He spoke quickly because speed had helped him control conversations before.
This time, every word entered a body-camera recording.
The old phone in my hand began to play.
I had touched the screen without realizing it.
Marcus’s own voice filled the room.
“You’re not leaving this basement.”
Then came the crash of his boot against the cage.
Then came his threat against the baby.
The agent nearest him repeated the command.
Marcus looked at the phone.
For the first time that night, he understood that the witness he had tried to erase had been recording him from inside the cage.
He lunged toward the bars.
The agents intercepted him before he reached me.
They forced him to the floor and secured his hands while he shouted that the recording was fake.
He demanded that his guests listen to him.
He called them by the names he knew them by.
