"Either, Lady. I'm an honest farmer. Or was, till those bas—uh, Brothers—killed my wife and kidnapped my little girl. They said they'd kill her too, unless … unless I helped them." His shoulders slumped. "They've probably killed her anyway—or worse. But I can't take that chance."
Cortin took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Dave was right, she thought; this was one of the worst of the Brothers' atrocities, and it made her coldly furious. Forcing outsiders to help in horror-raids by threats to their families went beyond her conception—until now—of even the Brothers' depravity. "I believe you," she said, and showed him the back of one hand. "Any Inquisitor who wears this mark knows when someone's telling the truth, and no one who hasn't committed a crime will be punished. You'll be taken to the Detention Center, though, for detailed questioning. Enforcement will use any information you can give us to try to rescue your daughter, so be as thorough as you can; sometimes a tiny detail you think useless can be the key. After that, I'm afraid, you'll be kept in protective custody—" She broke off at his expression. "Protective custody, I said! Think, man—if we turn you loose, the Brothers can still use that threat against you. There's no guarantee what'll happen with you and whoever else is in the same situation in custody, but there's no doubt what'll happen if you're not. And I'll see it's as comfortable for you as it can be. Do you know how many others are in your situation?"
The man shrugged. "Maybe half of this group; I couldn't say how many anywhere else. You will save Catherine?"
"We'll do our best," Cortin promised. "In fact— Colonel Bradford?"
"Yes, Excellency?"
"Can you arrange for a special Enforcement task force devoted to finding these … hostages?"
"As soon as we return to base, Excellency. And may I suggest you offer these men employment in Archangel under Strike Force protection until their families can be rescued, or confirmed dead?"
"Mmm. It would give them something to do and provide income …" She turned to the man. "Would you be interested in that sort of offer?"
"Yes, if it was something I could do—better than sitting around sweating it out."
"Reconstructing and fixing up some prewar buildings," Bradford told him. "Headquarters for His Majesty's Strike Force, and Her Grace's Archducal Palace and Enforcement headquarters."