18 hours later.
Virginia, Langley, deep within CIA headquarters.
The air was filled with the scent of disinfectant mixed with some invisible pressure.
The specially designed interrogation room was bone-chilling cold, the glaring white light poured down from the ceiling, leaving no shadows, making Terry in the middle metal chair exposed with nowhere to hide.
His eyes were sunken, hair disheveled, and his rumpled shirt clung to his body, no longer exhibiting the dignity of the Deputy Chief of Kuwait Intelligence Station.
"I didn't!"
Terry's voice was hoarse and cracked, echoing with desperate anger against the walls, "I swear to God, I never leaked any information about the 'Marlin Fish'! Not a single word! It's top secret! I understand the discipline!"
Director Vincent stood in front of him, a shadow cast over most of his face, only the tight line of his jaw revealed an extreme cold hardness.
Beside him, Hanks was expressionless, like a cold stone statue.
"Discipline?"
