Chapter - 320
Ten minutes later.
The kitchen staff had been zip-tied and locked in the dry storage pantry. The guards were unconscious and bound in the delivery van outside.
Rick, Sharon, and Vancroft were in the massive Walk-In Freezer. It was minus ten degrees inside. Carcasses of beef hung from hooks.
Vancroft was tied to a chair in the center of the freezer, shivering violently.
"This is an outrage!" Vancroft chattered. "Do you know who I cook for? Silas Warner! He will have you skinned!"
"Yeah, yeah," Rick said, opening the silver briefcase. He pulled out the DNA sampler—a nasty-looking needle and a retinal scanner. "Hold still, Henri. This won't hurt. Much."
He jammed the needle into Vancroft's arm. The chef shrieked. Rick drew a vial of blood. Then he forced Vancroft's eye open and scanned it. Then he held a recorder to his mouth.
"Say: 'The soup is excellent, Mr. Warner.'"
"Go to hell!"
