Andre and Budd escorted in a smirking nineteen-year-old who Zoey thought had “trust fund punk” written all over him—he had shoulder tattoos that reached up onto his neck, but they were top-of-the-line work he’d paid thousands for. He had his hair dyed and teased oranges and yellows to look like roaring flames—probably four hours in the chair and five hundred dollars for that.
The kid was restrained by a bulky pair of black handcuffs, the pacification cuffs cops use that give you a nasty shock if you try to twist out of them, and can be activated remotely to give you a knock-out injection if you get really out of control. Budd escorted the guy into the buffalo room, while everyone else huddled in the hall and got a quick rundown of the situation from Andre.
“Guy’s name is Kevin Baughman. A bunch of Team Molech dudes followed the pursuit out of the park last night, trying to get it on Blink. This guy went on his feed and said he and his boys had picked up Molech a couple blocks from the construction site and dropped him off at his HQ. I think he’s tellin’ the truth—had video of the bloodstains in his back seat. Won’t say where they took him, says he’ll take that to his grave.”
Zoey said, “So what, do we just beat it out of him?”
Will said, “Torture is useful for when you don’t particularly care about the quality of the information you’re getting, but that’s about it. You want a false confession out of a guy, beat him up—he’ll say anything. But when everything hangs on getting the right information…” Will mulled this for a moment and said to Andre, “There’s a stack of metal munitions cases in the hall that Armando’s people left behind last night, empty one of them, and go get Arthur’s Buddha off his nightstand.”
Andre turned and jogged off to go fill this order, without a single question or so much as a raised eyebrow.
When the Suits filed into the salon, the captive was standing near the fireplace examining the buffalo head, which was still wearing its stupid Santa hat and beard. Zoey wondered, not for the first time, if in the next room over she’d find the rest of the creature’s body jutting out from the wall. Kevin’s face showed just the slightest alarm when presented with the phalanx of Suits that fanned out before him. Zoey knew the feeling—here’s the dead-eyed Will Blackwater in a suit that looked forged from cast iron, the massive Andre in a charcoal pinstripe suit with a purple shirt and a black tie, and Budd looking like he’d just returned from a tour of his plantation. Then there was Echo Ling, now in a stern black pantsuit and narrow librarian glasses, and finally Zoey, who was wearing a faded red T-shirt that said “IDAHO? YOU DA HO!” in letters barely visible behind the smelly Persian cat she was cradling.
Will said, “Have a seat, Kevin.”
Kevin sneered and said, “Why don’t you have a seat … on my funbone.”
He spat on the floor.
Andre walked over and shoved the guy down into a chair—the same chair Zoey had sat in, in fact, the first night she had arrived. So this was the interrogation chair. She noticed how low it was—Kevin was taller than her, and his knees were pointing upward. Designed so that everyone would look huge looming over you.
Will said, “I take it you know who we are.”
“You’re The Magician. He’s Black Mountain, over there is the Regulator, Echo, and Cat Boobs.”
Zoey said, “Really?”
Will said, “And we know who you are. Kevin Baughman. Molech’s second in command.”
There was a brief moment when Kevin started to refute this. Instead, he puffed up his chest and said, “I’m not telling you anything.”
Will said, “Time is short. Fortunately, this won’t take much time—Echo here knows torture techniques from the Orient that no human has endured for more than three minutes. So before I turn her loose, I’m going to ask you once, and only once. What does Molech want with the relic?”
Kevin looked nervously at Echo. Zoey could see he was torn—the easy answer in an interrogation situation is always “I don’t know,” and in this case that would be the truth, especially considering the question was total nonsense. But Kevin also really liked the idea of being treated as Molech’s top lieutenant.
He said, “Tell you what. You let me go, and I’ll tell Molech to take it easy on you.”
Will sighed, then nodded to Echo.
She strode over to the guy, and ran a finger along his collarbone, as if feeling for some sensitive nerve cluster only advanced torturers know how to manipulate.
Will said, “Last chance.”
Kevin did a disastrous job of hiding his fear, but still said nothing.
Echo pinched the man’s neck and twisted, in a way that seemed like it would hurt but didn’t seem particularly mysterious or torturous. Kevin growled and gritted his teeth.
Echo let go and Will said, “Talk! Tell me what he wants with the relic!”
Kevin screamed that Molech would wipe his ass with Zoey’s face. Echo stepped in and twisted again.
Will shouted, “Tell me!”
“Never!”
They repeated this once more, then Echo let go, hustling Will off to a corner—away from Kevin, but not too far.
In a harsh whisper that Zoey was sure Kevin could still hear, Will said, “We’re running out of time!”
Echo replied, “I’ve never seen pain tolerance like this. It’s unreal. We could do this for weeks and he’d never break.”
Will sighed, exasperated. He cursed and said, “We don’t have a choice. Give him the relic.”
Andre looked alarmed and said, “You sure?”
“Damn it, we’re out of options.”
Andre hustled out of the room. He walked back in with the case Will had sent him after—it looked like a heavy-duty suitcase, built to withstand an explosion. Will set the case on an ottoman in front of Kevin and opened it to reveal the bronze Buddha figurine they’d taken from Arthur’s nightstand.
Will said, “You win. Here’s the Buddha. I assume I don’t need to tell you not to touch it—you know how radioactive it is.”
Will closed the case. Andre removed Kevin’s handcuffs.
Echo said, “This case, of course, is temporary containment, Molech will have a vacuum unit waiting for it, but this will buy you about twenty minutes. So don’t stop for a haircut.”
Will said, “You tell Molech we gave him what he wants. Now leave us alone. And I hope you’re pleased with yourself, you sick son of a bitch.”
Kevin actually looked amazingly pleased with himself, if not a little confused. He stood, rubbed his wrist, and picked up the case.
Andre said, “Now get the hell out of here. And you tell Molech Black Mountain will see him in Hell.”
Budd had parked Kevin’s Camaro outside the front doors, and the Suits watched as it went squealing off toward the main gates. On the way out, he passed a plain sedan that turned out to be Officer Kowalski, the bald guy with accusing eyes who had scared the crap out of Zoey her first night. He pulled up and emerged carrying a leaking grocery sack.
He hurried up to the door and said, “Got your head here.”