The League

Chapter 3 - Database and Exchange

Phoenix didn't know exactly what he'd been expecting, but waking up on the floor of a locked room didn't surprise him much. He sat up slowly, his shoulder throbbing with pain from Kate's kick. He brushed his hand along his neck and felt a tiny wound from the injection. He wasn't mad about any of it; she was only doing her job.

The room was square, and he sat cross-legged on the ground with his back against a wall. Everything was blindingly white: the walls, the lights in the ceiling, the ceiling itself, the armored door, and even the cuff on his wrist that he couldn't take off. It was likely a monitor to alert them if he did something, and he knew it could've been worse. At least they hadn't shoved him into a straitjacket.

The wall across from him contained a viewing window. On the other side of the glass was a room, smaller than this one, with a clock on the wall, a table, and a few chairs. Kate sat in one of them, focused on her laptop, and he could tell by how often she looked at the clock that she was getting impatient.

He hadn't made any effort to catch her attention, and besides waving at him when he first woke up, she'd made no effort to catch his. A half-hour passed in silence, but the anticipation made it feel like an entire day. When were they going to talk to him? It was agonizing to be right here, so close to the moment he always knew was coming, and to have to wait just a little longer.

The door suddenly clicked and swung inward. The woman who walked in came alone, an ID clipped to her pocket. Her dark skin wrinkled as she narrowed her eyes and thoughtfully tapped the empty holster at her hip.

Phoenix held up his cuffed wrist. "I'm not dangerous."

"Danger is a matter of perspective."

"And since I'm in here," he said carefully, "I'm guessing your perspective of me is that I'm dangerous?"

She waved an arm around the room. "This was a matter of precaution. We didn't want to give you anything to destroy or throw."

Destroy. They really did think he was a criminal. Phoenix stood slowly, trying to appear amicable. "I can explain."

"Good." She turned around. "Come."

He followed her through the door, her ID catching his eye. The League emblem was watermarked over her picture, and underneath that was her title: Director Hazel Diop. Phoenix swallowed; the directors were the heads of the League bases. Why was someone so important dealing with something as insignificant as tracker issues?

Was he that much of a problem?

The other room was also white but somehow brighter; it was starting to hurt his eyes. There was a folder at the head of the table, and Hazel sat down in front of it. Phoenix took the chair next to her, across from Kate, who closed her laptop and crossed her arms over her chest.

He met both their gazes evenly. What happened next was out of his hands; all he could do was tell the truth, and they would do what they wanted with it. There was nothing to screw up, so he was calm. He hoped everything would be okay.

Hazel opened the folder and flipped through what was in it. Phoenix caught glimpses of the contents, recognizing a documentation of his apartment lease and his DMV profile. A copy of his birth certificate was there, too, but Hazel skimmed right over it. He held back a smile; she'd be paying close attention to it soon.

Hazel clasped her hands on the table. "What did you do to our trackers?"

"I think you know that already," he said.

Kate tilted her head. "I found it strange that everyone we sent after you came back blaming the same villain, one we've never heard of. They could never explain beyond that. It took us a while to figure it out." She smiled. "Kudos for making it so far."