Vidal was taking his time. To question a prisoner was a complex process. It resembled a dance, one slow step back, then a fast one forward, and back again. Slow, fast, slow. His prisoner was shaking and his face was streaked with sweat, though they had only roughed him up a little. His fear was doing most of the work so far, the fear of what was going to come. It would be easy to break him.
