We passed the glamorous halls of the main living areas, passed the corridors teeming with activity, and eventually arrived at a section of the palace that promised nothing but cruelty and sorrowful wails.
The underground walls of the interrogation chambers felt different. Like they were constantly closing in on you, trying to punish you for all the evil you had committed. Down here? We had all dipped our hands in blood.
Following Austin's lead, we stepped into a dimly lit room, with a single bulb hanging overhead. It was an interrogation tactic used to disorient the target. Raising a finger in response to the guards who bowed to my presence, I went straight ahead and spotted a lady bound to a metallic chair.
The lady had strands of her hair sticking to her face, courtesy of the sweat and perhaps water that had been dumped down her body. Two metal pliers were clipped to the chair, before connecting via cables to a machine that one of my men operated.
