“I have not known you to overreact,” Wolf commented, then fell silent again. “I would be inclined to listen to your instincts and wait on administering the Tenthrop. But we cannot. Capland has accessed Nantz’s laptop files. Our captive has labs full of the dead, yet not dead. And two open metal tanks we believe were holding his nanobots. We need to know where his labs are. We need to prevent the bots and infected from escaping.” A long pause, before Wolf added softly, “We will have to risk using the truth serum.”
Brickenhouse sighed but inclined his head. “I understand. I brought everything I will need if he has an adverse reaction to the Tenthrop. But perhaps we should call for Kait as well. If my gift of knowing is at work, she may be helpful.”
Aiden grimaced. He didn’t particularly want his sister to get a look at his handiwork on Nantz’s face. Nor did he want her to heal it. Nantz deserved to suffer.
The sound of boots on tile had all three of them looking down the hall. Nantz shuffled toward them, his shoulders slumped,his head bent, defeat in every stumbling step. Two of Wolf’s warriors followed him. Two preceded him.
The billionaire looked unhappy. Had he tried to escape and failed? Aiden smothered a smirk.
Wolf opened the door to the interrogation room and waited for the doctor to wheel his cart through. The guards marched Nantz in next, forced his ass into his previous chair, and attached the handcuffs to his wrists.
Nantz didn’t struggle, didn’t argue, didn’t protest his innocence as he’d done when he first arrived. No, he just sat there, his jaw and cheeks swollen with patches of purple and blue.
Wolf waited until their prisoner was sitting and cuffed before dismissing the two extra warriors. Then he addressed the remaining men in the room.
“Aiden and I will restrain him at the shoulders.” He sent a chin nod toward Tomas Beck and Theodore Stillwater, the two warriors guarding the door. “You two hold his arms—one on each side.” His gaze shifted to the doctor. “Wait until we have him immobile before injecting him.”
He didn’t wait for acknowledgements, just moved into position behind their target. Aiden joined him. Finally...finally...they were about to get their answers.
Nantz’s shoulders went rigid beneath Aiden’s hands.
“Remove his jacket and shirt,” Wolf ordered Beck, as he and Aiden forced their captive back in the chair.
His face flat, the warrior pulled a knife sheathed at his belt and sliced Nantz’s suit from wrist to shoulder.
The blade appeared to unnerve Nantz. He jolted, then trembled. When he tried to bolt up, the handcuffs, along with the hold on his shoulders, drove him back down. Another slice of Tomas’s knife and Nantz’s right shirt sleeve dropped to the ground.
Once Beck and Stillwater had Nantz’s arms immobile, Wolf looked at Brickenhouse. “Proceed.”
The doctor pulled a small, white square out of his cart and ripped the packet open. Instantly, the astringent smell of alcohol hit the air. After swabbing a patch of skin on Nantz’s bicep with the alcohol-soaked square, Brickenhouse returned to his cart and picked up a prefilled syringe.
Nantz’s neck craned to the side, his frantic gaze locked on the approaching syringe. “Stop this! Stop this right now. You have no right—” he half-yelled, half-shrieked as he squirmed beneath the hands holding him down.
It did Aiden’s heart good to witness his terror. Even though Nantz’s current dread wasn’t close to what the residents of Karaveht, or his own teammates, had felt as their lives ended.
“This is illegal. You can’t inject me without my permission.”
Wolf scoffed. “Your associate, the butcher of Karaveht, offered the same protest. Yet such illegalities stopped neither of you from slaughtering the villagers of Karaveht.”
“And my team brothers.” Aiden bared his teeth.
“You’re delusional.” Nantz squirmed harder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have the wrong guy!”
“The camera footage we found on your laptop’s hard drive, along with the recordings of your secret labs with their zombie inhabitants, prove we have the right guy.” Aiden’s voice cut through the room like a battle ax—powerful and brutal.
Nantz froze beneath their hands. Rivulets of sweat streamed down his cheeks. “What secret labs? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Aiden scoffed. “Sure, you do. But keep denying it. Doesn’t matter now. We’ll get everything we need from you soon enough.” He glanced at the doctor. “Ready when you are doc.”
The doctor slid the needle into Nantz’s bicep and depressed the plunger. Once the syringe was empty, he slid the needle out, recapped it, and set it on the top tray of the rolling cart.
As they waited for the Tenthrop to take effect, Brickenhouse unwrapped the stethoscope from around his neck and plugged the earpieces into his ears. Then he leaned over Nantz from the side and pressed the diaphragm against their captive’s chest. He listened for a few seconds and straightened.
“All good?” Wolf asked quietly.
“So far.” But Brickenhouse didn’t sound relieved.
Nantz lost consciousness shortly afterwards. The doctor strapped the blood pressure cuff around his limp bicep, inflated it, and slowly released the pressure while intently watching the attached display.
