Page 75 of Operation: Sharp Angel

“Thought so,” Tessman said.

They led him down the stairs, Jackson holding on to Standish’s arm so he wouldn’t trip even though Tessman would love to push this guy down the stairs. But you didn’t get intel out of dead men. And after that phone call, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Standish had intel to spill. He couldn’t wait to sit this guy on the metal bench in the warehouse and interrogate him. James Standish didn’t have what it would take to hold up against intense questioning. Tessman would bet anyone who’d take the bet that Standish would piss his pants before the day was over.

X-Ray

Shepherd Security had acquired a warehouse in a manufacturing area near O’Hare International Airport several years earlier, realizing a need for a location to sequester perps at that didn’t need to be transported to their isolation facility, the Silo. While the warehouse was less secure than the Silo, it was closer and was a good choice for certain situations, such as this one.

Becca knew what kind of facility they were at when they rolled through the large garage door and it closed again before Eddie had put the van in park. The problem was, given that she was an attorney, she was considered an officer of the court. She had a duty to promote justice and uphold the law. And accompanying a group of quasi-military, quasi-law enforcement officers to what amounted to a black site, where God knows what was about to take place, did not jibe with her duty. No justice or the upholding of the law was going to take place in this building, she was sure.

But hopefully, the truth would be learned here, which wouldn’t happen in a police station. These two men were going to lawyer up and not divulge who had sent them, why, or what they’d had in store for her, just as the man Carter had been forced to shoot at her sister’s house had. The bad guys didn’t follow the law as the good guys were expected to. That left a hell of a disparity between doing the right thing and stopping the bad guys, or in this case, even figuring out what the hell the bad guys were doing and why. That was her mental justification for not speaking up about this.

Eddie exited the van and held her door open for her. She stepped out and viewed the rough warehouse they were parked in. There were metal walls, a cement floor, and rows of industrial lighting overhead that were suspended from metal beams. A chill invaded her, and it wasn’t because the temperature in there had to be at least twenty degrees cooler than the outside.

Eddie escorted her to the third metal door of four that were on the wall straight ahead. Just like at their headquarters building, it required a code and palmprint scan to unlock the door. He activated lights in the room and stepped in first, ushering her in. There were three large windows with dark rooms beyond the glass, one on each wall. He flipped switches on the control panel and lights activated in each of the three rooms, illuminating what could only be described as interrogation rooms.

“You’re a smart lady,” Winston said. “You know exactly what’s going to go down here. If that’s a problem for you, speak up now and we’ll escort you back to HQ.”

Her gut tightened. “I have to know what they’re going to say,” she said.

“We can get you the cliff notes later,” Winston said.

She shook her head. “No, I have to hear it all for myself.”

Winston nodded. “You were warned.” He pointed to the windows. “Two-way mirrors, and this room is soundproof. Theywon’t know who’s in here. No one will ever know who was in here watching the interrogations.”

“I won’t lie if I’m ever called to testify about it,” she said.

“That’s not ever going to happen,” Flores said, coming into the room behind her.

At the same time, there was movement in the room to her far left. Carter and Jackson led in a man with a black hood over his head. She recognized the clothing he wore. It was James Standish. They made him sit on a metal bench that was beside a metal table and chairs. They snipped the zip tie binding his wrists, but attached him to the bench with the metal handcuffs that were secured to the bench. He didn’t struggle at all.

Then they left the room, leaving him sitting alone, the hood still on his head. Not that she felt empathy for James Standish, but she’d not be human if she didn’t put herself in anyone’s place who found themselves there. It had to be terrifying.

“Have a seat,” Flores said to her, pointing to one of the three chairs in the room. Then he left.

Moments later, Carter and Jackson brought another man into the room on the far right. The one who’d been standing in front of her car. They secured him the same as they had Standish. He, too, was eerily compliant. A few moments after, Flores and Robinson led in the man who’d stood in her doorway into the last room. He was the only one of the three who violently struggled against them, cursing and yelling.

All the Shepherd Security men then entered the room Becca sat in; her elbows pulled in tight to her sides, her hands clasped in front of herself to ward off the chill.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tessman said, seeing Becca in the room.

“I have to be, Carter,” she insisted.

He stepped in front of her and took hold of her hands. They were cold. His eyes searched hers. He saw determination in her return stare. “If it’s too much, step back out into the warehouse.”

She nodded.

Then he removed the suit jacket he wore and draped it over her shoulders. When he turned back around, he caught the knowing stares coming from the other men. They’d figured out the relationship. Jackson openly wore a smile. Oh well. It was only a matter of time before everyone knew.

“Are you still on comms, Big Bear?” Flores asked.

“Roger that,” Shepherd confirmed. “Becca, last chance,” he said. “We both know what your duty is, and that this violates it.”

Becca’s heart thudded in her chest. “My duty is to get justice, and there can be no justice without the truth. This is the only way to get the truth. I have no conflict,” she declared.

“Very well. And just a reminder of the NDA you signed. This falls under it.”

“I understand,” Becca said.

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