Read Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The interrogation began the next morning, though Léon had no way of telling time in the darkness. The cell door opened, and two guards dragged him into a small room lit by a single overhead bulb. The room contained a metal table, two chairs, and a recording device. A man in a gray uniform sat behind the table, his face expressionless.

"Sit," the man said.

Léon sat. The guards took positions behind him, their presence a constant reminder of the consequences of resistance.

The interrogation lasted for hours. The questions were repetitive, designed to wear him down: Who were your co-conspirators? What was the purpose of the operation? Who installed the bypass relay? Who else knew about the unauthorized devices?

Léon answered none of them. He repeated the same phrase over and over: "I have nothing to say."

The interrogator grew frustrated. He raised his voice, slammed his fist on the table, threatened Léon with worse treatment. But Léon remained calm, his voice steady.

He had made his choice. He would not betray his friends.

By the end of the day, the interrogator gave up. He signaled to the guards, and Léon was returned to his cell. The door clanged shut, and the darkness swallowed him again.

He lay on the cold stone floor, his body aching from the hours of sitting, his mind numb with exhaustion. But somewhere deep inside, a small flame of defiance still burned.

They could break his body. They could take his freedom. But they could not take the truth.