Chapter 24: The Interrogation
CLICK.
EMPTY!
The second-to-last chamber... was also empty! That meant the final, live round was waiting in the last chamber.
In that instant, a wave of pure, unadulterated despair crashed over Hol Horse. He understood. He had lost. He had lost completely, down to his very soul. He had lost the courage to even look Jonas in the eye, let alone pull the trigger one last time to save himself.
He slumped against the table, his spirit, his will, and his courage utterly shattered. The game was over.
Jonas coolly retrieved the revolver.
"One last chance, Hol Horse," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he aimed the barrel directly at the cowboy's head. "Do you want to try your luck?"
"WAIT! DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT!" Hol Horse shrieked, throwing his hands up to shield his face, cowering in abject terror.
But Jonas didn't lower the gun. He leaned in, pressing the muzzle to Hol Horse's temple, his voice a low, murderous whisper.
"Since you're not going to pull the trigger... you're going to tell me everything I want to know. And don't even think about lying. Because if you do, I will find a way to kill you, drag your soul back, and kill you again."
"I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK! JUST DON'T SHOOT!" Hol Horse had completely and utterly capitulated.
"I ask. You answer. Understand?"
"Yes, Señor Jonas! Crystal clear!"
"What is your Stand's ability?"
"It's [The Emperor]! It's a gun! The bullets are part of the Stand!"
"Who sent you?"
"Enya the Hag!"
"Are you her subordinate?"
"No! I'm a hired assassin! A mercenary!"
"What is your mission?"
"To team up with other Stand users and eliminate you here in France!"
"Your teammates?"
"It was Alessi... now it's J. Geil!"
"J. Geil... That's Enya's son, isn't it?"
"Yes!"
"Do you know where he is?"
"No! I swear! Why else would I be sitting in this boring dump waiting for him?!"
"What is his Stand ability?"
"I don't know that either! Enya never told me!"
"Don't you dare hold anything back," Jonas warned, casually spinning the revolver, which now held only one, very live, round.
"It's the truth, I swear!" Hol Horse pleaded. "I've never even met the guy! How could I know his Stand?!"
Jonas stared him down for a long, cold moment, then continued. "Is this just Enya's mission? Or is there someone above her?"
"I... I don't know for sure," Hol Horse stammered. "But Enya... she serves someone. Someone she's completely, fanatically loyal to. I think... I think his name is... DIO."
DIO!
The name struck Jonas like a physical blow, triggering the fragmented, powerful memories from his past life. The charismatic vampire, the memes, the videos... the ultimate villain of this bizarre world.
He'd somehow gotten himself tangled up with that guy. The thought of being on Dio Brando's radar was... troublesome, to say the least.
The only small mercy was that his priority level with Dio himself seemed to be low; only Enya was actively sending assassins after him. Still, he knew he couldn't let his guard down for an instant. But that didn't mean he was afraid. If Dio wanted a fight, Jonas would be ready.
Just as he was about to press for more, a new voice bellowed through the tavern.
"HEY! You two! Put the gun down, NOW!"
A young, uniformed police officer was standing in the doorway, his own pistol aimed nervously at them. The drunk who'd fled must have called him.
Jonas turned, his brow furrowing. Good grief. What a pain. He hated dealing with the police; it was always a waste of time. He should have dragged Hol Horse into an alley.
Jonas quickly pocketed the revolver—a new acquisition, thanks to a black-market contact from the Paris bartender. He turned, holding his hands up in a classic "who, me?" gesture. "Officer, is there a problem? We're just having a friendly drink."
"That's right, officier!" Hol Horse chimed in, instantly catching on. "Just two pals, shootin' the breeze! No guns here!"
"Is... that so?" The cop hesitated. He hadn't heard any gunshots, just the report.
"Of course it's a misunderstanding!" Jonas said smoothly.
"You don't believe us?" Hol Horse suddenly suggested, spreading his arms wide. "Hey, search me! I've got nothing to hide!"
Jonas's eye twitched. This slippery bastard. He instantly saw Hol Horse's gambit: use the police as a shield to escape his control. And it was working. With a cop present, Hol Horse's fleeting courage had returned.
The officer, thinking this reasonable, strode forward and gave Hol Horse a thorough pat-down. Finding nothing, he cleared him.
"Alright, monsieur," he said, turning his suspicious gaze to Jonas. "Your turn. Hands on your head."
Jonas sighed and raised his hands. He had no desire to pick a fight with the national authorities. Against the power of an entire country, a Stand user's individual strength was trivial.
And as the officer began to frisk Jonas, Hol Horse, his eyes wide with triumphant fear, began to silently, slowly, backpedal toward the tavern door.