Who is she working for?

"I think we should start with: Who are you working for? Don't worry, I won't tell." She swallows, "...The Triad." Maybe you still getting used to being dead on the inside but that was an awfully quick response. "Mm....Yeah. I don't believe you. But I'm feeling generous today so I'll give you one more chance: Who. Do. You. Work for?" Her lips pull back in a snarl but you don't let her mouth off to you, cutting her off with a SMACK across the cheek. "I'd think very carefully about how you answer my questions, not all of these mixtures are as benign as what I gave you last night."

She's stunned for a moment and when she starts talking again it's quieter and a bit more tremulous, "I...I work for the Triad. M-my overseer is... what are you doing?" You'd gotten up from the bed frame and moved to retrieve one of the vials from your bag. "I'm telling you the truth! I swear!" The vials clink together as you root through them, looking for an appropriate punishment. "Please! You have to believe me! D-DON'T!" You press the needle of a syringe against the soft skin of her arm, easily holding her steady. "OK! OK! I work for Ivor Minsk! I run his tactical unit! Please stop!" You pause. That sounded a bit more believable.

"Ivor Minsk huh? Why is he involved?" You talk like you know who she's talking about, the more she thinks you know the less likely she'll lie to you.

"He... he wanted... You're sure he won't find out?"

Wow, 'reduced intelligence' was right. You had this woman spilling her guts and you didn't even know what you were threatening her with. R-15 was awesome. You leer down at her burgeoning curvy figure as you respond, "I promise that if you tell me everything I'll be sure to keep you safe from Mr. Minsk."

"He...contacted you people with a business offer..."

"Obviously. Stop wasting time." You were loving this.

"He was able to trace your business to the warehouse and he told me to steal whatever I could and then destroy the place, framing the Triad. He wants to put you out of business and take over your product."

"Slippery son of a bitch... Hm... Well, your story matches up with the evidence. I suppose I can't inject you with this syringe..." She lets out her breath, breathing heavily in relief...