Crossfire 4

Humbert Bale was a classic enthusiast, from music, watches, clothes to his torture tools. He was a 41-year-old man with no family. Paul had gathered some information on him.

We walked through a dark hallway towards a large room lit only by a lamp in the center. I think we were in a warehouse this time. He had prepared a chair for me, and a table of neatly arranged tools stood not far from it.

Humbert walked in front of me humming a classical tune, his large body slowing his steps. They tied me to the chair and pulled my hair up to make me look up. Humbert smiled widely like a kid ready to open his present.

I tried to wipe all expression off my face, thinking that the woman would be here in 17 hours. At least this time, I had to get her name.

Humbert pointed to his collection of tools on the table, his hands moving to decide which one to use first.

I knew this sick man's favorite instrument, he liked his extractor. It was a tang-shaped tool made of stainless steel, used of course, to p