Chapter 13 - The Ghost from the Past
The interrogation room was a stark, windowless concrete bunker located on the far edge of the compound.
Frank was strapped tightly to a heavy steel chair, his face a horrific canvas of purple bruises and severe burns from the mansion explosion.
He breathed heavily through a shattered nose, coughing up blood onto his ruined, expensive suit.
Emily stood perfectly still in the dark corner of the room, her hand resting dangerously close to her suppressed sidearm.
Michael paced like a caged tiger in front of his former best friend, his fists clenched in pure fury.
"You sold me out to Viktor, Frank, you tried to murder my son!" Michael roared, slamming his fists onto the metal table.
Frank laughed weakly, spitting a glob of bloody saliva onto the cold concrete floor.
"Viktor was just the middleman, Michael, you are too blind to see the real game," Frank wheezed, his good eye darting toward the dark corner.
"The order to kill you didn't come from Russia, it came from inside your own walls."
Michael stopped pacing and frowned, completely failing to understand the traitor's cryptic words.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Michael demanded, leaning dangerously close to Frank's battered face.
"Ask your precious savior," Frank sneered, nodding his chin directly toward Emily.
"I saw the tactical gear she was carrying before the explosion, Michael, she isn't a maid, she is a professional hitman."
Emily felt the icy grip of panic tightening around her throat, but she kept her expression completely blank.
"He is desperate, Michael, he is trying to turn us against each other to save his own life," Emily said calmly.
Michael looked back and forth between his oldest friend and the woman who had just saved his child.
The tension in the concrete room was thick enough to cut with a combat knife.
"She knew exactly how to neutralize a rare synthetic neurotoxin, Michael, think about it!" Frank screamed desperately.
"She works for Vanguard, and she is going to put a bullet in your head the second you turn your back!"
Michael slowly stood up straight, a dark, terrifying shadow crossing his handsome features.
He slowly drew his heavy sidearm from his shoulder holster and held it loosely by his side.
"You have been lying to me for twenty years, Frank," Michael said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"Why should I believe a single word coming out of your treacherous mouth?"
Michael turned to Emily and held out the loaded weapon toward her.
"Execute him," Michael commanded without a shred of hesitation.
Emily stepped out of the shadows, her heart hammering violently against her ribs as she stared at the gun in Michael's hand.
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If she hesitated, Michael would know Frank was telling the truth.
But if she pulled the trigger, she would be crossing a point of absolute no return.
