“There’s a lot you haven’t seen, kiddo,” he said to her, waving her gun around then pointing it back at her. “You think it’s easy to live like this, to always be looking over your shoulder?” They were in a concrete cell. His captive, a young woman, handcuffed to a chair. “You turned your back on your country,” she spat at him.
“Don’t give me that. You’ve been with the agency a few years and you think…”
“Ten years.”
“Ten years,” he said, mocking her. “Talk to me when you’ve given 20, 30 years. Because that’s how many I gave. And they disavow me? Me?’
“You were a black ops agent. You knew what your responsibilities were, just like me.” She was brave sitting in her chair. If she could figure out the best point to show him she’d unlocked the handcuffs, it was over for him.
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