The interrogation rooms were cold, each one identical to the other—bare walls, a steel table, two chairs, and a single camera blinking red in the corner. Leonardo, Nikolai, Marco, Luca, Enzo, Paolo, Arturo, and Viktor had all been separated, each man left in silence with only his thoughts for company.
For two long hours, Leonardo and Nikolai sat untouched, waiting, while their men were questioned first.
The generals in charge of the investigation were gathered in a control room, watching the feeds. On one screen, Marco sat calmly, arms crossed, giving the same answers as the others. On another, Enzo leaned back, shrugging as though the interrogation bored him. Their stories didn’t bend, it remained constant.
“De Luca declared war,” they all said.
“Orsini backed him.”
“Leonardo’s estat
