I'll Talk

31.

I have time to get updates from TOM and the Hospital as we speed towards the safe house. The confiscated computer contained some interesting files, but mostly surveillance video of Team Five, indicating that they were gathering intel. When asked TOM replies in the negative about any other files that might point up the chain of command. Who are these guys working for or who hired them? And of course the bigger question, why? The Hospital reports that security has been assigned to Cap and the civilian. They also report that in cleaning Saunders’ room they found traces of dried blood on the bed frame and in the bathroom. They collected samples and await instructions authorizing lab work. I am putting the pieces of this new information together as one might work a jigsaw puzzle. I remember the swab sample and check my pocket to affirm its presence. We are passing the Hospital en route to the safe house. I give the sample to Drysdale and instruct him to deliver it and have the lab’s forensics run it along with the samples they have gathered. Also to check in with Cap, Old Floyd and Dr. Hamsten - in that order.

I drop him at the Hospital, reset the GPS for the quickest route to the safe house and power-up my com. Davis is pressing the perp fairly hard, telling him that they already have them on grand theft auto and fraud. He makes the next calculated move and asks if that is enough for one days work or if he would like to add a significant amount of emergency dental work to the list. I smile as I listen. Bad cop, using the threat of enhanced interrogation so early in the game!

“You can’t do that. I want a lawyer,” the perp whines, starting to sweat.

“Yes I can, yes I will and you don’t get a lawyer until you provide us with the information we want. Matter of fact, here is the deal: You give us the name of your handlers and you walk, no need for a lawyer …or a dentist.” Davis barks.

“I am going to give you five minutes to think it over.” I hear Davis leave the room, slam the door and walk towards the kitchen for water.

“Nice work,” I say, “you think he’ll take it?”

“I do, they’re bottom feeders, as low on the food-chain as you can get. They’ll sing, rat-out and run, hope whoever hired them never connects the dots.” Davis says. “Where are you?”

“Be there in five.”

Davis goes back into the interrogation room tapping Drysdale’s Louisville Slugger P89XL on the floor as he goes. The perp, his hands shackled to his chair behind him, has two options: Be a hero and bleed, or sing and run. He looks deep into Davis’s eyes and sees that this is no bluff, Subconsciously he licks his lips.

“Fuck you.”

Davis, instead of bashing the perp's teeth, slams the bat across the cheap wood table breaking it into several pieces. He repeats his kindling chops with loud and intimidating yells, the ‘kihap’ of the Samurai in battle. The perp is terrified at the performance grimacing with every chop. Suddenly Davis stops. He looks at the perp, smiles and once again leaves the room.

I arrive just as Davis makes his exit. Davis head points to the room where the other perp is being held. I walk in and see him shaking like a puppy dog passing peach pits.

“I’ll talk. Just keep that maniac outta here.”