Page 15 of In The Trenches (Owens Protective Services)

“Sure, you can hold it open for me.” I hauled the unconscious man over my shoulder and patted his back. “Unless that’s too much work for you.”

“Not at all. I have no problem holding doors for assholes.” I stopped and glared at him. “Relax,” he rolled his eyes. “I was talking about the fucker thrown over your shoulder.”

I had a sort of love/hate relationship with nearly everyone I worked with. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them. In fact, they were all very well trained and I had great respect for all of them. Although, I could do without Scottie Dog’s constant sarcasm.

I strode through the back door and down the steps to the basement. In this type of facility, talking with assholes like this wasn’t ideal. I had a whole idea in my head about the type of facility I would use if I ever had the money to create such a place. As I flipped on the lights at the foot of the stairs, I shoved the door open and tossed the fucker on the ground. He groaned as his head smacked against the floor.

“We should probably try to keep him alive just a little bit longer,” Scottie Dog retorted. “You know, in case you want to actually get answers out of him.”

“I’ll get answers out of him,” I said calmly. “Are you staying, or is this too difficult for you to watch?”

“I think I’ll be fine. I used to watch my sister rip the arms off her Barbie dolls. This shouldn’t be too much different.”

“Suit yourself,” I said, turning away from him. I bent over, grabbing the man off the floor and hoisting him up in the air. I couldn’t kill. Yet. I had to get answers first, and that was hard to do if he was dead. Dragging him over to the wall, I hit the button, lowering the chain with the hook attached to it.

“Cliche,” Scottie snorted. “I thought for sure you would have something better up your sleeve.”

“Why mess with the classics?” I asked. As the chain lowered to the intended height, I hit the button to stop it and pulled the dead weight of the man back to where the hook now dangled. I grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at me. Though unfocused at the moment, that wouldn’t last for long. “Don’t worry, this is going to be very painful.”

His head lolled back as I released his chin and hoisted him in the air, piercing the hook right below his collarbone. He screamed out as I shoved his body down on the piece of metal until his shoulder was resting in the curve of the hook. Taking a step back, I nodded at my handiwork.

“Not bad.”

The man’s screams died down until they were just whimpers. Stalking forward, I slapped him across the face to keep him awake. “Who sent you?”

The man didn’t answer, snot dripping down his nose as he cried in front of me. I rolled my eyes, wishing just once I could hang a man that would actually have some balls about the situation he found himself in.

“Hey, we all know you’re not the mastermind. Adams is behind this.”

“Who?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Adams, the man running this show.”

He shook his head. “His name wasn’t Adams.”

“Then what was it?” I snapped.

The man squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “You gotta take me down,” he begged. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just take me down.”

I looked down at his feet, how they dangled on the ground as he tried to relieve the pressure. A stream of blood slid down his body, dripping onto the floor. “You’ll tell me what I want to know either way. The question is, how long will you hold out before you can’t take any more?”

“Please,” he begged, spit flying from his mouth.

“Yeah, this is getting you really far,” Scottie Dog laughed from behind me.

Slowly, I turned and shot him a nasty look. I hated when people questioned my methods. “Would you like to take over?”

“I’m not falling for that again,” Scottie grinned. “The last time you let me take over, you nearly stabbed me just to get some fucking answers.”

“That’ll teach you to never intervene in an interrogation.”

The man behind me cried out again. “Let me down! Please!”

“Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make this not quite as bad as it could be.”

“I don’t know,” he begged. But his eyes widened slightly and his lips parted. Sensing he had something to tell me, I moved closer. “He’s like death.”

“Got a name?”

---