The interrogation room was cold, sterile, and filled with the weight of decades of secrets.
Wayne sat across from Heinrich Müller, his eyes fixed on the old man's face. The banker was pale, his hands trembling, his eyes darting around the room like a cornered animal. He had been the financier behind the Cabal, the Covenant, and every organization that had risen from their ashes. But he was just a cog in a much larger machine.
"You're going to tell me everything," Wayne said, his voice flat. "Every transaction, every contact, every secret you've been hiding."
Müller licked his lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know everything. I was just the banker. I moved the money. I didn't ask questions."
"Then you're going to start asking questions. Because if you don't, I'm going to make
