"Cooperate, and things will go smoothly. If not, there will be consequences," Donald warned.

One of the fugitives, with a dark mole at the corner of his mouth, sneered. "Are you trying to scare us, Mr. Warren? The police department has no right to interrogate us."

The bald fugitive with the scorpion tattoo laughed coldly. "If it weren't for Dylan and Natasha searching everywhere, you useless cops wouldn't have caught us!"

Donald shouted, "Watch your mouth, you little punk! Want me to crack that skull of yours?"

The bald man smirked. "Empty threats won't work on us, Mr. Warren. If you've got the guts, do it—don't just sit there talking."

Donald turned to Andrew furiously and asked, "Mr. Lloyd, do you mind if I teach them a lesson? I could use a little warm-up."

"Are you sure that's wise in the interrogation room?" Andrew raised an eyebrow.

Donald grinned menacingly. "Mr. Lloyd, you're the only person I'd ever tiptoe around. But anyone else who sets foot in my territory lea