Risk and Rebel

43: QUALITY TIME WITH THE POLICE

No member of LASAR had ever been arrested before, and with good reason.

Partially because our training meant we didn't get caught; partially because Boss was paranoid and did everything he could to intervene if the unthinkable happened and we did get caught ... and partially because, technically, we don't exist.

Yet now Rebel and I sat in the back of one cop car, with Outlaw and Slick in another. Two more cop cars followed in front of and behind us, and to say the officer driving our car was giddy would've been an extreme understatement. He kept looking over his shoulder at the two of us, though neither of us had moved since being shoved into the back of the vehicle. His partner seemed far more relaxed.

We'd remained uncharacteristically silent, which didn't seem to be helping the driver's nerves.

This was the kind of situation where Under would've been very helpful.

Eventually, Rebel spoke up, in hushed Russian. "Soon?"

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror at us, and I was certain I could see beads of sweat on his forehead.

I hummed and held steady eye contact with the driver for a moment. Wordlessly, I shook my head. I flashed a small closed-mouthed smile at the officer, then turned my gaze to my partner. "Gray never said if the Kinetic had infiltrated law enforcement," I recalled, also in Russian, before my eyes drifted to the city whipping by us.

"I don't think the police are going to want to be our allies," Rebel drawled.

I shrugged a shoulder passively. "If we escape, we make a scene. Less of a scene than we would've made if you and I had gone X-Men on them, but a scene all the same—"

"Hey!" the officer in the passenger seat said, turning and glaring at Rebel and I. "Keep it down back there. No talking."

The grin Rebel shot at the officer was feral, his green eyes sharp as daggers and brimming with annoyance. "Would you rather we—" he began to say in English, a touch of malice to his words, when I sighed loudly and cut him off.

"Reb," I warned.

He shot me a look without missing a beat. "Risk."

"Play nice," I said with a British-English accent that perfectly mimicked those of the officers in the car with us.

Rebel snickered, no doubt because of the look on the driver's face when he peered at us in the rearview mirror.

But neither of us spoke after that. Instead we sat still and in silence, slight smiles on our faces. Neither of the officers seemed convinced by our newest fronts, but I wasn't concerned.

Everyone in the world is privy to some level of information about something. Even students, children; they know about their schools, about their peers, about the routes they take to and from places. Politicians know the ins and outs of the government and how to play the strings and the public; hackers know how to play networks and programming to their will. Police are a special kind all of their own. They're composed of various types of specialists from various walks of life, and they're placed in such a position where they have constant influxes of information about criminals, laws ...

As Rebel had pointed out, it was doubtful that they would agree to side with us. And that was assuming they hadn't been infiltrated and corrupted by the Kinetic.

If they had been, then there was no way we couldn't make a scene.

Outlaw and Slick would wait for our signal. Since we hadn't given one, that meant they'd be escorted into the police station, just like we would.

We'd all go through interrogation for sure, and that was something that I was looking forward to. My smile widened at the thought, flipping to genuine and losing some malice. The driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat when he saw, but made no move to get his friend's attention.

Rebel arched a brow and smiled slightly at the look on my face. He asked no questions, and I offered no explanation.

We endured the rest of the ride in silence.

--

"I'm not a fan of whatever cuckoo plan you've cooked up, Boss," Outlaw called to me as she was escorted away from us, with Slick on her tail. "Just wanna make that clear."

Slick looked over her shoulder just long enough to roll her eyes at me, before the two of them disappeared down a hallway. Rebel and I were escorted down another hall in the opposite direction, our cuffs still on, Rebel in front of myself.

We were led into separate rooms, and as soon as I was pushed into mine, I spotted the one-way glass on one wall. A table and two chairs sat within, and a half-smirk tugged at my lips as I was pointed toward a chair. The two officers with me were meticulous in how they cuffed me to the table, and soon enough they were rushing out of the room, leaving me alone.

With only the one-way glass and the security cameras to keep me company.

I thrummed my fingers against the top of the metal table as I waited for whoever to come interrogate me, my eyes tracing around the room in boredom. The one-way glass was to be expected, and I stared at it the longest, fully aware that there were likely people on the other side watching me.

As soon as I had entered the room, I had begun counting. Tracking the seconds until someone came to talk to me.

I made it to one-thousand-six-hundred-twelve, then the door swung open.

The man who came in was around Rebel's height, dressed in a nice blue suit with an open-collared shirt. His dark hair was done up in a style that was somewhere between trendy and professional, and his eyes were a dark shade of blue, brought out effectively by his suit. I flashed him a smile as he entered, and clasped my hands together on the table.

"Ma'am," he said, pulling his chair out and taking a seat, shuffling a very thin file before him onto the table.

My smile got impossibly wider, and I leaned back in my chair. "Oh, this is going to be so fun," I said cheerfully.

The doubtful look on his face made it all the better.