Ivan pulls the door open, and we step into the cell. The three prisoners are all wearing only a pair of linen shorts. They appear to be cold and starving. “Do you feed them?” I ask Ivan.
“The bare minimum,” The delta responds.
“Good,” I stare at the men. “So, are you three going to cooperate with us?” I ask them.
One spats at me, “We ain't telling you s**t, whore.”
Ivan slaps him hard across the face, “You will not speak to our Luna like that, scumbag.”
I have to refrain from smiling at Ivan, “I would like to speak with that one first,” I point.
“I’ll take you to the interrogation room,” Garth touches my shoulder. He leads me out of the cell and down a long hallway. We enter a cold room made mostly of metal. There is a single metal chair in the center of the room.
I bite my lip ne
