BITE ME. (leo <3)

[ALILEAH KARINA LEE]

If you can't deal with the hurriane

Don't take on the storm.

If one were to try and find The Resistance headquarters, it'd be impossible. First? It was underground. Second? It was in a ruined city, and an 'abandoned' building. It was the perfect place to hide the larger grouped members, and made battle plans much more easier to create, with the help of others. The four story building had been smashed in half, and so the whole top floor was open air. The Resistance had used this area as training grounds, where, even deep into the night, the sound of training could be heard.

The third story was the living quarters. There was no split between male and female. Everyone had their sense of duty, and so there was never disorder, or anything even along this lines, in the rooms. The second was where they held meetings, mapped out plans, and made attacks. The first floor was by far the most frightening. It held equipment of all kinds. A small room, with a window where one could see in but another could not see out, was placed in the direct middle. There was no special name for it, it was simply known as the Interrogation Room.

Ali was on the fourth floor when she received the news of a captive's arrival. It had been a long, uneventful, although this was not the word she would describe for any day in The Resistance, and hot morning. Upstairs, many of the dummies they used for practice targets were broken down with stuffing falling out of their sides. Ali had relentlessly beat on one of them, sweet dripping down her neck as she worked, her gaze locked on her target. A light tap on her shoulder had her spinning around quickly, slamming her hand into whoever it was's stomach and pinning them to the wall.

A slight smile curved her lips when she saw who it was, and she stepped back, unleashing her hair from it's tie. She had heard the news, still with that mocking smile drawn across her lips, and had replied saying she was going to take a shower before going to see this "dangerous" doctor who was supposedly of the Perfect Nation. If it was, this would be a major blow for them and a win for the Resistance. She had taken her time, enjoying the feel of ice cold water beating on her back.

Despite the temperature being about that of the winter's cold air, her body quickly adjusted, one of the many things the Resistance members had learned to do. The pinpricks across her spin and chills that ran through her veins slowly came to a halt, and she enjoyed the feel of water brushing away all her work, if only for fifteen minutes. When she got out, her ebony hair dripping with the clear liquid, she was quick to dress in a full black battle suit of so many hidden pockets for weapons it was crazy. Her hair was tied up in a strict bun to keep the strands from her face, and only once she was sure her appearance didn't suffer, she began the trek to the lower floor.

When she got there, everyone around her straightened up at her arrival. Her laughter split the air, a warning all in itself to act casually, as if she were a mere woman whom they respected. Not the leader. The tension disappeared, and she put on a mask. She was the interrogator, not the head of everything. This was something she had practiced for a very long time, and it wouldn't fail now.

"So who is our dangerous captive?" Her entrancing voice rose over the crowd of men like a heat wave. It drew every gaze in the room to her small body as she made her way across the darkened interior. It was hard to make her out in this darkness, that matched so well with her battle suit it was as if the voice was a ghost. "I have never heard anyone from the Perfect Nation to be called dangerous in our midst. So please, do tell." Her eyes roved the room, landing on the leader of the interrogators. "Markus?" She crooned in question, approaching him with the slow, lethal grace of a panther. He seemed wordless.

"A-a-alileah." He stuttered, his voice dripping with lust. She did all she could to not roll her eyes. She stopped dead in front of him, casually leaning against the door of the interrogation room. One hand reached down, pressing against the cool door knob as she awaited his answer. It came moments later. "He is a doctor. We took special precautions, a-and his hands are tied to the chair. We found some type of injecting material on him, probably what is used to kill off those who the Perfect Nation don't deem fit. He's ready to be interrogate I believe." Nodding, Alileah turned and pushed open the door. "But I don't think you should be the one interrogating." The last sentence surely would reach the ears of their captive.

Ali turned on him like a wolf stalking its prey, her eyes flashing angrily. He drew back slightly, glancing around for some help from his colleagues. He got none. Everyone knew the danger it was to tell Ali they didn't think she owned up to a particular job. "Is it because I am a female, Markus?" She purred, although the anger was well-hidden under a mask of fake, sickly sweet. She clucked her tongue. "Women are such a weak sex, aren't they?" She stated. He didn't dare reply, only stared at her with frightened eyes. Like the rabbit before the kill.

Oh yes, there were rumors about The Resistance leader.

Leaving him time to stew in his own fear, she pushed the door open the rest of the way and slid gracefully in. One hand reached up and flicked on the light, the other closed the door behind her. Instantly, the room filled with fluorescent white, and she blinked against the onslaught of colors. As her vision returned, her eyes sought out the one she was to interrogate. Surely enough, she found him seated at a table, his arms bound tightly to the chair.

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[LEON PARKER BRIGGS]

I’m not supposed to be here, doing this. Why can’t I make you proud some other way? Why do I have to fight…?

Leon. You’ve failed us again.

Blurs. Darkness. Whispered voices. And a throbbing headache. Yeah. Those were some things that you never wanted to wake up to. In a normal case in a normal world it could mean just about anything. Scenario one: you’re a kid and you fall asleep on the car ride home. You’re waking up a little from your parents carrying you inside. The reason for your headache is simple; car sickness. Scenario two: you’re a soldier fighting a war out in the middle of nowhere. You hear shots firing behind you and turn around to meet up with a fist or twenty. The reason for your headache is because you were wounded in battle. And now you’re waking up to God knows what. Surely his parents had come rushing over to carry him to safety. Not this time.

This time he was in a situation where the blackness and blurs were very dangerous. He knew this because he felt that his arms were restricted; bound for the others’ protection. His head was tilted back over the head of a chair uncomfortably and he could taste blood in his mouth. It felt like a cut had been made from his teeth just inside of his lips. It was nothing serious. Thank God.

He wanted to open his eyes but his head kept telling him that if he kept him closed nothing would ever have to be real. It could all be in his head if he didn’t look. If he didn’t look then they could kill him and he would never have to see it coming at him. He would just never open his eyes again and have more darkness. Nothing would ever have to change if he just kept his eyes closed. Everything was silent anyways. He wasn’t trying to concentrate on any of the sound around him (if there was any to begin with). Part of him was just telling him that he was going to end up dead anyways. He was behind enemy lines and they would have killed him in the first place had he gotten the chance to fire a weapon at any of them. He had just happened to knocked out. He had just happened to be alive. He had just happened to be their only living source of… fuck.

He was alive. That meant they wanted something from him. They were going to come see him and drill him with questions and torment him until he gave answers. He wouldn’t give them anything they wanted though. He was tough as nails and would do anything in his power to serve the people that he loved. He never wanted to fight but if this was the only way to prove himself then he would do it. He would put his heart and soul into being a soldier. A soldier that any parent could be proud to say was their son.

He opened his eyes despite the fear.

There was still nothing though, only the empty darkness that he had even seen behind his eyelids. But still he kept his eyes open, waiting for them to adjust to this dim lighting. Surely there was a crack in the wall somewhere to allow a little bit of light inside. He didn’t concentrate on that long though. Now that he was forcing himself to be awake, he had brought his head up and started to hear some muffled sound. Some of it was from above him, things like footsteps and gentle voices. Then outside of the room he could hear people talking as well. None of it made any sense to him though. He couldn’t hear anything perfectly. The words were drowned out by the walls and thumping of his veins. It was useless to try and listen.

But as soon as he tried to quit his ears were filled with sound and some light dripped into the room as a door started to open up.

He listened intently, turning his eyes carefully over in the direction of the door while keeping his chin down. From the conversation between the two it was easy to tell that it would be a woman who was interrogating him. A hard kind of woman, he could guess. One that had seen too many fights in her life and would have no hesitation in doing something to him too. Great. No, he could deal with her. He could also die today. But he wouldn’t die in too much vain. There were only some things that he would regret…

The room filled with a bright, white light and he had to look down completely, forcing his eyes shut as they were shocked from the sudden change in brightness. He could hear the woman’s footsteps and opened up his eyes, slowly letting them adjust. He watched the reflections on his dog tags until the dark circles and dots that his eyes were making finally gave way. Then he lifted his chin and looked up toward the dark haired woman. He made a lazy effort to look over her features but his eyes kept gluing themselves to hers, waiting for her lips to move and words to enter his ears. He didn’t speak. He only stared and waited for her.

TAGS!? alileah - arexy
WORDS!? 901
NOTES!? and done (;

[ALILEAH KARINA LEE]

Everything outside the interrogation room had gone quiet at the calm, angry burst their leader had displayed. The room cleared out, save a few people who loitered around to finish up their remaining duties. Yet soon, they, too, were gone, leaving only the prisoner, and Alileah. She kept her eyes glued to the sheet in front of her, even as she closed the door behind her and took two steps in. She didn't look up until she felt the heavy gaze of someone watching her, and reluctantly lifted her vision until she saw the prisoner. There was no lying; the sight of who it was, who sat there, shocked her beyond words. But she made no move to help him, or to explain, or even to tell him she'd help him out. For years, Ali had been beyond the need of males. She had been above them, out-ranking them, out-fighting them, even her own brother years before her death. One mistake on the battlefield, and now she owed her life to one man.

And he was sitting in her interrogation room.

For the first time in three years, Ali felt a flash of fear, unsure as to what to do, or even if he'd recognize her. But just as quickly as she released her emotion, it was back under firm control, unallowed to seep throw her calm and cold demeanor. She let her eyes drop back to the sheet, of the way they had taken him in, without a fight or a need for drugs to knock him out. She flipped the paper up, just to check and made sure she didn't miss anything, before her cold gaze returned to his face. The only noise in the room was the sound of the paper as she slid it onto the table, reaching across it to press a small button on the underside of the wood. Immediately, the shackles clicked and fell off.

"You aren't dangerous to me in shackles or not." She lifted a thin shoulder, watching him carefully even as she turned around and made her way to the other side of the room. She felt like crying, and Alileah Lee hadn't cried in years. So why now? There really was no answer. On the outside, she looked just as withdrawn and cold as she always had. It was necessary. Every tear shed was a weakness to be turned against you. "They said they didn't hit you, that true? 'Cause if you've got blood in your throat, it's a little hard to talk." She stated, a bit more cheerfully then the situation implied her to be. She pressed her lips together, trying not to feel uncomfortable in the deafening silence. Finally, she took charge, and began talking.

Removing the syringe that had been found on him when they brought him in, she tossed it onto the table. It slid, landing right in front of the prisoner and hanging on the edge of the table. "Just one question. Is that the injection that's used to kill the people who aren't deemed..."fit"?" She questioned, every word harsh.

A trip into the passed, when Ali had been chosen fit and her parents not. That was like being slapped in the face, several times, and then told to spit out the blood and stand up for more. She had a right to be bitter towards him, even if she knew him, owed him her life, owed him everything she was today. Dreya wouldn't have gotten there in time, nor Markus, or anyone high enough on The Resistance latter to know who she was. One of the downfalls of being so secretive.

It was sometimes a pain. But it had also saved her life that day, when he had come and, thinking her military, had saved her life. She had truly regretted leaving him without a thank you or paying him back, and if there was one thing Ali hated the most, it was owing someone a debt. A big debt at that. A debt the size of your life. She refused to look at him again, leaving her back facing him.

Oh, how she wished she had taken Markus's advice now. But the man hadn't known who he was and that he had played a big part in her leadership role, only that he was a military doctor and she...a woman. Men were sexist. A quick glance in the doctor's way, and she vowed not to lay a hand on him even if he spoke disrespectfully towards her. Or if he gave her nothing.

Hire another interrogator to beat him up. She wasn't going to break a promise, which a debt just about equaled to her. Steeling herself against the inevitable knowledge of him knowing who she was, she faced him with a hard mask and waited for his answers.

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[LEON PARKER BRIGGS]

The shackles that were bound around him loosened and then dropped away from him. He felt his chin drop forward when there was suddenly nothing holding his weight up against the seat, but the muscles inside of him tightened and caught him before he even came close to slipping off of the seat or slumping any further in it. The man let his eyes fall closed and his brows furrowed deeply as he tried to think of a reason for this beside what she had said to him. Part of him instantly leapt to the idea that they were just going to go ahead and kill him. He wouldn’t be dangerous when he was dead, right?

Instantly his stomach twisted, a feeling he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop. It was nearly impossible to swallow your fears and suddenly not feel them. No, no, it wasn’t nearly impossible. It really was impossible unless you went through with it and discovered that you weren’t really afraid of it. That wasn’t something you could do with death though. Once you faced that fear you were… well, you were dead. So, no, he couldn’t just ignore the feeling that he was getting. But he could look up and stare it in the eye with all that he had. Being brave didn’t mean that he had to be made of stone, right? Being brave was having the balls to do something despite your fears. He guessed he must have had some guts considering he managed to look back up toward the woman who had decided that he was not dangerous. And in all honesty he wasn’t right now. He wasn’t an idiot so it wasn’t like he was going to jump up and Kill Bill his way through this situation. He would do what he needed to live.

Leon moved his tongue along the inside of his mouth, licking up the spots of blood that he could taste. Most of it had washed away down the back of his throat. He ignored her comment, being sure that he really did not have any spots to worry about suddenly spurting blood. He didn’t. He was alright, and he knew that. The worst that could happen was someone putting a bullet through his head now.

When he heard a clicking sound coming across the table he looked back up, his eyes staring at the syringe that she had tossed across the table. He squinted his eyes at the object thrown in his direction and then back up toward her. There was something strangely familiar about her but his concern with answering her question.

What was she talking about? An injection to kill people who weren’t deemed fit? Leon watched her, keeping himself quiet as he tried to find out what it was that she even talking about. But he found that he couldn’t really… do that. So he simply shook his head at the woman.

“I don’t understand…” he told her in a quiet, calm voice. Then he tilted his head a bit, while looking up toward her. Now that he was finally taking the time to look at her, he felt a memory hit him. “You’re the woman… you’re on their side,” he spoke quietly between the two of them, his eyes briefly glancing over toward the door to listen for any other voices. Then he looked back toward her. He sat up and brought his arms up to inspect them. His fingers ran over his wrists. “You don’t have to do this.” He gave her a soft nod. “Thank you.”

She was the woman that he had saved. She had been hurt and he couldn’t find it in his heart just to leave her lying there, dying. It was not even a difficult decision that he had made. All he had done was made his way over toward her and then taken her with him. They had spent some time with one another but not a lot. No, she had disappeared as soon as she was able to. It had not been something that he had dwelled on either. That was the way things went. Not all things could last forever, you know? And he hadn’t expected her to stick around forever or anything.

TAGS!? alileah - arexy
WORDS!? 712
NOTES!? ----

[ALILEAH KARINA LEE]

While the man stayed quiet, even after the shackles clanked and fell to the around, Ali kept her back to him. Despite knowing what was coming, she still tried her hardest to fight off the inevitable, tooth, nail, and claw. One hand rested on the wall, her chin touching her chest. Her hair created a curtain around her face, but even with the soft reassurance that he couldn't exactly study his features, people had a way of knowing when someone they knew were close. It was just a feeling you got, and since he and her were the only two people on the interrogation floor, it was hard to mistake who you were standing in the room with.

She still tried her damndest.

Her attempt was in vain though, as if she had expected less, and instead of trying to hide, she gathered the courage she had on so many others. People she'd grown up with who had become military, parents of friends who were doctors. She had faced all her past skeletons in this room, and it seemed there would be another to pass. It was a test of wills for others, who waited for their leader to make a fault so they could pounce, like leopards. Most of them were loyal, one reason they were allowed around, but a great many of them only wanted the leadership she held. So making a mistake was out of the question.

She straigtened, her movements graceful, gaining that predatory look she had always had. Ever since the rising of the resistance. It was hard to miss the tense muscles of her shoulders, but she forcibily pushed herself to relax, her thin shoulders rising once, almost a habit of hers that she did when she was nervous. She ran her fingers through her ebony hair, the only feminine gesture Ali ever had displayed, and it hadn't gone away since her adolescence years.

She finally faced him. It was her biggest nightmare, too, because during her recovery, she had always relaxed around him. Been able to talk to him, even if half the time it was dry humor and sarcastic remarks. She had liked him, and very few people ever fell in Alileah's graces. It was a rare circumstance. He had understood her gratitude, even if she had been slightly hostile to him during the beginning stages. She actually wished, during the time, that she hadn't had to go back. To lead the resistance.

His words sliced through her like a dagger, though. 'you don't have to do this.' She never explained her reasons to prisoners, but she had a hard time seeing Leon as a prisoner. He came close to being a friend, and that was what scared her the most. But she ignored the warnings she felt and walked towards him, pushing out a chair to sit at the table. Only when she was seated did she reply, her gaze falling on his. "I do have to do this. It's my job and what I fight for." It came out more bitter then she had intended, and only the press of her fingernails into her palm kept her from flinching.

Ali was a strong female, the main reason to why she was the leader. The Resistance couldn't afford having a week leader, and so she'd naturally been the choice. As to why this one man could make her want to, for once, not be a leader, she had no idea. It was like when she was a little girl and daddy used her as his own puppet.

Oh no, that sure as hell was not her anymore. Not anymore, and never would that weak child come back. But she did owe this man at least her trust and her care, although it was against everything in her nature. So despite her experience telling her everyone betrayed, even this man who had saved her life, she flicked her gaze away, almost a submissive act, and forced her hands to uncurl. The dark blues of her eyes turned to inspect her skin. Sure enough, three small indents, crescent shaped, were carved into her skin.

She continued to do the same to her opposite hand, pressing her eyes tightly together once. When she had successfully managed to quiet every little protest that flared up, even when she was this close to the man, she straightened up slightly and turned her gaze back to him. "Did they hurt you at all?" She had managed to soften her voice, even if it was only slightly.

Everything was less hostile then before. It was all about self-control these days, wasn't it? How well you could control your emotions, how much you could back from others. Ali had mastered all of those skills years ago, so why was it such a pain now? It seemed she had been running in circles, always coming back to the same question in her mind.

Why did she trust him so much? It was a simple answer, hard to grasp but still there - because he had saved her despite every other duty he most likely had. For that, she felt almost...loyal, to him. At the very least responsible for his well-being. What was the saying, a life for a life? An eye for an eye?

"But I still need to know," She paused, once again dropping her gaze, this time to the sharp needle laying on the desk. "If this is what we have been looking for, and even if I do owe you something..." Another pause. "I need to know this more then I need to give you back what you gave me."

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[LEON PARKER BRIGGS]

There was a shift in their atmosphere. Compared to when she had first walked in and now. It was only moments before it had been all combat boots and claws out but now he could feel some of that harshness peeling back. It naturally brought up some curiosities inside of him but Leon kept his lips pressed firmly together and used the power of observation for the time being.

She had turned to face him now, still holding her best as he watched her. Now that she had turned around and was able to watch him, Leon lowered his eyes to the table and then slowly lifted up his hands from his lap. They never crossed the invisible line between her range of vision and the table top though and instead stayed underneath where he was sure it may have came off as suspicious but she already knew that he had nothing on him to use as a weapon and he was in no spot to even do something like that. He was no crazy activist for this movement in the Perfect Nation. He wasn’t about to blow himself up for them when he could clearly find some kind of loop hole here. If he could manage to stay alive he was going to. He didn’t want to die and be forgotten. He wanted to go home and be able to make the people he loved smile and be proud. Blowing himself to bits by trying to fight his way out of this wouldn’t bring any smiles or joy on his family’s part.

The only reason for his actions was because he now had his fingers running over the wrists on each arm one at a time. He could feel the tenderness beneath the skin; it had yet to show any colors of bruising except for the pale irritable skin where the shackles had once held him steady. His inspection was short lived and he let his hands fall back to his knees where he slowly rubbed his palms against his thighs. He was grateful to find that there was nothing wrong there. He hadn’t suffered a great deal of damage at all as far as he could tell. The only injury that he was completely aware of was the one on the inside of his lip from taking a punch to the face earlier. On the outside it felt a little heavy so there was a slight possibility of swelling though he wasn’t sure. Injuries could trick you like that. You could have felt like your head was bleeding when really it just hurt that badly. Whenever he ran his tongue over the open cut inside he could still get the strong taste of blood, however, he could tell that the bleeding had come to a halt.

Leon let his earthy blue stare come back up to meet hers when she took a seat across from him at the table finally. He looked back with eyes unmoving and was so still that it was almost impossible to tell that he was even breathing unless you dared reach over and place your hand over his heart. That muscle was not so hard at work at the moment and had managed to slow down with the rest of him. It was the perk of being the kind of person he was and being a soldier. He guessed that being raised by two very calm people managed to help out with that too as well as being the eldest of his parents’ children. He had learned patience a long time ago. And in battle he had learned to play dead. It came in handy a lot.

His tongue raked the inside of his teeth when she asked her question, his brain automatically recalling the cut in his lip. But he shook his head at her, giving her the negative sign deciding to let them get away with something as small as that. A cut in the lip was child’s play compared to the rest of this endless feeling war. He let the silence creep over them again, feeling no need to fill it in with idle chatter and small talk. This wasn’t the place for that; he wasn’t safe at home with friends or family or out on a date. He hadn’t done any of that in years. He had been out here trying to keep out of the reach of the likes of people who fought with her. At least this added something to his life. It was a little twist he didn’t expect to happen in a place and time like this one. Not that it was fun but it was… something.

It was something to make him stop and think of all the possibilities out in the world. All the crazy, unpredictable, frightening possibilities.

It was back to the needle again. Had he recalled how to use the muscles in his face correctly he might have furrowed his brow at her. But he didn’t even attempt it. The brainwash of a soldier’s life was burrowed in him hard and the emotions stayed dry from his face and his voice hardly helped bring anything out with it. When he spoke the words were smooth, simple, and to the point. There was no stuttering and it was almost like talking to a very well sounding robot.

“It’s a vaccine, obviously. Tetanus vaccine. We do carry a variety of medical equipment for our soldiers’ safety and well being, after all, as I am sure that anyone would try to do.”

He folded his hands up on the table now so that she could watch them if she wanted as well as for the sake of being somewhat comfortable.

“We don’t carry any kind of vaccinations with us that do any real harm to people. Our doctors are with us to keep us alive. So I’m afraid I cannot help you in finding your mystery drug, ma’am.”

TAGS!? alileah - arexy
WORDS!? 994
NOTES!? ----

[ALILEAH KARINA LEE]

Frustration. She had expected it when she had realized who this man was. It came now, unexpectedly at his reply, and despite her attempt to bite back the sigh, it came anyway. Her eyelids closed over her eyes, hiding the mess of emotions that covered the irises. It was obvious he didn't even need to try to be passive. Perhaps that was what annoyed her the most - that she battled so hard with her emotions while he could easily put on a calm face. But despite the anger that flared up - against herself, not him - she managed to keep an emotionless face when her eyes flicked open and rested on him. The silence didn't bother her, in fact, she welcomed it.

It reminded her of when she had been on the field dying. Of him, and with that came the unbidden flow of memories and she had to bite her tongue from snapping at his reply. Frustrating, oh how frustrating it all was. His movements under the table drew her attention soley back to him, his lie ringing clearly in her ears. She lifted her shoulders, a reply without words that she knew they had done something. Although she knew she owed him a harder attempt to find out how real the damage was, she let it fall, her own shortcut out of the stupid loyalty she felt towards him.

Sitting still was killing her. She stood up, pushing the table slightly forward, but she had already turned, pacing back to the clear window. His reply rang in her ears, leaving her to fight back the onslaught of anger that bit at her. They had captured him for nothing. Nothing.

For a moment, she felt that anger dim, and turned to see his hands on the table, watching her quietly. Giving him an odd glance, she moved forward, taking the syringe from the table. A curse left her lips as she realized the truth in his statement. "Damnit." She closed her eyes, turning away from him once more. It seemed a habit now, giving him her back. At least it realeased her from the guilt for several seconds.

Although the anger didn't go away. Without looking, she threw the syringe strongly at the wall. Though it made a loud ring as it slammed into the steel of the wall, she didn't turn to see where it landed, grabbing the phone from the wall and pressing it to her ear. On the other end, Markus answered.

"Did he have it?" It was obvious he was still slight cautious from his last talk-down. Despite her current situation, a slight smile curved on her lips. She sent a glance at Leon, her grip tightening on the phone as she did so.

"No. I'm going to see if he knows anything else, though." She didn't bother lowering her voice, not caring whether he heard her or not. She doubted he'd make it out of the headquarters alive without her help, and if he didn't help her, she couldn't do much for him. On the other end, Markus complied and she hung up. The room rang with silence.

Ali clung to it, keeping her back to the prisoner. But when the conversation came inevitable, she turned and slowly made her way back to her chair. One glance was spared towards the wall, where the syringe had exploded against the sheer solidy-made wall. On the floor, it lay broken, rolling softly towards the door. But in the second it had taken to gather all this information, she turned her attention back to the doctor.

"Karma's a bitch." The words were almost a truce. She kept her eyes on him, watching for any reaction to her words, but she didn't wait long, sliding the papers she had shown him earlier back towards her. "I need to know -" She paused to study him before starting over. "I need to know about the shot. The shot that is given to outsiders entering the city. Do you know anything about it? Or even what it is?" It certainly wasn't an interrogation method, but maybe it would work better then a few scars on his back to remind him who The Resistance was. If anything, Ali would intervene on that type of information extraction. She herself had had that done, and it hurt a hell of a lot more then what usually happened on the battlefield.

As many of the resistance did, she had the scars to prove her story.

“We don’t carry any kind of vaccinations with us that do any real harm to people. Our doctors are with us to keep us alive. So I’m afraid I cannot help you in finding your mystery drug, ma’am.”

For some odd reason the words angered her. Instead of leashing it back in, she slammed a fist on the table, tilting her head town so her dark hair fell almost in a curtain around her face. "Don't carry a vaccination that do any real harm? Then why the hell do one of every ten citizens survive the initiation into the city? Why don't you explain that to me, sir?"

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