Risk and Rebel

44: TOO SMART FOR YOU

"State your name for the recording, please," the man said, keeping steady eye contact with me. His expression was neutral, his dark blue eyes sharp. Though he didn't seem entirely comfortable sitting in the room with me — to be fair, few people outside of LASAR do — he also seemed skeptical, if not even irritated, about interrogating me. I was guessing it was an age thing.

I flashed a smile at him, doing my best to keep my amusement tamped down. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," I said, smile fading as I tipped my head and continued to watch him with curiosity.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing on me. He tapped the edge of the file against the table before putting it down. He seemed to consider my statement for a fraction of a second longer than I would have anticipated, before he let out a huff of a sigh. "I'm Detective McCann," he said, watching me with brows raised expectantly. "Now, if you'd please," he gestured toward the recording device in the middle of the table, just out of my reach.

I smiled slightly. "Risk."

One of McCann's brows arched. "I need your real name, not an alias."

"That is my real name," I said before I leaned back some in my chair. My hands separated, resting loosely atop the table, palms facing down. "I'm almost surprised you don't believe me, Detective," I said, sobering up when his skepticism remained. I surveyed McCann critically. He was a put together man, probably did big cases; crimes like homicides, maybe he even helped MI6 sometimes ... "After all, by now you're likely aware that I don't match any facial recognition on any database— at least, the ones you have access to," I amended, though I knew that it was a fact that went far beyond his resources. "You have less information than you've ever had on a suspect before," I said, gaze dropping to his laughably small file, "and no hope of uncovering any more. Unless I prove to be amiable, that is."

McCann seemed shell-shocked by my observations. His initial response was to blink at me, his lips having pressed into a firm line. I was right, and he didn't like it. But that was fine by me. "Is that a roundabout way of suggesting you're going to cooperate? Because your offering up an alias right off the bat doesn't sound much like cooperation to me."

A smile tugged at my lips yet again. "I told you, Risk is my real name." One of my shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "You can believe me, or not. I don't particularly care either way, but we're not going to get anywhere if you can't accept it."

McCann's blue eyes darkened further and hardened. "Last name?"

"Risk is my only name," I answered. My patience was wavering. It's not like I'd had to interact with any cops before. I didn't realize how frustrating it could be. I took a steadying breath, more for his sake than mine.

He continued on as though he hadn't noticed, flipping open the file to the top page. "Fine. Okay. You and your friends were recently involved in an armed altercation with other individuals. The others fled the scene upon the arrival of the police." He looked up at me briefly. "An explosion also occurred."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what happened," I agreed with a shrug.

"Eyewitnesses reported that two of your friends caused the explosion," McCann continued, this time watching me a little more critically. "Is that correct?"

"Well, one of them caused it, the other was there to make sure she didn't blow up a whole city block," I said, managing to keep a straight face all the while.

McCann shook his head in what I guessed was disapproval. "You're lucky that the building was abandoned."

I smirked. "It isn't luck, Detective. It's skill, and the lack of desire to have more blood on our hands than necessary."

McCann didn't seem to know what to say to that, and for a moment he remained silent, dark eyes surveying the paper before him. "Who were the men you exchanged fire with?"

"Members of a ghost organization," I said without missing a beat.

That got his attention. He didn't even try to keep the surprise off his face. "Don't you think that sounds a little far-fetched?"

"Sure," I shrugged, "but then, truth is usually stranger than fiction."

McCann was not impressed, and now looked stuck somewhere between surprised and doubtful. "What would a ghost organization want with a bunch of teenagers?"

I flashed him a Cheshire smile, undeterred by the assumption of my inferiority. "If you haven't noticed by now, Detective, we're not exactly normal teenagers."

He considered that in silence and looked down at his file again. He didn't seem to be reading it though; just staring at it. No doubt attempting to process what I said, trying to determine if I was lying or not. Eventually, he glanced over at the one way glass, drawing my attention there as well. I wondered who was on the other side; a superior, or maybe a partner?

Whoever was watching didn't matter for the moment, though. I could see McCann, so he was where my focus remained.

When he didn't speak for another long moment, I decided to. "Your country is in danger."

That pulled him out of his thoughts. His eyes zeroed on me with intense focus now. "From the organization? Or from you?"

I smiled cattily at him. "Lucky enough for you, it's from the organization. They're known as the Kinetic, and they've been infiltrating your government for the past ..." I sighed, thinking back for a moment to the information Gray had given us; "At least two months."

McCann stared, then began to shake his head. "That's impossible."

I smirked. "Nothing is impossible, Detective, only difficult."

He shifted in his seat and glanced at the one-way glass again. "How did you come about this information?"

"A former associate who decided to join them."

"Them being the Kinetic."

"Yes," I agreed. The longer we sat there, the more I wanted to undo my handcuffs. Not to escape, but just to have the metal stop rubbing against my skin. It was annoying. I'd never been a fan of training that involved handcuffs. "You don't believe me."

"You haven't exactly given me a good reason to," McCann pointed out.

I arched a brow at him. "How do you expect me to when I'm in this position?" I asked, rattling the handcuffs pointedly.

McCann seemed to actually consider that. Neither of us spoke, until eventually, he gathered the file and straightened. I watched as he smoothed out his suit, my face neutral. "I ... will get back to you on that." He paused. "After speaking with your companions."

My answering hum was contemplative. "If you don't return in the next thirty minutes," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, "it'll be me getting back to you."

McCann hesitated at the door, his expression conveying he didn't want to know what I meant by that. But his only response was to nod and stride from the room.

So I returned to my counting, this time fixated on the wall. Without looking, I was telekinetically unlocking the handcuffs. Because whether McCann would come back or not, I was not going to play prisoner for that much longer. Whether the Kinetic had infiltrated the police or not, I would be proven right.

It was just a matter of time.