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Section Leader Gilmore watched the clear liquid drain from the syringe and into the girl’s limp arm. She whimpered softly but otherwise didn’t move. The girl raised her head dully, exposing the dried, crusted blood covering her soft features. Her curious resemblance to Rachel’s protege was startling but he brushed it off.
“Ian. What are you doing…”
Gilmore stood, resolutely unaffected by the girl’s delusion of knowing him. She was a traitor who would be interrogated accordingly, as the Professor informed him. His determination to impress Rachel made him feel like a schoolboy again. He would ask her to drinks again tonight, and he if he did well, maybe she wouldn’t curtly turn him down again.
“Ian…stop…”
The girl moaned again. This improved truth serum should help loosen her tongue, and even if she had training against it, very few stayed strong after they lost a finger or two.