Malcolm smiled and gestured toward the nearest desk. “Might as well claim your spot.”
“I did.” She tilted her head toward the computer room. “That place is all mine.”
Raider flipped over a page. “So long as you follow the rules, you can stay. The second you don’t . . .”
She glared at him. “You are such an uptight jackass.”
Amusement took Mal, and he cleared his throat. “What did you find?”
Raider answered before Brigid could. “Both have priors, and their prints have been found at crime scenes, mainly burglaries, across the country. There was also an assault scene in Seattle and another in Dallas for the guy now called Eagle.”
Raider tossed the papers to Mal, who quickly read up.
Force and Wolfe crossed into the room.
“Malcolm, I’d like to have a go at Eagle first. You interrogate and I’ll observe,” Force said. “I want to see his reaction to you. To finding out you’re a cop.”
Mal nodded. It’d be nice to know if Isaac was suspicious of him.
Wolfe whistled and headed to the computer room. “Where’s Kat?”
“He’s snuggling with Roscoe on a pillow I brought in. Under the desk over to the right,” Brigid said. “He snores.”
“Does not,” Wolfe returned, disappearing into the computer room.
Mal stood and rolled back his shoulders, mentally preparing. It had been a long time since he’d interrogated somebody in an interview room. “Let’s go.” He kept the research with him and followed Angus through the small doorway.
A narrow hallway led to a cell at the far end. Two thick doors, the old wood kind, were set into the wall at even intervals. “Interesting,” Mal said.
Force shrugged. “We have what we have.” He pushed open the first door and Mal followed him inside.
A dinged-up table sat in the middle of a room with cement walls and floors. One can light had been set into the ceiling, directly above the table. Eagle sat across it, cuffed to a ring drilled into the table. His eyes widened when Malcolm walked in.
“Answers that,” Force muttered, moving to lean against the far wall.
Yeah. Definite surprise. Mal slid out one of the two folding chairs to sit. “Hi, Eagle.” He smiled. “Or should I say, Jackie Morose?”
“Eagle. That’s my name.” Eagle was in his early thirties with brown hair and eyes. His build was bulky with muscle, and he was a little twitchy. “God will punish you for this.” He smiled, his teeth yellowed. “The Prophet will get you. He sees all.”
Uh-huh. “Did he see you’d get caught tonight?” Mal asked.
“The Prophet has a plan,” Eagle said, sniffing. “We don’t have all the facts.” His eyes were bloodshot, and he couldn’t seem to sit still.
“What are you on, Eagle?” Malcolm asked.
“Nothing. Just life, man.” Eagle looked around. “Where am I, anyway? This isn’t a jail.”
Mal flipped open the file folder. “No. You’re at a dark ops site.”
“I want a lawyer,” Eagle said, his square chin jutting out.
“Too fucking bad,” Mal said mildly. “You don’t get one.”
Eagle sputtered. “I have rights, man.”
“No. You really don’t,” Force said with slight boredom in his voice, drawing attention away from Mal for a moment.
Eagle sat back, and his shoulders tensed. “You assholes are so stupid. You have no idea what you’re doing. What is happening. What needs to happen.” Spittle flew from his mouth. He shook his head almost in slow motion. “Fire and wrath are coming ... soon. Real soon. You’re gonna find out. Oh yeah, you are.”
