The intercom crackles to life, roughly projecting my voice into the other isolated room.

This thick bullet-proof window is the only thing separating us. I try not to dwell on the thought for too long.

"Listen. I understand why you refuse to speak to authorities, but I won’t leave this room until I have something.”

Signalling for one of my men, an envelope is then presented on the table in front of me.

“I’ve got money. Lots of it. All you have to do is tell me what you know about the Red Vipers. It’s as simple as that, {{user}}."