Part 22 - Unintentional Threat

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Jase felt sick with conflicted anticipation. What the hell was he meant to do now? It was a given that Paige would fail the polygraph. They were by no means an accurate determination of what was true and what was a lie, but a lot could be learned through the right questions. 

"What do we do when she fails it?" Sonny echoed Jase's thoughts aloud. 

"I'm really banking on her being scared enough to blab. I only need to know when," Jase murmured despondently. 

Sonny's walkie emitted a loud crackle. He immediately adjusted the volume and received Perry's message dejectedly. Jase took advantage of Sonny's distracted conversation and stared hard at a large wooden box for too long. How many had been stuffed into there before? 

"Perry about the tapes," Sonny tapped the walkie by way of explanation and returned to Jase. "And if Paige doesn't spill? What then?"

"Then Sonny we are fucked. It will be out of our control. The CIA will take over, take al-Raheem, and take Paige. Then you and I will go home, you'll debrief, have some down time and pray the next mission is just kill or be killed," Jase had never felt so troubled by an assignment in his life. Despite suspecting her, and needing to interrogate her, he still desperately wanted to protect Paige. He was the least of all evils to her at the moment, not that she had any concept of that. 

The door to the small windowless shack rattled with a hard knock. Sonny paced towards the entrance, prizing the door open with a scream of resistance from the rusted hinges. Ant's features were hard and grim, he said nothing as Sonny wordlessly stepped aside. 

"It's a little late for negotiation," Jase shook off his anguished expression and stood impassively. 

"Do the CIA know you're questioning her?" Ant asked, his harsh ego dissolved by worry.

"They know we're speaking with her, yes," Jase responded honestly. It only made sense to catch up with Paige and see if she could provide them with any intel. 

"Did they give you permission to use the polygraph?"

"I don't need permission to conduct a polygraph test, Ant. Let me remind you that I could have her next to al-Raheem if that's how I wanted to play it," Jase resisted the urge to jab a finger in the air towards his British counterpart. 

"I don't want to play at all, this is her life," Ant stated slowly and deliberately, tension running through his body.

"If she doesn't want to play games, teach her not to tell lies," Sonny interjected.

"Why do the CIA not know?" Ant pressed, banking everything on this current vein of information.

"I told you, they know we're talking to her," Jase bit back.

"You haven't told them everything. Why?" Ant insisted, his tone intensifying.

"You don't-"

"Why?" Ant growled. 

"That's it-" Sonny shoved Ant's shoulder to muscle him out the door. Ant resisted, throwing all his weight back at the Southerner.

"You know why, Jase!" Ant yelled. "You know whatever she might have seen is dangerous. You know she's in trouble if you send this higher up!" He stopped resisting, and allowed Sonny to shunt him through the doorway. 

Jase kicked a bucket and sent it flying to the other side of the small building, rolling to a halt against a wall. 

"Do you realise what we're contemplating here," Sonny rubbed his forehead with a meaty palm, sweat licking the back of his head from the scuffle. He'd known Jase for nearly ten years, they were like brothers. He knew this predicament would be tearing his friend apart. 

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