Barnes shrugged. “He doesn’t need to be concerned with details.”

“You created the PLF,” Holtzmann said. “Does he know that? That you run them? The people who shot at him? Who killed men and women he knew?”

Barnes’ jaw tightened. “Swallow the pill, Martin.”

“Non-lethal missions,” Holtzmann said. “I read the file. What happened three months ago? What happened in Chicago?”

A muscle twitched in Barnes’ jaw. He leaned forward, used one monolayered finger to push the pill towards Holtzmann.

“You’ve lost control, haven’t you?” Holtzmann asked. “The fiction you’ve created has become real. Your pet terrorist group is biting at your hand now, isn’t it?”

Barnes stared at him, coldly, then leaned in close. “Take that fucking pill, Martin, or I’m going to shove it down your throat.”

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Holtzmann pushed back in his chair, his hand on his cane, propelled himself up and back, back, until he touched the window. He could feel the rain drumming against it, a high-pressure barrage of fat water droplets shaking the glass.

Holtzmann closed his eyes to see the bandwidth. It was up a notch higher here. Signal strength was just the tiniest bit better.

He opened his eyes and Barnes was standing in front of him, half a head taller. His hand was up before him, the green pill pinched between thumb and forefinger.

Holtzmann scooted to the side, away from Barnes, away from his death, towards the corner. Barnes followed him, grimly, the taller man’s eyes drilling into Holtzmann’s. Holtzmann closed his eyes in fear, not brave any more, not wanting this, not wanting to see his own death coming.

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Holtzmann’s eyes flew open.

Yes. Yes.

Barnes reached out for him and Holtzmann retreated further, into the corner, shuffling fast.

Barnes followed him and Holtzmann swung his cane at the man – swung it at his head!

Barnes snatched the cane in midair with his left hand, an annoyed look on his face. Then he yanked it out of Holtzmann’s hand, flung it across the room.

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“Is this how you killed Warren Becker?” Holtzmann demanded. “Is it?”

“Becker did what he was told,” Barnes replied. Then his left hand reached out, closed around Holtzmann’s jaw, and clenched, prying it open.

Holtzmann cried out, struggled, kicked at Barnes, beat at Barnes’ head with his hands. The man was so strong!

Then Barnes brought his other hand around, grabbed hold of Holtzmann’s upper jaw, and pulled his mouth open.

Holtzmann felt bitter powder land on his tongue as Barnes crushed the pill with his fingers. He tried to spit the powder out, but by then his mouth was shut, clamped shut by Barnes’ impossibly strong hands.

No! He struggled, refused to swallow. He got his hands on Barnes’ forearm, tried to pry the man off of him, strained with all his might.