The prisoner reached for the towel but hesitated, glancing at Reid, who nodded. "He said Caisse-Etremont was dangerous," he said, picking up the towel. "That the weapon we were taking was too powerful. That it couldn't be trusted in his hands." His voice dropped. "He said we'd be protecting people."
Beside me, Maxime let out a small snort. The sound went straight to my cock.
"And you believed him?" Reid asked.
"Honestly?" The prisoner shrugged and stared at the table. “I figured as long as nobody got hurt… and I needed the money. After I got back, my wife… Well, ex-wife now.”
“Let me guess. She cheated on you?” Reid huffed. “Typical.”
“Yeah, but you don’t understand. It’s not about the alimony. It’s about my daughter. Emma.” The prisoner lifted his cigarette with trembling fingers, staring at nothing. “My ex is with this drunk fuck. He puts his hands on her, and on my baby girl. Judge says if I want custody, I’ve got to show a stable income, but it’s like you said. Nobody wants to hire me. They all want zit-faced kids with MIT degrees.”
“Fuck that,” Reid said. He played the blue-collar act well enough I almost bought it myself, despite knowing he’d earned his wings at ETAP, an elite French airborne school.
"Yeah." The prisoner took a drag. "So when the money was offered, I figured... why not? As long as nobody got hurt."
"And then someone showed you pictures of your daughter."
The prisoner's hands clenched around the cigarette. "Yeah."
"What's her name?"
"Emma. She's eight."
Behind me, Maxime had gone still. I could feel the heat of him, close enough that if I moved back even an inch, we'd be touching.
I didn't move.
Reid leaned forward. "Who showed you the pictures?"
The prisoner stared at his cigarette and said nothing.
"Come on," Reid said, voice gentle. "You're already in this deep. Give me a name."
"I don't know his name."
"Bullshit. You took a job worth two hundred thousand and didn't ask questions?"
"I asked. They didn't answer." The prisoner met Reid's eyes. "Look, I just did what I was told. Showed up where they said, took what they pointed at, left. That's it."
"Who hired you?"
"I don't know."
"Who gave you the floor plans?"
"They were emailed. Encrypted."
"Where were you supposed to deliver the prototype?"
"I don't know. That wasn't my job."
Reid's jaw tightened. He was losing him.
"Where's the rest of your team?"
"Scattered. We split up after the breach."
"Where?"
