After a sufficient amount of time had passed, Kruger flipped on a lamp beside the bed. When that didn’t rouse his slumbering target, he slapped Fred across the face.

The man opened his eyes, breathing heavy and trying to clear the haze of sleep. Fred tried to move but found himself paralyzed.

“Don’t struggle, my friend,” Kruger said. “I’ve injected you with a paralytic that still allows you to feel pain. The downside is that it will also relax the muscles that allow you to breathe. If you struggle too much or exert yourself, you’ll die from asphyxiation.”

Probably still groggy from sleep and hoping this was all a dream, Fred said, “What do you want? Take whatever you need.”

“I was going to do that anyway, but it’s very polite of you to offer consent.”

“What’s this about?”

“I need some information.”

“Information about what? I don’t know anything important.”

“Make no mistake, my friend. I know exactly who you are, what you do, and who you work for. I need your access code, Mr. Little.”

“What? I don’t—”

“All you need to understand in this moment is that I have all the power, and you have none. The drug I have given you will last long enough for me to inflict all manner of pain upon your body. You will not even be able to move or resist, and the more you fight, the greater the odds of suffocation. You can save us both from such unpleasantness. Give me the code.”

“My code wouldn’t let you into any of the vaults or boxes. Even if you could …”

“Shhh. I don’t need you to tell me reasons why I can’t do something. I’ve learned one lesson over and over again throughout my life: the only thing stopping any of us from doing and having what we want is fear. And if you’re not afraid, then anything is possible. You see, Mr. Little, there is much in this world that still frightens me. There are monsters much worse than me out there. However, I am likely the most frightening man you’ve ever met. You possess what I require, and I fully intend to employ every method of torture necessary to extract all that I need from you. And trust me, I am well-versed in such things.”

Kruger laid a massive left hand on Fred’s chest, felt the shallow breathing, the increased pulse, the man’s lungs struggling for air.

“You win. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just please …”

Tears rolled down Fred’s cheeks. Kruger fought the urge to wipe them away. He felt pity on this man, this innocent man who had done nothing more than stand in his way. He had never before felt such emotions toward a target. What was happening to him? He felt anxiety and panic rise in his own chest, flashes of the squatter camp flashing into his mind. Pushing them away, he reminded himself that he was Kruger. The lion took no pity on the gazelle.