Raskin looked doubtful. “How would you even get close enough to stab it?”

“It depends. Sometimes I kill a few large wildebeest first, cut out some of the entrails, and hide inside the pile of carcasses.”

“Like with the tauntaun in The Empire Strikes Back?”

“What is a tom tom?”

Raskin rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a savage.”

“Oh, you have no idea how savage I can be,” Kruger said. “With the trap set, I wait for my prey. Even from inside the pile of carcasses I can hear the lion approaching. Their breathing is so powerful, so menacing. You can feel it vibrate your chest with each of his exhalations. If you didn’t know better, you would think he was a much larger beast. Or something mythical. Like a dragon. But I know my prey well. I let him take a bite, and if things work out perfectly, I stab him through the eye, killing him instantly.”

“I’m surprised you don’t consider an ambush like that to be cheating.”

“There are no rules in survival.”

“What if things don’t work out perfectly?”

“If he sees through the ruse or I’m not quick enough or one of a thousand other things go wrong, then we engage in mortal combat, a fight to the death, one apex predator against another.”

Raskin laughed. “If he’s such a warrior, then how do you possibly beat a lion?”

In a flash of movement, Kruger slashed the knife in front of Raskin’s face, removing a large patch of red hair from the left side of her head.

“Because I’m even more of an expert with my claws,” he said. “A lion is the king of beasts. His only competition for prey comes from a pack of scavenging hyenas. And even in numbers, they’re no match for the lion.”

Raskin’s lip quivered with rage, as her hand reached up to the fresh bald spot on her head. “Is there a point to this story?”

“Yes, doctor. You see, I’m the king of beasts in this food chain, and you’re just a hyena, an opportunistic scavenger. Trust me, Doc, you don’t want me to get my claws into you.”

Her lip curled into a cocky sneer. “If you’re the king, why are you running away?”

“Even a lion knows when to retreat, especially when that’s better for the pride as a whole,” he said.

“That’s all very fascinating, but from here on out, keep your knife in your pants or I’ll—”

With two flicks of his wrist, Kruger cut gashes into both sides of Raskin’s neck. Not too deep, but enough to cause pain and spill her rancid blood.

“I need the knowledge in your head, but that leaves many other body parts I could cut off without compromising the mission,” he said.

Raskin held her hands to the sides of her neck, trying to stop the flow of blood. For the first time since the discussion began, Kruger saw fear in her eyes.

“You don’t have the time to torture cooperation out of me,” she said.