Nobody says anything.
I set the pliers down on the concrete between my boots.
When I stand, my knees crack.
I walk back to the wall and put my back against the cold block with my arms crossed tight, because if I don't put my hands somewhere, I don't know what they'll do.
Tor pushes off the wall.
He walks over to the chair and looks down at Travis for a long moment.
"Anything else?" His voice gives nothing away.
"No." Travis shakes his head, fast. "No, I swear, that's everything I know. Please. Please, I've got a kid. I've got a little girl."
Tor looks at him a moment longer.
Then he turns to me.
"Go on up, prospect." His voice is low. "You did good. We'll finish."
I don't move.
"Hakon." Gunnar's standing next to me now, and I didn't see him cross the room. "Come on."
Behind me, Rati bends down and picks up the ball-peen hammer.
I walk out.
The door clanks shut behind me, and the pines swallow me up, dark and wet and smelling like resin.
I'm twenty steps into the trees before I hear it.
One short, flat sound, through the cinderblock.
Then nothing.
I stop walking.
I stand in the dark with my hands hanging at my sides, and I look down at them.
There's blood under my fingernails.
His, this time.
In the smokehouse, I pulled a man's fingernail off with a pair of pliers and talked to him in the voice I use to tell Ulf his bike needs new brake pads.
My hands never shook once.
I've never done it before, and I didn't have to learn it.
It was already there.
Somewhere in me, under twenty years of holding doors and saying thank you and fading into the backs of rooms, there was a man who already knew how to do this.
My father's son.
* * *