3rd Story

“We know about the bank job,” the man said, as he took a sip of his whiskey. He put it down and went back to talking in his drone, dull voice.
“We know about the hostage situation in Illinois. We know everything you’ve done over the past two years, and if you don’t help us out, we’re going to use that information against you in court.” The guy with the drone voice smiled and poured himself another drink. He thought he had won. He was wrong.

I watched all of this from a few metres away. I barely even fit inside of the dark, dank laundry that this federal officer had decided to make use of for interrogation. There were only three of us in the room, me, the federal officer with the dull voice, and another guy who was already there when I got here. They hadn’t asked me any questions yet, just the other guy, which was odd, because I was under the impression that I’d be questioned alone. Not at the same time as some bank robber, or whatever this guy was.

Anyway, just as the federal officer let the big grin on his face take over, the guy he was interrogating spoke for the first time that I’d been here.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, in a polite voice. The officer, still smiling, replied. “We want your testimony that your boss, Robert J Dubaki, has been responsible for the robbery of at least four banks, for the deaths of twenty two men, and the destruction of seven buildings.” The officer stopped smiling, and waited, anxiously for a response.

I know this sounds strange, given that I was tied up and about to be interrogated, which means in this business means I’m either going to be put away for a long time, or I’m going to get killed by one of my boss’s boys in retribution for selling him out, but at the time, all I could think about was how bored I was. I began to wonder if this was my interrogation, watching this dull as hell conversation play out.

The man getting interrogated finally spoke again.
“Well, it seems to me, that you know a lot of shit about me, and my crimes. Which means that you must have an inside man, right? Well, if you tell me who that rat son of a bitch is, and let me have twenty two minutes alone with him, I’ll say anything you want in that testimony.” The federal agent finally realised that this guy was not going to easy. He slammed his hands on the table at which the other guy was sitting .
“That’s not how it works!” He screamed. The other man just sat their, calmly, almost smiling even.
“Sorry then, I can’t help you.” He said, just as the federal agent hit him in the face. The agent calmed himself down, and went back to smiling.
“Looks like your going to need a visit with Chops then.”

The agent went over to a door behind me, opened it and said something inside, which I couldn’t hear. He came back in, grabbed the other guy’s chair, and dragged it into the room, while the guy was still sitting on it. The door shut, and I could barely work out what anyone was saying, but I tried my best anyway.

Then I head something that was the last thing I expected to hear. It made me laugh a little, but it also made me scared too. I double-checked that I was really hearing it, and sure enough, the epic sound of the Buggles, as they sung ‘Video killed the radio star’ filled my ears.

Then a new noise began over the top of the song. It was sort of like a crack, and was immediately followed by a scream. This continued for about five minutes, before the door opened, and the guy was taken back into the room I was in. He was bloody all over, and he had his arms at an odd position. I tried to figure out what happened to him. But before I could, the federal officer walked over to me, and was standing in front of my view of the beaten up criminal.

“You, ass face! You want to make a deal, or you wanna be a tough guys like this faggot over here?” He practically screamed into my face. He ran over to other guys, grabbed his ear and twisted. The guy screamed really loudly, making me wonder what they had done to him prior to this. The federal officer continued on his rant.
“Not so tough now, are you!” He walked back over to me. “Now the question you’ve got to ask yourself is, do you want to be a tough guy, and get almost every bone in my body broken, or do you want to tell me who put you up the your crimes, and get about two years in prison?” He paused. “I’ll give you a little time to think about it.”

He left the room, through a different door this time, and now it was just me and the other criminal. I didn’t wait two seconds to ask him what had happened. He turned to me, and through tears, explained how a guy pulled out bits of paper from a hat, like a raffle. He told me how every bit of paper had a bone written on it, and every one that was pulled out got snapped in his body. He couldn’t hold it together any longer, and started blubbering like a babt.

I sort of just sat there, not knowing what to say. Turns out I didn’t have to; he turned to me and asked me a question.
“Are you going to tell them who you work for?” He asked through a whispery voice. I truly didn’t know yet. I replied to him.
“Well that’s a tricky question. I mean Tom Hawk is a powerful guy, if I sell him out…” I didn’t even get to finish the sentence, as the other man sat up and yelled into the other room.
“Bob Hawke!” He yelled. Then he started to laugh. I just sat there, not having any clue what was going on. Then the federal officer came back in, laughing. He untied the other man, and he stood up.

It was then that I realised that he was perfectly fine; he didn’t have any broken bones. The two men hugged, and looked at me, as if I was a worthless douche. And in a way, I was, I had fallen for their trick, and now Tom Hawke was going to do what ever it took to have me dead. I began to cry. It was over.