Dalton’s shout distorted the tiny speaker. “You sick son of a bitch! What the hell are you doing to her?”

Montez approached the laptop’s Webcam, presented the stun gun, then plunged it into an open cut on Nichole’s torso. Her scream drowned out the electrical crackle. She whipped her head back and forth in agony.

“Stop! Okay. Okay. You’re asking the questions.”

“Your momentary lapse in concentration is understandable, given what you’re seeing. But after your next outburst, it will be much worse. I hope you can appreciate the seriousness of her situation?”

“Please don’t hurt her again.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“I have my suspicions.”

“Please, do share.”

“Colonel Montez de Oca.”

“Retired.”

No response. In the background, Nichole Dalton cried.

“Were you aware there was going to be an attempt on my life?”

No answer.

He gave the woman another jolt. She screamed louder.

“Wait! Okay. Yes, I knew.”

“You see? We can have an honest conversation. All it takes is the proper motivation on your part.”

Montez unfolded a white sheet and draped it over the woman. Red splotches began forming above the cuts on her torso.

“My colleagues have expressed interest in coming in here and meeting your ex-wife. I haven’t allowed them to. Yet.” He held a box of condoms up to the camera. “I have a week’s supply for all six of my men. I trust that such a prolonged interaction won’t become necessary?”

“No, it absolutely won’t.”

“I have no interest in you, Mr. Dalton, or your ex-wife. My sights are… let’s just say they’re above your pay grade.” He held two small photographs up to the Webcam. “I’m sure it’s difficult to see the mother of your daughters in such a horrible situation.”

“Please, leave them out of this. They’re only children.”

“That depends entirely on you, Mr. Dalton. My men have also expressed interest in meeting them as well.” He turned to his left and snapped a finger. Arturo, his right-hand man, dragged two chairs from the shadows and placed them next to the table. Two more men, each with a blindfolded and gagged young girl, hauled them into the chairs and held them in place by their shoulders. Both were crying and shuddering with fear.

“Please, I’m begging you. Leave them out of this.”

“I see no reason to indulge my men as long as you cooperate.”

Nichole managed to stop crying long enough to say, “I’m here, babies. Mommy’s here.”

He snapped his finger again and Arturo covered her mouth with duct tape and blindfolded her.

“Please don’t hurt them. I’ll do what ever you want.”

“I’m prepared to give Nichole an injection of morphine. Would you like me to do that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not without compassion, Mr. Dalton.” He stabbed a needle into a patch of  undamaged skin and depressed the plunger.