Mr. Tregaskis held out far longer than I liked.
It took until a little before sunrise this morning before I was finally able to force the door. Tregaskis fired at me with the proverbial elephant gun, which I am pleased to say missed me entirely.
I did reprimand him, rather forcefully, for his actions. He suffered for several hours before I asked him any questions. I think it was my silence more than the torture which eventually persuaded him to answer.
He gleefully told me about his organization and the person above him. She was Eloise Senter, and she was older than the country itself. Since I too am older than the country, I was not particularly impressed. I did not share my age with Tregaskis. Instead, I focused on logistical questions. Number of troops, active followers, silent supporters, politicians, and the like.
He refused to answer specifics regarding politicians until three in the afternoon after I had amputated both arms at the elbow. It was at that point he realized he was going to die. Whether painfully and slowly, or quickly, were in his control.
And that was the only aspect of his life in which he still maintained control.
I jotted down all the information he gave to me, and when it was all said and done, he asked that he be shot in the head.
I shot him through his groin and left him screaming in his chair.
My friends hadn’t enjoyed a choice in the way they died. Why should he?
I set fire to every building on his vast estate before I left.
I hope he burned.
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