Chapter 8: The Cosca Connection
"We're only going to ask you once more: where is the money you stole?" Hilshire questioned the prisoner captured from the previous day's mission. The man in question had stayed unconscious throughout the rest of yesterday, so his interrogation had been put off until the next afternoon. In the meantime, Chief Lorenzo had a stern and hardly controlled reprimanding especially for Triela and her handler. The Alvise Twins, however, were left out of the talk, since the Chief perceived what had happened to be caused more by the mistakes of the mentor than the recklessness of the mentees. The assailed Fratello immediately gave up trying to convince him that the latter was the truth, rather than the former.
Presently, however, Triela stood in the corner of a dreary and bare concrete interrogation room with her arms crossed, staring at the stoic, tight-lipped, middle-aged detainee sitting at the cold, rectangular steel table bolted to the floor in the center of the room. She had remained perfectly still in her corner for an entire hour, observing the man dourly as he was asked the same question repeatedly, each time stubbornly refusing to give an answer.
"Well, in that case, I'll only say this once more," the prisoner replied mockingly to Hilshire's dark warning, "You won't be getting anything from me."
"Believe me you'll want us to be the ones that you confess to. Otherwise we'll have to get someone in here who is much more convincing than we are," this was Hilshire's final warning, made evident by the way he stood and adjusted his navy blue silk tie and nodded to his cyborg, who in response walked to the door and prepared to open it.
"Hmm, since you put it that way," the prisoner responded toughly, "Piss off."
"Aw, that's too bad," Triela said facetiously as she twisted the doorknob in her tight, leather-gloved fist, letting Hilshire out of the room, "That means our time together is up. You'll be spending the rest of your time here with our 'specialists.'"
The prisoner scoffed as he watched Triela and Hilshire leave the room, replaced instantly by a tall, serious-faced blond man and a small, blank-faced girl with short fair hair and empty, deep-blue eyes. "Oh, very scary," he laughed, "I'm absolutely shaking!"
Ignoring the sweet irony soon to be formed from that final statement, the exiting Fratello immediately made their way into an adjacent observation room wherein they posted themselves in front of a one-way mirror next to Caterina and Celestina, both of whom had been watching the entire time and currently looked bored out of their minds. "What kind of interrogation was that?" Caterina asked insultingly.
"I thought we were supposed to learn something from this," Celestina kept on the harsh criticisms of her teacher.
"Just watch," Triela told them expectantly, "I bet Rico could tear out your deepest, darkest secrets in a matter of minutes using only a stapler."
The following eight minutes and fifty seconds consisted of one of the most disturbing things the Alvise Twins would ever see. Despite the brutality and ferocity with which the detainee was being beaten, it was the person giving the beating that caused the Twins' stomachs to turn. Each time Rico punched, kicked, elbowed, kneed, and hammered, she did so with cold detachment and complete disregard for the prisoner's safety and loss of blood. Somehow, she kept her victim conscious the entire time; only striking him on the head to break his nose, or knock out a tooth. Worst of all, however, Rico didn't seem to change her expression, or even blink once during the entire ordeal, even when her face and clothes were splashed with the prisoner's blood.
At irregular intervals, Jean would stop his cyborg, who held the crying detainee by his hair (for he no longer had the strength to hold his own head up), in order to ask him plainly, "Where's the money?" When he was refused an answer, Jean gave Rico a little nod and the beating was continued.
After eight minutes and fifty seconds, the detainee "caved." He panted and cried, almost incomprehensibly, "Okay, I'll – I'll tell you, just… just get her away from me." Another nod from Jean and Rico released her grip from the prisoner's hair, and thus he commenced his confession. "The money was sent to the Casinò Regio to be laundered… but the owner's been sitting on it for days now."
"This casino is a Padania front then?" Jean asked.
The prisoner nodded tiredly, but was now sounding much clearer and collected than before. "Yes, the entire security force there supports the Republican Faction, and all of their equipment is provided by them, so they are very heavily armed."
"The RF has enough money as it is," Jean continued his interrogation, "So why did they pull off that robbery?"
"Of course the Faction can fund all of its pursuits without the need for jobs like that. The armored car robbery was just an initiation for some new recruits. Most of the people that had a hand in it are putting in temporary work in the casino now until they can be given proper missions."
There was a pause as Jean digested the information in his head. Finally, he said dismissively, "Alright, we're done here. Good job, Rico," he and his cyborg, blood-spattered, but now smiling and happy from the praise, made for the door. Before he left, Jean turned to the tinted observation window and said commandingly, "Somebody get this mess to his cell so he can clean himself up."
"What did we just watch?!" Celestina almost whispered, inexplicably afraid that if she spoke any louder Rico would be sicked on her.
Triela laughed, "Is this the first time you've seen Rico in action?" When the Twins nodded, she explained, "She's one of our most efficient girls. Jean's given her very heavy conditioning and harsh training in order to produce absolute loyalty and obedience. It's a good thing she doesn't have a bad side to get on. She's really a very sweet girl as long as she's not under orders to kill anyone."
"Triela, would you mind taking the prisoner to his cell?" Hilshire cut his cyborg's conversation short, "He's going to need to see a doctor soon."
"These are new gloves," Triela protested, holding her hands up for her handler to see, "I'm not going to get them covered with blood…yet."
"Well in that case…" both Triela and Hilshire turned their heads slyly and looked at Caterina and Celestina.
The Twins rolled their eyes. "Of course," they said together without a hint of enthusiasm. Without another word they left the observation room and entered the interrogation room wherein the battered, bloody prisoner sat with his head bowed, his shirt sticky and stained crimson."
"How about I untie him and you drag him to his room?" Celestina offered.
"Lasci perdere!" Caterina responded indignantly, "Forget it! I will untie him."
"Hmm…?" the prisoner mumbled quietly and vaguely at the sound of the voices. They seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. He listened more intently.
"Caterina, Celestina," Triela's voice came through a speaker next to the observation window, "Why don't both of you roll up your sleeves and carry the poor man? Oh, you don't have sleeves…never mind then."
As soon as the two names were uttered, the prisoner was dumbstruck. His breathing accelerated and he began perspiring again (he had stopped soon after Jean and Rico left the room). He struggled to raise his head, not out of fatigue, but because a part of him didn't want to see who was in the room with him. When his eyes fell upon the twins, both of whom were still arguing over who should get their hands dirty, he let out a frightened scream, showing more terror than he had felt even when Rico was beating him.
"Gesù, you're awake?" Caterina said in annoyed incredulity, snapping her attention to the man.
"Stop screaming and go back to sleep," Celestina ordered the prisoner.
"Am I… seeing ghosts?" he asked shakily, more to himself than anyone else, "I could swear you're right here in the room with me."
"That's because we are, pazzo," Caterina replied. Both girls advanced toward the detainee preparing to untie him and lead him to his cell.
"No!" the man screamed, "Get away from me!"
"Something's wrong," Triela said, sounding concerned. She looked at Hilshire, but his jaw was set and his brow furrowed in thought, waiting to see what was going to happen next.
The prisoner kicked his feet at the floor, futilely trying to scurry back in the bolted-down chair. He kicked at the bolted-down table, trying to send it flying at the still advancing Twins.
"You really like to make things difficult for people, don't you?" Celestina asked with her hands held up, preparing to block a kick.
"We could shoot you, if that's what you want," Caterina suggested.
"No!" Triela protested through the speaker, "No shooting. Hit him if you need to, just don't shoot him."
"You have to believe me," the prisoner sounded as if he was begging for his life, "Everything that happened was Lino's idea. I only went along because if I hadn't he would have killed me. You understand, don't you?"
"No," both twins responded, completely unaffected by the begging. They dismissed them as the ramblings of a man beaten to madness and believed them to be entirely unrelated to them.
"Lino…" Triela mused, "I…think I've heard that name before… but where?"
Hilshire, however, remained silent, even as he drew a pistol from underneath his jacket and left the room.
"Please," the prisoner was on the verge of tears now, "It was all Lino's fault! He-he thought joining the Republican Faction after what happened at your estate would give him power and protection. He planned the robbery. You'll find him at the casino. You can have your revenge, now please, spare me. We were wrong. Wrong to betray your fath-" He was interrupted as three gunshots exploded in the room and three rounds rocked and shook his frame. The detainee's eyes rolled up and his mouth hung open at an angle as his head tilted sideways to rest on his shoulder. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and from his broken nose down his cheek, both streams converging into one on his chin.
Instinctively, both Twins turned, simultaneously reaching for their weapons (despite still not having holsters), but stopped at the sight of Hilshire standing at the door with the barrel of his weapon still smoking and pointed at the prisoner. He lowered his gun and looked at the Twins sternly. "Go to your room," he commanded them as he walked to the prisoner and removed the now useless restraints, "And don't speak a word of this to anyone. If you're asked what happened, say the prisoner tried to break free and attack you. Triela will speak with you later."
The Twins, more confused and dazed than frightened at Hilshire's firmness, obeyed at once. They left the interrogation room and made their ways wordlessly to the dorms. What do you think that was about? Caterina asked.
We'll find out soon, Celestina replied, Hopefully.
Triela joined Hilshire in the bloody interrogation room. She watched quietly as he placed the untied PlastiCuffs in both of the dead body's hands. "He struck Caterina aside in an adrenalin-filled rage," Hilshire said as if deducing what had happened at a crime scene, "And attempted to wrap his restraints around Celestina's neck. Understand?"
Triela was hesitant to respond. She was scared. Scared that Hilshire would blame her for not recognizing what was going on. Scared that he would tell her that she should have been the one to step in and take action, like she would have in years past. Eventually, she managed to say, "Well, it's not the most airtight story…but since there aren't any security cameras here, the Chief will just have to take your word for it."
Hilshire didn't say anything. He stood up and stepped back, observing the setup, trying to imagine what it would have looked like if the scene he invented had played out into the current outcome: with the prisoner's hands in his lap, grasping the PlastiCuffs violently. "He would have had to do all of that sitting down," Hilshire said doubtfully.
"What should I tell the Twins later?"
"The truth. We can't lie to them at this point; tell them that I shot a defenseless man who was rambling on and on about things that didn't have anything to do with them. No, they need to know now. Explain why I did what I did, what will happen to them if the Agency finds out what they heard, and most importantly who the prisoner was talking to them about."
"Yeah," Triela said forlornly, "I remember now who it was." She turned and made for the exit.
"And Triela," Hilshire stopped her. She turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised, eyes sad, "There's no need to blame yourself."
Triela turned again and left the room. He really knows me too well, she thought to herself. However, she didn't feel any better about what had happened.