Shields

Chapter 1: Four Years Later

I met my kidnapper's harsh stare with a glare of my own. I was sitting in a hard wood chair, a polished oak desk acting as a barrier between us, which was probably a good thing, because I didn't want the man to see me picking the lock on my handcuffs once I finally got my pick out. A gun lay on the table between us, gleaming in the light of the single, dim bulb hanging above us.

We were surrounded by white-washed walls and I was beginning to feel cramped in the tiny space.

The man's face was hidden by the deep shadows cast by the bulb's dim light. He placed his hands on the desk, inches from the gun, and stared into my eyes, probably deciding what to say.

Finally, he spoke, his voice harsh and thin, almost ghostlike. "You're an awfully young man for the reputation that precedes you. I have to admit, I'm a bit surprised, now that I see you in person."

"Disappointed? That why you took a week to finally interview me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He scoffed, a self-righteous smirk creeping onto his face.

"I have my reasons for that. And I'm more... interested. How did you get so good? And how did you get into the agency so young with such amazing scores?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. Get to business, please. I don't want my time here to be a complete waste." I brought my cuffed hands up to brush a lock of black hair out of my eyes. I should trim my hair when I get out of here. I thought, putting my hands back down. I'd finally managed to work my hidden lock picks out of the flesh-mimicking wrap around my finger. Useful, but not always the most practical things. Especially in the handcuffs you're trying to pick.

He stared at me long and hard before finally saying, "You know things, Agent Shields." He leaned closer and I could smell onions on his breath. "Things that I really need to know. So are you going to tell me? Or will we have to do this the hard way?" He gave me a wolfish grin. His blonde hair looked greasy in the meager lighting and his pudgy face was slightly red, either from the damp cold of the room or because he was annoyed with me for being difficult.

"You won't force me to talk. Not unless I want to," I said coldly. Just a bit more and these stupid cuffs will be gone. I thought, my excitement building. I held myself in check, fiddling with my tiny lock pick and pushing it in a bit more. I held perfectly still as it clicked open. There!

"The hard way, then." His grin widened. "I'm going to enjoy this more than you know."

"How about we exchange information instead?" I murmured. "You tell me what I want to know, and I tell you what you want to know." Liar, liar pants on fire. My mind taunted. I didn't like lying, but in my line of work, it was the key to staying alive.

"What do you want to know, Shields?" He stopped pacing and faced me, his hands planted on the desk, fingers tapping.

"Why did you have to use me to get this information? What do I know that a lesser agent wouldn't?" I leaned forward, smiling coldly. "You need something from me that only a higher ranked agent would know. But you aren't prepared enough to get at a higher agent than me, and that would be a stupid move anyway. You don't want to reveal yourselves yet, do you? You wanted someone who knows what you want to know, but wouldn't be missed by headquarters."

"An excellent conclusion. You're smarter than you look." His face remained expressionless as he said it, completely void of emotion.

"Headquarters will be looking for me. You kidnapped their top lower-ranking agent. Of course, you know this, which is why you brought me in here to question instead of keeping me locked up in that tiny little cage you call a cell and continuing to give me doses of your mystery concoction. You don't want to lose me before you get the information you need. I still don't understand why you waited a week to interrogate me, but they won't care. They'll pull me out soon. "

The man's eyebrows went up. "We didn't get you just to ask you questions, Demetriot. But if you need them to pull you, then I guess we don't need to worry about you escaping."

"Sure, whatever. Don't bother putting a guard on me, because I'd never try to run anyway," I said sarcastically. He didn't reply to that, but I didn't care; he didn't have to. I knew my comment had gotten under his skin. He didn't like my indirect insult to their security.

"I need you to tell me exactly how to get into the government building of the city. I want to know everything, down to the very last, tiny little detail," he said, getting back on track.

"How do you know I even know how?" I asked, holding myself in check, keeping up the guise of a helpless, handcuffed prisoner. It would be so nice to strangle you. I thought. See if that smug smile would last through it.

"I want in, and you can get me there. I have sources that tell me you know, and I trust them. If you choose not to tell me, then I will force it out of you. And my methods are foolproof." The small light above us flickered slightly, swaying back and forth.

"It'd have to be foolproof, especially if you were running it. Besides, you can't get me to tell you something I don't know." I tested him, trying to see if his temper would flare.

He just stared at me icily. "You'll pay for that comment later, Shields. My methods of extracting information are extremely painful, and I'll make sure you experience the full extent of what I can do to you," he spat, saying my name as if it was an insult.

Not a great prospect. Time to go.  "Scary... but I wonder, would it hurt more than your pride will when I'm gone? How hard is it to torture a prisoner that isn't there?" I asked offhandedly, standing up and putting my hands onto the desk like he had minutes before. The handcuffs fell to the floor with a clanking noise.