Jim closed the door to the interrogation room behind us. I blew across the top of my bloody knuckles, savoring the sting.

“That could of gone better.” Jim said giving me a direct look.

I shrugged. “He pissed me off.”

“Everything pisses you off.”

“I don’t see your point.”

He exhaled. “Well now we have to wait for him to wake up.”

“Don’t get pissy with me, mate. My job is to hit him and I did it well.”

“Your job- both of our jobs- is to get him to talk.”

“He will.” I said confidently. I could get anyone to talk with the proper application of pain.

“If he doesn’t?”

“Then I kill him trying.”

“Well that seems like the worst case scenario.” I knew Jim was talking to himself but I answered him anyway.

“No the worst case scenario involves sawing off his hands and feeding ’em to him.”

Jim started to say something but thought better of it.

I took advantage of his silence to educate him. “Even that wouldn’t be the worst case scenario. I could always use fire to-”

Jim’s face twisted in disgust. “Enough!”