Sitting behind the mahogany table in the interrogation room was Damien who was drumming his fingers against the wood as he racked his brain, hoping to come up with a picture of the orchestrator of the attack.
Recently, he had no beef whatsoever with anyone, this made his thinking more tedious and when he couldn't handle it anymore, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey on his table and then began to drink directly from it.
“Sir.” Armani called when he arrived with the limping man.
Raising his head up, he received the flashdrive Armani was pushing towards him and immediately, he connected the device to his laptop.
“Brady Monty, twenty five year old, single, america native… who employed you?” He asked, raising his face from the screen of his laptop.
“No one did.” He replied immediately,
