Sentinel - Cyndi Friberg Page 0,59

into battle while he watches from the safety of his ship,” the young male sneered. “He’s more powerful than all of us put together, yet he chooses to remain safe and watch as his forces are slaughtered.”

That sounded like an organized military, not a group of mercenaries. What the hells was Zerna up to? “Hastos is a military commander? We thought you were mercenaries.”

“Mercenaries get paid,” Edok muttered. “All we get is threats and pain.”

“So leave.” Salvo knew it was seldom that simple. He was trying to keep Edok talking.

“If I tell you about Hastos will you release me? We were only doing what he ordered us to do.”

Salvo shrugged, fighting to keep his emotions off his face. He’d expected more of a struggle, even from this foolish youth. “The final decision is up to the general, of course. But the more information you give me, the more likely he’ll be to spare your life.”

“Spare my life?” Edok gulped. “I was hoping he’d do more than that.”

“Then talk and keep talking until the information you’ve given is worth not just your life but your freedom.”

Edok swung his legs over the side of the bunk and scooted to the edge. “Hastos finds and trains Cretzians with special abilities, like me and them.” He motioned toward the other detainees.

Salvo had seen no evidence of special abilities, but it was good to know they were a possibility. “What does he train you to do?”

“Whatever he needs done. He’s ruthless and cruel. And he has no regard for those he commands. If you fail him, you’re dead. If you try to run, you’re dead. If you displease him, you’re punished in the most painful ways you can imagine. We’ve had no choice in any of this.”

Salvo lightly scanned Edok’s mind, searching for signs of deception. His emotions were riotous, but consistent with what he was saying. “If anyone who fails Hastos dies, then why are you still alive? Did he not consider leaving your weapons behind a failure?”

“We left nothing behind,” Edok insisted. “Someone planted those guns. Maybe Hastos himself.”

Salvo deepened his scan but still sensed no deception. It was either true or Edok honestly believed what he was saying. “Why would Hastos plant incriminating evidence? We didn’t even know your planet existed until I researched those weapons.”

“I don’t know,” he was starting to sound belligerent again. “Ask Hastos.”

“We know Hastos is working with a Sarronti female. How long have they been allied and do you know the purpose for their alliance?”

Edok shook his head. “I’ve seen her, but never spoken to her. She looks right through people like me.”

That sounded like Zerna. “Describe her.”

“Orange-red hair, bright orange eyes, tiny.”

Everyone was tiny to a Cretzian. “And their captive? What can you tell me about him?”

Edok looked confused. “I don’t know anything about a captive. In fact, I’ve told you everything I know about Hastos. Please, let me go.”

That was never going to happen. This Cretzian might have a baby face, but he was a cold blooded murderer. “Give me the coordinates to your planet and I’ll let the general know you’ve been very helpful.” Salvo scanned, waiting for the information to appear in Edok’s mind. It was unlikely he’d endanger his planet intentionally, but Salvo didn’t need his cooperation for this.

“If I tell you that, you’ll kill me. I’m not stupid.”

Come on. Just form the thought. “I will not harm you. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are not...” There it was. He quickly memorized the sequence and pushed to his feet.

“You’re a reader, aren’t you? I felt what you just did.” He sounded resentful and angry, but none of it mattered. This interrogation was officially over.

Pity tinged through Salvo for half a second. The fool was so damn young. Then he thought of the butchered victims in Drisky Square, of Skarlian Fesser’s widow and fatherless baby. Without a backward glance Salvo left the detention cell.

Malik was waiting for him in the outer room. “Any luck? Badass was much too jaded to be intimidated by me.”

“Baby face, whose name is Edok, told me his life story. He scanned truthful, but some of his claims made no sense. He insists that his commander or someone equally diabolical planted the weapons in Drisky Square long after his team had left.”

Malik rubbed his forehead as he puzzled through the implications. “We better have a go at the other two. See if we can find out any more and/or verify what Edok