Read Online Agent Hill: Powerless by James Hunt - Free Book Online Page A

features on the person’s face, but he could feel something on the side of his own, picking away at his skin. His head jerked slightly from the pressure on his cheek. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, letting hands and whatever pieces of metal that were attached to them touch him, but after they were done, they flipped him over, addressing the wounds on his back, arms, and legs. They showered him and put him in a fresh set of clothes. All the while, he lay motionless, letting the foreign bodies and hands puppeteer him into whatever position they wanted. They moved him, and he obeyed without objection.
    Finally, after they were finished, they put a mirror in front of him, and he was able to get a look at himself for the first time in he didn’t know how long. Stitches lined the left side of his cheek and his forehead. His arm was wrapped and bandaged, and his left eye was bruised but no longer swollen. For a moment, Ben didn’t recognize his face, recoiling from the image shown. Then, slowly, he leaned in closer, bringing his hand to the bandaged cuts on his face and neck. After he was done, he took a moment to examine his surroundings.
    It was similar to the torture chamber in which he was beaten and not allowed to see his children. A chill ran up his spine, the Pavlovian response triggered in anticipation of the potential for pain. When the door opened, Ben turned his head away.
    “Mr. Hill, I hope you’re feeling better.”
    Ben slowly turned to face the voice, opening his eyes at the same time. His memory was blurred, but he knew the man standing in front of him at that moment wasn’t the same man from before. He was much shorter. He walked to Ben slowly and extended his hand, which Ben did not take.
    “I can understand your hesitation, Mr. Hill.”
    Ben attempted to move his lips, but no sound would come from them. The man reached for a bottle of water and extended it to Ben, who let it linger in midair between them, watching the condensation from the bottle drip onto the carpet below and the large ruby-studded ring around the man’s finger.
    “It’s not a trick.”
    Ben reached out his hand slowly, taking the water bottle. His weak fingers were barely able to squeeze the cap off. The water burned his lips when he brought the rim to his mouth, but the cool wetness awakened a thirst he didn’t realize he had. He greedily gulped the water, the plastic bottle crinkling and the water level lowering until Ben choked, spilling some of the precious liquid to the floor. He wiped his mouth and caught his breath.
    “It’s all right,” the man said. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
    With his throat newly hydrated, Ben found the words he had been unable to speak earlier. “M-my family. W-where’s my f-family?”
    Ben could tell the man did his best to offer a sympathetic hand, but the forced lines of empathy only accentuated the farce across his face.
    “I know you must be worried about them. Would you like to see them?”
    Ben nodded. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He played around on the screen for a bit and then handed the device to Ben. A live video feed of both his children playing popped up on the monitor, and a slow sob escaped him. He traced the outlines of their faces with his fingertip, smiling.
    “They’re totally healthy and completely safe,” the man said. “Although they do miss their father.”
    “My w-wife,” Ben said. “Where’s B-Becca?”
    “We’ll get to her in a minute.” The man snatched his phone back and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’m going to make you a deal, Ben. I’m going to ask you some questions, and if I like what I hear, then I will let you go back to your children right now. They’re only a couple rooms down, still playing with those toys you saw.”
    “What do you want?”
    The man scooted his chair closer to Ben, who recoiled slightly from the new, more intimate distance between them. The man leaned forward, his