Free True Conviction by James P. Sumner

searching for one last Hail Mary plan that will ultimately save him. I watch, somewhat pleased with myself, as the realization of pending defeat finally dawns on him.
    “Wh-what do you want to know?” he says eventually with a sigh.
    “Finally…” I say. “Okay, first question... Why did you revoke your offer to Pellaggio without telling him?”
    He hesitates, which isn’t a very good start.
    “Ted, don’t even think of lying to me.”
    “I... I can’t tell you. They’ll kill me.”
    He glances at Clara as he speaks. It’s just a quick look, but I spot it and look at her.
    “Are you going to kill him if he talks to me?” I ask.
    She stares at me blankly, like I’m an idiot. She’s really good at looking at me like that… and I don’t care for it.
    “I’ve just finished telling you I’m meant to protect him. Why would I kill him?” she says.
    I sigh again. I’m going round in circles here and I’m starting to lose my patience. I’m wasting time… I maybe need to take a slightly more drastic approach. I stand and walk across the room, picking up my silenced Beretta from over by the door where Clara had thrown it earlier. I check the magazine out of habit as head back over to them and stand behind Jackson. I extend my arm over his shoulder and past his head, so my gun appears in his line of sight. I then fire four bullets at the sofa in front of us. Each one causes a small cloud of white stuffing to erupt from the pillows.
    See, what most people don’t realize is, when you fire a gun the barrel gets really hot—a result of the mini explosion that initially propelsthe bullet out . So, after four shots, the barrel is so hot you could fry an egg on it.
    The shots terrify Jackson, who’s opened his mouth in a silent scream. Without warning, I place my gun on the side of his neck and hold it there. His silent scream turns into a very loud, guttural one. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clara squirming uncomfortably in her seat at the low hissing noise causes by his flesh smoldering from the heat.
    I give it seven seconds before removing my gun. I walk around and crouch down in front of him.
    “Teddy, I swear to God, I’m going to make you tell me everything I need to know,” I say, matter-of-factly.
    I gesture to his neck with my gun. The skin has blistered and burst, leaving him with blood and puss oozing down his shoulder and chest.
    “ That was nothing compared to what I’m both capable of and willing to do to you.”
    Jackson starts crying and I put the barrel of my gun near his neck again, to give him further incentive.
    “Okay, okay!” he yells. “I’ll tell you everything.”
    “That’s the spirit,” I say smiling. I stand and sit back down on the bullet-ridden sofa, gesturing with my hand for him to speak. “In your own time…”
    He sighs and composes himself, occasionally wincing from the pain, which I assume by now he’s feeling pretty much everywhere.
    “I saw that GlobaTech Industries had this land on their books that they weren’t doing anything with,” he begins. “I’d read about Pellaggio’s plans for expansion in the area and I approached him with the deal so I could make some money on the side. I didn’t think for a second that GlobaTech would notice. The land had been purchased for next-to-nothing over seven years ago.”
    “So you wanted to make a sneaky bit of cash? Makes sense,” I say. “So why pull out at the last minute?”
    “A few days ago, one the directors assigned me to a new project with a militia organization called Dark Rain. It was off the books, which was why I’d found no record of the land being part of it. The project was being overseen by a small division within GlobaTech that worked outside of the standard protocols and operating guidelines. This project required the use of the resources found on that land, and it was my job to set things up with Dark Rain. I had no choice but to walk away from Pellaggio’s deal. I knew I was causing