The guy's expression was ice-cold, unflinching, and Bill knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was utterly serious. He'd do it. He'd break every bone in Bill's hands, and he'd do it one by one, slow and methodical with nary a flinch. And it was that realisation, rather than the pain of his finger being jerked back, that sent a hot bolt of fear lancing through his heart.
This wasn't normal. This wasn't the way the cops operated, at least not your average uniformed sadist. They'd go for deniability first. Pump a guy full of hot lead and claim they'd seen a gun. Kick him bloody and claim he was resisting arrest. Grind his hand under their boot and say he was reaching for a weapon.
This wasn't deniable. This was-- fuck. This was straight out of the organised crime playbook. Was this guy on somebody's payroll? Had Bill managed to piss somebody off? Was that why he'd been set up?