I looked through the one way glass as they wheeled him in. He looked about 19, fit, tanned, 5 10 or so, short jet black hair with eyes to die for. Well he wouldn’t actually have to die for them. I’d already been ordered to get everything I wanted out of him, but alive this time.
The three goons that dragged him into my “Initial Examination Room” as I liked to call it, so much nicer than “torture chamber”, were typical types. Heavy, muscled, hairy bears, none of them under 6’3” and wearing the uniform for their jobs in this wing, leather leggings and boots with heavy rubber aprons and bibs. Sometimes they wore fingerless studded gloves too but these were not uniform, just impressive.