Air Locked

Outcry One

July 2221

If there was one thing Cruz wanted, it was to have a more interesting career. While his current position as the Head Interrogation Officer of the Premier's private task force was a prestigious one, he was not offered much stimulation. When he was just another rookie, he enjoyed picking at the mind of whatever criminal that was pushed into his care. As time wore on, however, he simply stopped finding challenges in the mundane people who were greedy, uninteresting, insane, or all of the above.

Don't get him wrong, being the boss had its advantages. Cruz particularly liked taking home the leftover banana chocolate chip muffins that one of the more talented employees made on a weekly basis because he was required to be the last out of the office. Despite whatever the other employees may be led to believe, he thought that they were divine examples of the culinary arts.

Cruz sighed blissfully upon thinking of the muffins, but pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he turned back to his work. Papers were strewn across the desk in a pattern that only he could decipher— which honestly is not so much a pattern as it is an unorganized mess. He shuffled through a couple documents, signing some quickly and filling in information on others. Cruz became so absorbed in his work that he did not register the door to his office sliding open.

"Hey Mr. York, I got something for you," the brunette in the doorway said. Cruz looked up at him with a blank face.

"If you thr--" Cruz was interrupted by a thick folder colliding with his face and breaking his reading glasses. In the moment after, two things happened. The first being Cruz's string of curses directed at Neil—the brunette—and the other, a muted thump as the folder landed in his lap.

"Catch the assignment!" Neil shouted, having tossed the object at his boss—the said boss was very unhappy with him at the moment. Recognizing Cruz's ire, he slowly backed out of the room. Only to come back in armed with an extra pair of glasses. He held it out to him, "You are so bad at catching assignments. Good thing you aren't on the Security Threat Apprehension Board.... Anyway, you need to review that and go to interrogation room one. Orders from the boss-man, well, boss-woman, but you know—same difference. It's apparently some big wig in the Free Skies Movement."

Slipping on the glasses, Cruz opened the folder to be greeted by the face of an older man with a tanned face and an onset of wrinkles beginning to form around his eyes and mouth. If it wasn't for the sparse rugged scarring that lined his face, one would assume him to be an ordinary middle aged man. Which in itself was odd, as old age is hard to come by in the modern world. He pushed the photo aside, scanning through the information.

Jase Bisset, confirmed affiliate of Free Skies Movement Terrorist Cell, was a well-built man with a sound head on his shoulders. He was particularly known for being able to create ingenious plans and pull off seemingly impossible escapes on the spot. Cruz briefly wondered how the Task Force managed to get a hold of him in the first place, but passed onto the assignment logistics as he began his route to the interrogation room. The main objective, as he had assumed, was to extract information on the movements of the terror cell and confirm a set of various unclaimed terror attacks.

"Simple enough," Cruz murmured to himself and stopped just outside of the interrogation room. Two armed guards came out of the room to greet him. He presented his identification to the first guard while the second scanned his eyes, ears, and fingerprints. After a quick pat down, they finally allowed him to enter the room.

The door quickly shut itself behind him, leaving an echoing clang to fill the room. Unsurprised and uninterested, Bisset sat slumped in his seat while his shadow played against the charcoal wall behind him. Cruz sat down across from Bisset. He looked run-down with long, dark hair hanging on his shoulders and handcuffs chaining him to the table in front of him.