ABSTRACT
Staggering to the door, David didn't know what hurt most—his groin, the side of his face, or the back of his head. But he did know that he was relieved to see Joaquin Acosta in the room. The irony of the situation hadn't escaped him: He was indebted to the MININT Captain, of all people, for having stopped Lieutenant Torres from roughing him up further. Now, with Joaquin in charge, he hoped the physical abuse was over for the remainder of the interrogation. That was his wish. The truth was that anything could still happen.
