His manicured hands and perfectly shined shoes just screamed out confidence. His eyes, on the other hand, said volumes about the cruelty that lurked beneath his innocuous appearance.

I kept quiet, letting things play out. Poe patted me down, starting at my legs and working his way up to my crotch.

“Easy there, Crocodile Dundee, that gun’s attached.”

The mentalist snickered in a way that made me think he was unimpressed as he went about his business. He slipped my. 45 out of the small of my back and snatched the extra ammo strap I had picked up at DRAC headquarters. Done with the search, he set my gear on Baalth’s desk and posted up beside his boss. Marcus just stood there pressing his gun to my head. He looked fit to blow a gasket, as usual. Baalth coughed and D’anatello reluctantly stepped back to the desk. He didn’t lower his gun, though.

“You said you had some information for me,”

Baalth said, getting straight to the point. I passed the folder to Poe, who handed it to Baalth. After a minute of reviewing its contents, he set it on the desk and raised his eyes to meet mine.

“What exactly do you stand to gain by giving me this?” Baalth gestured to the folder.

“Me personally? Not a damn thing.” I saw Marcus tense up, just waiting for an excuse to shoot Page 30 me. “But, as sick as it makes me to admit it, the world is better off with you than it is with Asmoday.”

Baalth smiled so wide I could count his teeth. I stopped at five. I get bored easy.

“So, what do I get out of taking on Asmoday?”

I stood there shellshocked. “What do you mean?”