Page 83 of Steel Vengeance

Jeremy stiffened as he went into defensive mode.

“That’s not gonna work, Jeremy.” Stitch looked him in the eye. “Either you talk, or we hand you over to the Pakistani police.”

Fear crept into his eyes, but he tried to brazen it out. “For what?”

“Attempted murder, for starters. You did walk in here with a gun,” Stitch said, calm but deadly.

Jeremy scoffed. “That won’t hold.”

“Wanna bet?” Stitch nodded at Blade. Blade aimed the Beretta and fired two quick shots into the mattress. The sound was barely louder than a cough, but the impact made Jeremy jump.

“Jesus! What the fuck are you doing?”

“Staging a crime scene,” Stitch said.

Jeremy glared at him, but he was trapped. There was no way out of this.

“What were you saying about the money?” Stitch probed, as if Blade hadn’t just fired a weapon.

Jeremy hesitated, then let out a deep breath. “I want a deal.”

“Maybe,” Stitch said coolly. “Depends on what you’ve got.”

Jeremy shook his head. “No, I want a deal first. Then I’ll talk.”

Stitch raised an eyebrow, almost impressed. “Alright, here’s the deal—you talk, you walk. You don’t, and I call hotel security.”

“How do I know you’ll stick to your end of the deal?”

Stitch gestured to the gun in his hand. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Another sigh. Jeremy’s shoulders slumped.

They had him.

Jeremy took a deep breath and began to talk.

“During the Afghan war, the CIA sent in a security team to crack down on poppy production. Our job was supposed to be replacing it with wheat and other crops, try to get the economy back on track.” Jeremy glanced up. “But it was all bullshit. A joke. Nobody wanted to grow wheat—the margins were too small. So, we just ended up monitoring the poppy fields instead.”

Stitch gave a nod. “Go on.”

“Our unit was called Ghost Company. It was made up of soldiers, mercs, and private contractors. We were based in Helmand Province. Over time, we built up contacts—production, distribution, you name it. We helped streamline their network.”

“In exchange for a cut,” Stitch finished for him.

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. We started making real money—better than any army paycheck. When the war ended, the official team got pulled out, but we kept things going on our own.”

“And Matthew Sullivan heads up Ghost Company?” Stitch asked, his tone sharp, making sure it was clear for the recording.

“Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed. “He led the original team. When it was over, he went back to D.C. to run it from there. The rest of us stayed in Helmand.”

Stitch’s voice dropped, more intense. “Whose call was it to hit the village in the Anjuman Pass?”

Jeremy frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Stitch growled, stepping forward until the gun was pressed to Jeremy’s temple. “Iknowit was your guys who wiped that place out. I want to know who gave the order.” His voice was barely a whisper, but every word carried a deadly weight.

“I told you?—”