direct contact?”

He took way too long answering. I crouched down, pulling out my weapon. Often with those not in the business, and only hired for a limited gig, merely allowing them to understand what could happen produced results. “One last time or I’ll tag in my Russian friend to convince you to talk.”

He glanced up at Maxim, obviously fearful enough. “College campus.”

“What college?”

“Columbia,” he said almost sheepishly, as if I was going to make fun of him.