Why Aren't You Dead?

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The next day, we are forced to deal with Zola. There isn't anyone I hate more than that short, ugly, excuse for a human. Phillips chooses to interrogate him first. It lasts about 20 minutes before he comes out of the room with nothing.

"Let me go." I say to him.

"Absolutely not. You're grief stricken and the amount of trouble we could get into if things go wrong. He's the only lead we have."

"Phillips, last time I checked without Dr. Erskine, I'm the leader of this division. And you owe me." I say, my eyes narrowing. He hesitates.

"You've got 15 minutes. Anything longer and you're benched." I smile, knowing this is a lie.

I walk into the room where Zola sits silently. I sit on the opposite side of the table, simply staring at him without words.

"Why aren't you dead?" I say bluntly. "Everyone else we've captured kills themselves before this point. I was kinda counting on it. So, why live? Because we all know you don't get away from this scot free. Either Schmidt will kill you, or Captain America will. Or I will." I say my, eyes narrowing once again. "So, why are you alive?" He doesn't respond. "The funny thing is if I killed you right now, no one would be hurt. Not anyone out there. I might lose my job, but I lost everything else, so why would it matter."

"You won't do anything." He says in his thick accent.

"What did you use to experiment on them? If you're not gonna kill yourself, the least you could do is make my life a tenth easier. So what was it?" He stays silent. I erupt from my seat and pin him against the wall. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" I scream. Two soldiers barge in and push me away from him. I'm escorted from the room. Philips confronts me, but I continue to walk away. I'm not sure what happens to Zola after this nor do I care.

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