The Collector

2

It wasn't quite an interrogation room. The biggest factor was the lack of cops. Just four dull gray walls with a light hanging from the ceiling, a metal table and chair in the middle, no one-sided window and only a door where she could hear men talk but not quite make out what they were saying. But she wasn't alone.

In the corner, opposite of the door, stood the Aussie with his arms folded, glaring at her from the corner of his eye. He was also at a crossroads, he couldn't decide whether she was an enemy (of some kind) or really just a dumb civilian who decided to saunter around without thinking, but one thing did not falter. He did not trust her... yet?

Unbothered by his glaring or rather trying to keep a brave face Emma frustratingly removing sand and dust as best she could from areas where sand should not be, but it was difficult whiles someone else was in the room. Removing her boots, she tipped them over removing sand and small rocks. There had not been complaints from the man against the wall about her actions, so she only continued. Emma also took the opportunity to study the man, making sure not to look too long only giving him side glances.

He wore a red three-quarter button up t-shirt - the top button was open revealing a white undershirt - and a dark brown or gray vest. Not zipped up like the other man. With bullets in his right pocket, a quiver over his right shoulder and black fingerless gloves. From where she sat, she could not see his shoes, but he wore dark gray almost black pants with a small satchel on his right upper thigh. The shadow from his hat and glasses made it hard to see his face and know what he was thinking. Only remembering his light blue eyes in the scuffle.

Suddenly the door opened and a very well-dressed man, also in red, walked in with a ski mask on. "Ee apologize for makin' you wait so lon', mademoiselle." Never mind a balaclava because this was a Frenchman. "Dz eembehciles outside had told meh evergrythin'..." He used his best velvet like voice to get her to ease but Emma didn't really care, and he kept yammering on, saying 'mon cher' every now and then.

Watching her intently he was a bit offended that she wasn't listening, about to speak once more she stopped him. Leaning slightly over, brushing her shoulder length even dirtier blond hair to remove more sand and dust. "Are you a lawyer or something?" She asked frowning slightly sitting back up, throwing her hair back and unwrapping the dust covered red scarf and placing it on the table. "Non?" He furrowed his brows glancing at the man in the corner. "Ok good because I don't really like lawyers and I'm not the one that should be interrogated. These people attacked me!" She burst out shaking her scarf and wrapping it loosely around her neck, folding her arms over her chest. The Aussie found a new liking to the trespasser. Most women would be swooned by the French accent, but she didn't seem all that impressed only caring about her own safety.

The door opened once more and the two men from before walked in, but this time the Texan spoke first and the loud-mouth stood near the door with the Frenchman. "Ah want to apologize for my frayend's rude behavayor and the hostility from these two men," Pointing at the loud man and the Aussie, "had shown ya." Smiling kindly Emma felt a bit more relaxed but that quickly ended with his next words. "But we would very much layke to know how ya found us?" His voice had a little more aggression and Emma knew that now was not the time to be wasting any time.

Unfolding her arms, she placed her hands on the table to seem more harmless, taking a deep breath she spoke slowly. "Look, my father left me a letter saying that this place was "safe" and that I might be able to use my skills here and-" "That still doesn't tell us how!" The loud-mouth interrupted, making her raise her voice but keep her composure. "I'm getting there! He didn't give me this places' coordinates but the small town not far from here, um, -eufo-t." Everyone simultaneously frowned and the man in the corner looked up. "Ya mean Teufort?" The Texan corrected, she only shrugged, calm once more. "A man near the bus stop drove me here and then left me here," Feeling slightly betrayed she pushed it away, "but the only other thing worth mentioning it that my father said, 'RED is your friend'. That is why I am wearing a red scarf." "But who was your father?!" The loud one pointed an accusing finger at her. Licking her lips, she sighed deeply. The man yelling at her was making her nervous and the four pairs of glaring eyes did not help either.