THE INTERROGATOR

The Ship

The docks were a graveyard of rusting containers and forgotten cargo. Massive cranes loomed against the night sky like skeletal giants. The air smelled of salt, oil, and decay. And somewhere in this maze of metal and shadow, Cole's daughter was waiting.

He killed the engine and coasted to a stop behind a stack of shipping containers. The car's headlights died, plunging him into darkness. He sat there for a moment, his hands still gripping the wheel, his breathing slow and controlled.

Fear was a luxury he couldn't afford. Not now. Not with Riley's life on the line.

Cole reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a compact pistol. He checked the magazine. Full. He chambered a round and tucked the weapon into his waistband. Then he opened the door and slipped out into the night.

Sector 7 was at the far end of the dock. A massive container ship loomed against the skyline, its hull painted with faded letters. The "Elena." The same name as his wife. The same name as the woman who had betrayed him.

Shaw had a sick sense of humor.

Cole moved through the shadows, his footsteps silent on the concrete. He counted three guards at the entrance to the dock. Two more patrolling the perimeter. A sixth man on the ship's gangplank.

They were expecting company. But not from the direction Cole was coming.

He circled wide, using the stacks of containers for cover. He climbed a rusted ladder to the top of a container and scanned the area from above. The ship was his target. The bridge, probably. Somewhere with a view. Somewhere Shaw could watch the city while he waited.

Cole dropped down from the container and moved toward the ship. He reached the water's edge and slipped into the shadows beneath the gangplank.

The guard on the gangplank was young. Nervous. His eyes kept darting back and forth. He was scared. Good. Scared men made mistakes.

Cole waited. The guard turned to light a cigarette. Cole moved.

He was on the guard before the man could react. One hand over the mouth. One arm around the throat. A moment of pressure, and the guard went limp. Cole lowered him to the ground and dragged him into the shadows.

Two minutes later, Cole was on the ship.

---

The "Elena" was a floating fortress. Narrow corridors. Steel walls. The sound of the engine humming through the deck. Cole moved through the ship like a ghost, his senses on high alert.

He reached the bridge and paused at the door. Through the small window, he could see three figures. Two men in suits. And a woman with gray-streaked hair.

Elena. The traitor. The woman who had sold him out.

And in the corner, bound to a chair, was Riley.

Cole's heart lurched. His daughter was alive. Unharmed, as far as he could tell. But her face was pale with fear. Her eyes were red from crying.

He had to get her out. Had to do it fast.

Cole pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The two men in suits turned, their hands going to their weapons. But Cole was faster. He shot the first man in the shoulder. The second in the leg. Both went down hard, their guns clattering across the floor.

Elena didn't move. She stood by the window, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

"Cole," she said. "I was wondering when you'd arrive."

"Let her go."

"I can't do that. Shaw would be very disappointed." Elena's voice was calm. Too calm. "You see, this isn't about you, Cole. It's never been about you. It's about what you represent."

"I don't care what I represent. Let her go. Now."

Elena smiled. It was a cold, dead smile. "You know, Shaw always said you were predictable. That's why he knew you'd come here alone. That's why he knew you'd walk right into the trap."

Cole's blood ran cold. "What trap?"

Elena gestured to the door. "The trap he's been building for five years. Ever since you started hunting him."

The door behind Cole burst open. A half-dozen men poured into the bridge, their weapons trained on him. Cole had a split second to react.

He grabbed Riley and threw himself behind a console as the first shots rang out. Bullets ricocheted off the steel walls. Glass shattered. The bridge erupted in chaos.

Cole fired back blindly, keeping the men pinned. His mind was racing. He was outnumbered. Outgunned. Trapped.

But he still had one advantage. They didn't want him dead. Not yet. They needed him alive. Otherwise, they wouldn't have bothered with all the games.

"Riley!" he shouted over the gunfire. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Dad, what's happening?"

"Stay down. Don't move."

Cole popped up and fired three shots. Two men went down. The others scattered for cover. Cole moved, dragging Riley with him, heading for the door.

But Elena was already there. She had a gun in her hand, aimed directly at Riley.

"Don't," Cole said, his voice deadly quiet.

"Don't what, Cole? Don't kill your daughter?" Elena's smile widened. "That's exactly what I'm going to do. Unless you do exactly what Shaw wants."

"Which is what?"

"Open the container. The one in the hold. It's full of C4. Enough to level the entire dock. There's a rival gang meeting here tonight. A meeting Shaw wants to end permanently."

"You want me to blow up a ship full of people?"

"I want you to stop pretending you're a good man." Elena's eyes were cold. "You've killed before. You've tortured before. You've done terrible things in the name of justice. This is no different."

Cole stared at her. His hand was still gripping Riley's arm. His mind was a storm of calculations.

If he refused, Riley died. If he agreed, he became a killer. Not just a killer—a mass murderer.

"Dad," Riley whispered. "Don't do it."

Cole looked at his daughter. Her eyes were pleading. Begging him not to become the monster Elena wanted him to be.

Cole looked back at Elena. His grip on Riley's arm tightened.

"Let her go," he said. "Let her go, and I'll do it."

Elena studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly. "Get the girl off the ship. Take her to the dock. Then come back. You have ten minutes."

Cole moved toward the door. He pushed Riley ahead of him, shielding her body with his own. The men in the room parted to let them pass.

The corridors of the ship were a blur. Cole didn't stop moving until he reached the gangplank. He pushed Riley down the ramp and onto the dock.

"Go," he said. "Run. Don't look back."

"Dad, I'm not leaving you—"

"Yes, you are. Go find Katya. She'll protect you. Now go!"

Riley hesitated. Tears streamed down her face. Then she turned and ran into the darkness.

Cole watched her go. His heart was breaking. But he didn't have time for grief. He turned and walked back onto the ship.

---

The hold of the "Elena" was a cavernous space. Rows of shipping containers lined the walls. And in the center of it all, a single container. Its door was open, revealing stacks of plastic explosives. Enough to destroy the ship and everything around it.

Elena was waiting for him. "You made the right choice, Cole."

"I didn't make a choice. I made a trade. My daughter's life for whatever you wanted."

"Semantics." Elena gestured to the container. "The detonator is inside. You have two minutes to set the timer."

Cole walked to the container and stepped inside. The explosives were packed tightly. Wires. Timers. A detonator at the center. A simple design. Effective. Deadly.

He knelt down and examined the device. His hands were steady. His breathing was calm. But inside, his mind was screaming.

He could set the timer. He could escape. He could pretend this never happened.

Or he could find another way.

Cole's eyes scanned the container. The wires were color-coded. Red. Blue. Yellow. He recognized the pattern. It was the same design he had been taught in the military. A failsafe. A redundancy. A way to disarm the device without triggering it.

Elena didn't know that. She thought he was just a clever interrogator. She didn't know about his other training. His other skills.

Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife. He began cutting wires. Carefully. Precisely. He worked quickly, his fingers moving with practiced ease.

"Two minutes, Cole," Elena called from outside. "Hurry up."

"I'm working on it."

He cut the final wire. The timer on the detonator went dead. The device was disarmed. He stood up and walked out of the container.

"Done," he said.

Elena's eyes narrowed. "That was fast."

"I work quickly."

She stepped toward the container. "Let me see—"

Cole moved. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. His other hand found her throat. He pushed her against the wall, his forearm pressed against her windpipe.

"Where is Shaw?" he growled.

Elena's face was turning red. "He's not here. He's always been a step ahead of you. He knew you'd try something like this."

"You used my daughter as bait. You betrayed my sister. You killed my wife. Tell me where he is, or I swear to God I'll—"

"You'll what, Cole? Kill me?" Elena laughed. It was a choked, desperate sound. "You're not a killer. You never were. That's why Shaw always knew he'd win."

Cole stared into her eyes. She was telling the truth. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her in cold blood.

But he could make her wish he had.

Cole released her throat. "I'm not going to kill you, Elena. I'm going to let you live. And I'm going to make sure everyone knows what you did. The betrayal. The lies. The murders. I'm going to destroy you. Piece by piece."

Elena's eyes widened with fear. "You can't prove anything."

"Watch me."

Cole walked out of the hold and onto the deck. The night air was cool against his face. He had saved his daughter. He had disarmed the bomb. But Shaw was still out there. Still watching. Still waiting.

The game wasn't over. It was just beginning.

Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. One new message. From Katya.

*Riley is safe. She's with me. But you need to know—Shaw knows you disarmed the bomb. He's sending more men. You have minutes to get off the ship.*

Cole's blood ran cold. He looked up at the night sky. The dock was quiet. Too quiet.

And then he heard it. The roar of engines. The sound of reinforcements arriving.

He turned and ran. Toward the gangplank. Toward the dock. Toward his daughter.

The game was far from over.