Marcos was binding Gordon Reeves’ hands behind his back, when he grumbled, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”
“I can see how having inept help could make life difficult,” Reeves said.
“Give the psycho-babble a rest, doc,” Marcos replied. “It won’t work on me.”
Reeves tried a different tack. “You seem to know quite a bit about me, but I know nothing about you. For instance, who hired you to kidnap my son?”
Marcos squirmed briefly, thinking of the Mastermind and how little he actually knew about the ultimate scheme. His pride would not allow him to consider himself a mere gun for hire. “What makes you think I’m not the mastermind behind this whole thing?” Marcos said, taking the bait.
“You’re nothing more than a hired hand, a babysitter.”
“Says me!” Reeves exclaimed as he used his legs to forcefully propel his chair backwards into Marcos’ abdomen. Marcos gasped as Reeves stood over him, ready to extract information by whatever means necessary.