The One Who Left | In Progress

{ Ch. 1 }

Tap... tap... tap...

The sound of the pen surrounds the interrogation room: the place they put me when they realized that I was Endgame. The infamous, unknown hacker. Not that they knew for sure but suspicion was growing in the NYPD. Too bad I was already spoken for by the FBI.

Tap... tap... tap...

I endure the silent room with a expressionless face. Eyes dull, my head held high. Ears ringing of sounds made long ago; namely the sound of them breaking down a motel door after tracking my location through a stupid fucking tracker that I never knew I had. I knew using their equipment would get me caught - ugh, rookie mistake.

Tap... tap... tap...

Lifeless and hopeless, I've accepted my fate, karma finally caught me - the lies lay on my tongue just waiting for an excuse to slip out but I keep quiet.
My excuses were there to let myself and the police department think I was regretting my decisions even though I everyone knew I wasn't sorry for anything. I was doing a favor for stupid Wilkins damnit, I wasn't supposed to end up in a freaking police station.

Tap... tap... tap...

"Ms Kade my patience is running out with you. There is no way to prove your innocence if you don't say anything. You know how much your bail costs." A police officer says tiredly.
I think he said he was Detective Jones.
I hold my tongue, thinking of ways to get revenge on the idiots I called backup.

Tap... tap... tap...

I do something I never thought I'd do - something I swore never to do, but that was useless now, i needed to get out of here immediately - before anyone starts asking questions about what I was doing. Luckily they caught me just as I erased the USB.

"I want my phone call." I say, my voice leaving them in a state of shock. It's not a question, like a girl my age would make - it's a demand. An order. And for the first time I've gotten into this godforsaken room - I stop tapping.

My eyes flash a violent silver. "Now."

The all too familiar officer, Wilkins, runs out of the door bringing back a cellphone in minutes - a hidden grin on her face. Still a record for donut eating police officers.
I dial the numbers with a purpose. A girl on a mission.

"What do you want."

The voice on the phone growls out. It's most probably one of his many assistants.
"It's Lilah." The person on the other end of the line scrambles. Ready to shit themselves as they give the phone to him.

"Delilah?" A familiar voice answers the phone. My lips involuntarily tug up. "Hello father."

"Are you alright? What happened?" Derek Sterling's voice comes through the phone frantic and anxious.

I can't blame him. This is the first time we've spoken since 8 years ago. I still can't believe I'm doing this.

"New York Police Department. One hour." I hang up sliding the phone across the table.

Jones and Wilkins leave the interrogation room soundlessly taking me with them. Locking me up in a holding cell. They know there is no way I'm staying or talking to them.
The pen clicks resuming it's previous activity.

Tap... tap... tap...

It's gonna be a long 60 minutes.

***

"It is advisable to keep her there for a while longer Mr Sterling." I recognise that voice anywhere. "Detective." I warn. Police Officer Detective Williams chuckles.