The man chuckled with dry, bitter amusement. “Let me tell you what’s going to happen, you smug shit. It doesn’t matter whether you answer me now or later. I don’t care. You and that bitch we picked you up with are going to be going on a little trip with us. We’ve got a jet coming to get you. We’re going to fly you somewhere nice and quiet, the kind of place where you can be dropped into a deep, dark hole. The kind of place where no one will know you’re there. Not your friends. Not your family. Not even your government. It will be as if you just fell off the edge of the world.” The man clicked his fingers. “It might be somewhere in Eastern Europe. The Middle East. There’s a place in Thailand that’s real nasty. We get you to a place like that and the gloves come off. No rules there, buddy. We can do whatever the fuck we like.”

“Embassy.”

“Let’s try this. The SEALs who hit that camp said they saw three mercenaries there. Two men, one woman. They said the three of them put up a fight before they retreated into the jungle. They also said that the two of them spoke with what they figured were British accents. You got an accent just like them. So—you want to tell us how you’ve been working with them?”

“I’m not working with anyone. I told—”

The hood was yanked off. Milton blinked in the sudden light, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

“There we are,” the man said. “That’s better. I can see you now.”

He was in a medium-sized room, with brick walls and a concrete floor. There was a light overhead and another shining into his face from the front. His interrogator was sitting down opposite him, his features hidden in the shadows.

“The boys said you looked like you might have been military. They’re right. You have that look about you.”

“I was,” he said. “A long time ago.”

“And now? You’re a merc?”

“No,” Milton said. “I’m not.”