The Boarding School

Final Chance

Allison Ponde

"Over a hundred are in custody waiting trial with no bail," an official reported as soon as Ally entered the base building where her and several other teams set up camp to supervise the riot.

"Good," Ally took out her ear piece and handed it to a tech guy, "Glad to hear it. Lucas!"

"Yes, ma'am?" Scott whirled around in his chair and stopped when he faced her.

"Anything come that would interest me?"

"As far as Mercy suspects? No," Scott turned back towards his computer, "We did get quite a few facial recognition hits on our system and we even have a few in custody. I think as we continue to comb the footage, we'll get some idea of what covert exchanges went down, but we have nothing solid so far."

"Let me know as soon as you know anything I can quote," Ally instructed, heading for the door.

"But, Ally - " Scott called her back hesitantly, "There is something else."

Sensing the discreet tone in his voice, she came over. "What is it?" she asked in a low voice. With a few deft keystrokes, Scott brought up a picture of Thomas. The time stamp stated it was taken only a few hours before. It was not the best quality, but Ally knew exactly where it was. "Do we know for certain he was one of the rioters?" she asked without much doubt.

Scott rewound the footage and showed it to her, then pulled up another clip, then another. "I configured it best I could to follow his movements. As far as I can tell, he was one of the masked kids up in the fire escape." He pointed to the group of kids on the landing. "The biometrics match up as far as I can measure."

"Those stupid kids," Ally muttered under her breath, shaking her head, and turning away.

"If you need a ride up to LMBS, I can take you," Scott offered.

"LM - ?" Ally's brows furrowed.

"Lucas Mansion Boarding School. I know Thomas attends school there and the property belongs to my family. I go up there from time to time for nostalgic's sake. I can take you up today."

"Yeah," she nodded, "Pack up and meet me at the car in twenty. Where'd you park?"

"Alley by 49th," Scott replied, ctrl-W-ing his windows and shutting down. Twenty-minutes later on the dot, he leaned against his car patiently.

Ally strolled over. "This your car?"

"Yes," he opened the front door.

She smiled, slightly confused and definitely surprised by this act of chivalry. "It's a nice car."

Scott shrugged shyly, walking around and climbing in on the other side, "Courtesy of my parents."

"Yeah?" she asked, "I guess they have ears in Washington?"

"Yes, that they do," Scott nodded. Again, uncomfortable topic. He recognized his privilege. With parents of influence, it was a given he'd receive a permit for a luxury car. Ally, here, worked over hours, had a brother to take care of, no parents, but she wouldn't receive a permit for a new car until her old car died beyond fixing. And while she had to be careful to drive safe and prove why most her miles were significant for her job to justify the additional gallons of gas she needed, Scott could almost go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted. He also didn't have GPS tracking on his car like everyone else. It wasn't fair, that's for sure, but you wouldn't hear either of them complaining.

Ally sighed in the passenger seat. She leaned back comfortably. "This one really got out of hand," she murmured.

"As opposed to?" Scott prodded apathetically. To him, this was another riot egged on by assets of the agency to further the anger and chaos. What was beyond him was how from crowds of anarchist issued forth, with their support, a new totalitarian, socialistic reign of bureaucrats.