The operative in front of him clucks her tongue in disappointment. "I didn't drag you all the way here just to have you tell me shit I already know," she says, crossing her arms. "I want to know how you got on that shuttle. What you think you're doing here. The good, juicy details, you hear me? And if you won't tell me what I want to know..."

She signals silently to the two thugs behind Wash, and one of them steps forward and none too gently removes Wash's blindfold. The room is mostly dark, anyway, except for the one light over the table. The other guy undoes Wash's wrist restraints, but both of the thugs just as soon close a hand around each of his arms, preventing any thought of escape. All three of them are armed and armored. Wash is neither of those, and he's been rotting in a cell for a couple of days. Without much warning, one of the operatives pulls Wash's arm back, twisting it painfully behind him.

"Well, we'll get it out of you one way or another."