The High Commander stopped. His voice was a low, devastating baritone that left zero room for negotiation.
"Where is Arthur Pendleton?"
The Corrupt Boss trembled, his arrogant sneer completely eradicated. He looked wildly between the High Commander and the heavily armed agents. He had no idea who Arthur Pendleton was. He had assumed the orders he burned were just bureaucratic noise protecting some low-level informant.
From the darkest corner of the holding cell, the heavy sound of combat boots stepping onto the concrete floor broke the silence.
The Inmate emerged into the dim light. The grimy white tank top clung to his massive, muscular frame, and his dark eyes burned with a quiet, furious intensity. He stepped up to the steel bars, looking past the trembling Corrupt Boss directly at the High Commander.
"I'm right here," Arthur Pendleton said, his voice echoing off the mahogany walls.
The realization hit the Corrupt Boss like a physical blow. The man he had locked in a cage, the man whose release orders he had just burned for his own amusement, was the High Commander's primary asset.
The High Commander gave a microscopic nod. Two tactical agents immediately flanked the Corrupt Boss, grabbing the lapels of his expensive charcoal suit and forcing him roughly to his knees on the hard floor. His silver Zippo lighter clattered onto the concrete, useless. The Rookie Agent stepped forward, retrieving the cell keys from the desk and unlocking the heavy iron door.