The Prisoner

"You're lying to me."

Collins was not, on the face of it, the kind of man who would seem intimidating to the casual observer. With his round glasses and slick, side-parted hair he looked more like an accountant than an interrogator. Unfortunately, thought Mei, appearances are deceptive. The worst thing was the way he just sat across from her at the table, staring, not moving, just staring. Most thugs who normally did this kind of work would start with a little physical brutality, or at least leaning forward and shouting their version of the truth at her. The cleverer ones usually tried to trip their subject into making mistakes by asking the right questions and slowly clocking up the pressure. But this man had just patiently listened to her story over the last twenty minutes, hardly interrupting, waiting until she finished.

Around them, the room gleamed. Clean, white walls, chrome table, chrome chairs: the sanitised corporate version of your everyday police interview room. By his chair sat Collins' case - it was silver.

"I know you're lying to me. Do you know how I know?"

Mei looked up. A security camera was pointed directly at her, the red "on" LED blinking. Maybe an IR sensor linked to heat monitoring equipment? Or one of those machines that scanned the eyeball looking for pupil dilation and reaction time, maybe...

"Young lady, everything you have told me makes perfect sense. Your story is sensible. It is rational. It even ties in with one or two of the facts we know about the 'incident', as you so neatly described it. However, it contradicts directly with the version of events preferred by my employer, so therefore it must be a lie."

"Whatever your employer said," interrupted Mei in an indignant tone, "I don't care. I did his job for him, I left. Case closed. We're even now." She shrugged. "What the hell right has he got to hold me here?"

Collins smiled, the light reflecting off his glasses. "I think it would be called a citizen's arrest, legally speaking. After all, you planned the raid, executed it yourself, and sold the 'merchandise' on the black market. The police will be most interested..."

"Bullshit." Mei's eyes flashed anger. "You're not going to give me to the police. I don't think you'll kill me either, unless I refuse...?"

"Very good, Miss Mei. We do indeed wish for you to do some more work for us." His hand reached down to the case by his chair and he withdrew a slim manila envelope. Between thumb and forefinger he held it out to Mei, who pulled it away from him and ripped it open. The contents turned out to be a slim file of papers and several photographs.

"Please excuse the somewhat primitive materials, Miss Mei, but I regret I am a traditionalist on such matters," intoned Collins. Mei ignored him and continued to examine the file. The photos in particular caught her interest - a building, from several angles, along with a couple of images of a man - she didn't recognise him and his name wasn't supplied.

She snorted and threw the file back down on the table. "So what do you expect me to do with this? Pin it to my cell wall?"

"Nothing so vulgar, I fear. The organisation documented in that record is of particular interest to my employer. To put it more succinctly, they have something we wish to acquire." Collins peered at her over his glasses before pushing them back up his nose.

"You mean that you want me to acquire for you?"

"Precisely." He was the epitome of satisfied smugness.

"No chance. Not after last time. No more corps. No bastards like you. I work only for myself."

"Perhaps you should think about doing what you are told...?" As Collins finished the sentence Mei's angry fist flew out and hit him full in the face. He didn't flinch, even as his glasses left his nose and landed on the floor in two separate pieces. However, his own right hand now suddenly held a gun against the side of her head.

"I think you should reconsider... after all, I do not think you will find yourself with a great deal of choice in the matter." He pushed the file back towards her. "I think you should be given some time to think about it. Guard!"

A young man dressed in uniform stepped in and saluted.

"Take her back to her cell to consider our offer," Collins continued. "Keep her under constant surveillance. Clear?"

"Sir!" barked the guard as he began to frog-march the young woman out of the room.

* * *

As she was led through the building to her cell, Mei's eyes constantly flicked back and forth, to-and-fro between the various cameras, motion sensors and other equipment that stood between the outside world and the very secret inner recesses of the Dalyn-Steward building. She smiled. After all, it was so very nice of them to let her walk right through their security like this.

Stewart Cowan, 08/11/00

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