14: Brice
Brice
The man who now sat opposite Brice called himself Pryden Markos, and he said he was a special adviser, brought in when ‘things simply didn’t add up’. He stressed that there was nothing to be concerned about, and that this was all routine.
He wore a suit jacket over a crisp white shirt, buttoned to the neck. There was a bulge on his right hip. His polished boots showed signs of wear. He had a narrow, suspicious face, and when he smiled it didn’t reach his eyes.
As he entered interrogation suite six his eyes glazed—sussing with his team. Brice listened in. He learnt their names, their specialities, and their roles in this operation. It was well-organised. Pryden Markos wasn’t a fool.
He leaned back in his seat, one hand resting on the table, and asked Brice to explain
