A Visit to CPC

A Shocking Welcome

"All yours," he says.

"Ja," says one of the folks in tyvek, heading for the door.

"Follow me please," says Ilyana to Marda.

Dutifully following the officer, Marda notes, "Wow!  What happened here?"

The man does not seem inclined to answer, and merely does his best to keep Nigel and Marda moving towards the elevator.  After a few seconds pause, the woman answers instead.  "It's nothing for you to worry about, little bear, just routine.  We have to make certain that everything is all right in there before we can send you back.  Your tata may have gotten mixed up with some bad people by mistake.  We want to make sure that he doesn't get into any trouble."

The four arrive at the elevator.  Ilyana pushes the button and the doors open instantly to reveal two more women, dressed much as the man and Ilyana are.

"Been holding it for you," says one of the women, and both step out into the hallway, leaving room for Ilyana, Marda, Nigel, and the man to get in.  Ilyana steps in immediately, but the man waits until Marda and Nigel are both inside before stepping in.  The two women who were in the elevator both walk off down the hall towards Marda's room.

After a quick and uneventful trip downstairs, the doors open to reveal two more individuals dressed like the others - another man and another woman.  These two fall in on either side of the group, essentially surrounding Nigel and Marda in the middle.  Looking around the hotel lobby, no other acquaintances are in evidence.  The hotel staff is studiously avoiding looking anywhere near where the group is, but other tourist types are gawking.

Looking out the glass front doors of Cesar's, the pair can see a large black van, completely bereft of markings, and two black lincoln continentals, equally unmarked, parked at the taxi stand.  Somehow, neither Marda nor Nigel gets the feeling that they are taxis.

Marda gives Nigel a sort of suspicious inquiring look, but generally allows herself to be prodded towards the 'transportation'.  "What kind of trouble is Tata in?  Some people were really mean to him and Teddy before and you can't let it happen again."

Nigel gives Marda a reassuring pat on the shoulder.  "I'm sure everything will work out fine."  Nigel's eyes seem to say something entirely different...

Marda and Nigel are escorted out the doors of Cesars and up to the back of the van.  Another dark suited woman pops open the back doors, revealing an interior that looks exactly like that of a police van (two benches - one on either side, with stanchions for manacles and/or handcuffs, no windows save for a small grille that apparently leads to the driver's area - no handcuffs or manacles are in evidence, however).

"Hop in," says Ilyana.  "It isn't quite as uncomfortable as it looks."

Marda shrugs and scrambles up into the odd vehicle.  In short order Nigel and Marda are loaded into the van.  Ilyana and the man hop in, and the doors slam.

The trip is uneventful, and lasts around ten minutes.  Nobody in the back feels any great need to say much of import.  The rear of the van doesn't have any windows, so neither Marda nor Nigel get to find out much about where they are and Ilyana and the man seem uninterested in acting as tour guides in any event.

In the end the van angles downwards for a moment, then comes to a halt.  The engine dies and the muffled sounds of human voices can be heard.  Ilyana and the man seem to tense a bit and watch both Marda and Nigel carefully.  Someone outside opens the doors (a police officer dressed in riot gear, as it turns out) and the man says, "OK, step out of the van you two." and nods his head in that direction.  From what the pair can see they are in some sort of underground parking garage with numerous police officers in it, going about their duties.  Two, in full riot gear save for the shields, are waiting outside the doors of the van.  They both seem to be wearing some sort of bulky backpack, and are holding something like long cattle prods in their hands.  These prods are connected by cables to the backpacks.

"Once you're out of the van, put your hands on your heads.  And don't even think about causing trouble," he continues.

Marda just looks plaintively at the men in strange suits and says, "But I can't hold Teddy if I've got my hands above my head."

The man waggles a finger at Marda, and when he speaks it is in a rather kindly voice.  It appears as though he is actually trying to be pleasant, though it equally seems that he hasn't had a lot of practice lately.

"Kid, because you seem like an all right sort, and because I happen to be in a pretty good mood at the moment I am going to repeat myself."  He speaks the next words slowly.  "Get. Out. Of.  The van.  Put.  Your hands.  Up."  His voice takes on a stern tone.  "Don't.  Cause.  Trouble."  He glances over at Nigel.  "That goes for you too," he says.

"I'll hold your bear," Ilyana chimes in.  "Just leave it on the seat when you get out."

Marda turns to Ilyana.  "Sorry, I think you're really nice and all, but the last time I left Teddy on a chair, somebody cut him up real bad and if Mr. Funnyclown wasn't such a good doctor, he probably would have..." The last word kind of chokes up in her throat and she has to pause for a few moments before she turns to the man and continues.

"I promise I'll be good and won't cause any trouble, but you gotta let Teddy stay with me all the time.  If you don't like it, you can draw your own picture."

The man nods slightly to one of the goons outside, who instantly lunges forward with the object in his hands.  Marda, caught by surprise and confined by the small area of the van, nonetheless makes a valiant effort to avoid the incoming prod, but fails.  There is an audible "SNAP" as the prod connects, and Marda's small body convulses, drowning her scream of anguish and pain before it can more than begin.  She crashes to the floor, twitching and writhing, and Mr. Teddy flies across the interior of the van to land squarely in Nigel's lap.  Marda's limbs and head beat a tattoo on the metal floor while horrible, animal gurgling noises issue from her frothing, bleeding mouth; and the twin smells of ozone and urine fill the van.

The goon immediately turns his attention to Nigel, ignoring Marda's horrible spasms on the floor.  The man also focuses on Nigel, raising one eyebrow eloquently.  Ilyana, on the other hand, seems transfixed by the twitching form on the floor.  As Marda's convulsions slowly subside she slips into blessed unconsciousness, lying limp as a rag doll on the floor.

"Jesus!" Ilyana exclaims, " You're a real bastard!"

"Yeah, I am," replies the man without rancor, "now shut the fuck up."

He looks at Nigel with very little interest, "Well, baby-sitter - you wanted to come.  Now move your ass out of the van or you'll be joining the kid on the floor."

Nigel gives the man a wry smile, at the same time raising his hands.  "But of course, I see how you dealt with the child, very brave of you."  Nigel keeps his eyes locked with the man's as he steps out of the van...

"Goddamn it, she's just a kid," Ilyana says, still staring at Marda, as Nigel tries to negotiate the exit of the van.

"Fuck you, Ilya," replies the man, "that's bullshit and you know it."  He reaches out with a toe and prods Marda.  There is no response.  "She looks like a kid, and maybe she is a kid, but she is not JUST a kid."

Nigel succeeds in exiting the door about this time, and is unceremoniously grabbed by one of the goons and efficiently handcuffed.  While this is occurring, the man continues to lecture.  "If she can put together even this much of a Type 12 then who knows what she is!  She might be an amok, an ugly, a cloak, a mind worm, or god knows what else!  And until we find out what she is, we assume that she's VERY dangerous, just like a bomb.  Now pull yourself together and do your job, or go back to the Loyal Defenders.  If you want to stay in CPC you had better learn to deal with the harsh reality.  Now pick that brat up and lets go."  He rises, steps over Marda's prone form, and hops out of the van.  Ilyana scoops up Mr. Teddy, then Marda, and exits the van after him.  By this time he has walked over to stand, regarding Nigel.

"I'm not brave," he says in a conversational tone of voice.  "I do my job, that's all.  Brave people tend to die... very, very quickly.  And most times they don't accomplish shit while they're doing it.  They throw their lives away for nothing, all because they're brave."  He looks Nigel up and down, wearing a very good imitation of Nigel's wry smile.

"Are you brave...  Scarab?" he asks, his voice silky smooth.

Nigel gives the man a slightly bewildered look.  "Let's just say that my sense of self-preservation allows me a certain lattitude in dealing with people.  I would much prefer 'intelligence' to 'bravery'."

The man smiles wider.  "Good," he replies.  "I much prefer smart baby-sitters to brave ones."  He turns and motions to Ilyana and the two goons.  "Lets move it out," he says.
 

The Center

The party gets into the elevator, which rises three floors (Nigel notes that there are five floors to the building, plus three basement levels, of which the parking garage is the first).  The doors open to reveal a small waiting area with a glass cage, a sliding metal drawer, and a large metal door on the opposite wall.  There are three cameras in the room as well.  Through the glass Nigel can see a middle eastern woman dressed in khakis and a veil.  Behind her is a large, partitioned room that looks like something out of any cop show Nigel has ever seen.

"Well, well - the terror twins return," she says with an unmistakable Al Amarjan accent.  She waves a hand bedecked with jeweled rings and bracelets.  "What treasures have you brought for me today?"  She seems totally unfazed by the unconscious form of Marda.

"One suspect in the Dart case for analysis," the man hooks a thumb in Ilyana and Marda's direction, "and one burger accessory for interview, deposition, and debrief." he hooks the same thumb in Nigel's direction.  He then reaches into his jacket and pulls out Marda's dohickey.  "One type 12, partially assembled also submitted as evidence.  The folks at forensics are going over the room now - they ought to be bringing in more later."

"OK, you two know the drill."  The metal drawer snaps open.  "Guns in the drawer, please - evidence bag too."

The man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a snub nosed .357 magnum.  Ilyana withdraws a 9 mm Parabellum Lüger from a shoulder holster.  The two goons, rather than give up their big shock prods, simply get back into the elevator.  Guns and evidence bag go in the drawer, which snaps shut again.  The metal door then opens up, accompanied by a loud BUZZZZZZZZZ and everyone steps inside of what turns out to simply be a small room about the size of a normal elevator with another door on the other side.  There are several cameras here too.  The group waits for about a minute, during which time Nigel feels momentary bouts of mild nausea, and Marda moans once.  Then the other door pops open.  Behind it is the CPC squad room, but closer is a desk on which several monitors and some other fancy electronic gear sit.  Behind the desk is an Asian woman with thick glasses and stringy hair - she looks like a Chinese nerd.  She is whistling to herself.  She looks up at the group and grins, showing crooked, unbrushed teeth.  She waves a finger at Nigel.

"You been very naughty boy," she says with an atrocious oriental accent, then swivels to look at the man.  "There's something with girl, can't tell what yet.  But look at this!"  she taps the screen.

"Remember, smart - not brave," the man says to Nigel, then walks over behind the desk.  He looks at the screen a moment, then whistles.  The woman chuckles.

"You like?" she asks.

"Fuck yeah, I like.  You're lookin' at my vacation there on that screen." the man replies.  He looks up at Ilyana, then around the room.

"Khaki officer," he says in a loud voice, and one appears, almost by magic.  The man points at Marda's still unconscious form.  "Put the kid in lockup, and have someone from medical take a look at her.  While your on the horn to medical I'll need a phlebotomist for a blood draw in interrogation...  hey, Darva!  Which interrogation room is open?"

"Two," the middle eastern woman replies.

"Interrogation room two.  Also an exorcist - see if you can get that buddhist guy, and for gods sake don't send me the voodoo priestess again, she gives me the creeps!"

The khaki officer takes Marda and heads off towards the bowels of CPC with her inert form.  Ilyana keeps hold of Mr. Teddy however, and is watching the man with curiosity.

"Time to continue your education, Ilya.  Tell me what you make of this," the man says.  Ilyana walks over and looks at the screen as well.  Her face screws up in concentration for a moment, then her expression turns to one of surprise.

"HIM?" she says incredulously.  "He's WAY too old!"

"I'm tellin' you, Lucys are everywhere.  It ain't just the Glorious Lords anymore."  The man turns to look at Nigel.  "How long have you been a satanist, babysitter?"

Nigel stares incredulously at the man "Pardon me did you say 'satanist'? What on earth gave you an idea like that?  Some sort of readout on your little screen there?  Do you mean those turban clad fellows back at the bar?

A  hard look which seems to promise near infinite discomfort should he continue to babble, encourages Nigel to continue cogently and concisely.

Nigel thinks for a moment.  "Now I did have some sort of altercation with some fellow claiming to be an old friend of mine, and he did posess some knowledge of me from my school days, but I failed to recognize him.  He seemed to conjure some sort of deviant insect that inflicted numerous bites upon my person.  Other than that and my detrimental liason with the child, I've been trying to enjoy my vacation here.  I assure you I'll cooperate fully, as you seem to have all manner of devices available to detect falsehood," Nigel looks the man squarely in the eyes, "and as I've said, I hold self-preservation to be the most noble of qualities..."

"You just keep telling yourself that, Lucy," the man snarls, "You fucking well inscribe that on your forehead.  If you are lucky, I mean really fucking lucky, AND you are telling us the truth, the whole truth, and absolutely posi-fucking-lutely NOTHING BUT the truth, then maybe you will get to walk out of here in a few days.  You'll be a bit sore and short of sleep, but it'll pass  But if you lie, even a tiny little lie, by omission or commission, any way at all, I'll bust your fucking balls and have you begging me to feed 'em to you for breakfast.  And if you walk out of here at all you will be so fucking changed that your mother wouldn't recognize you.  We will break you down into a bunch of little pieces and put you back together again any damn way we feel like it."

He turns to the khaki officer.  "Add an 'extremely dangerous' tag to his file.  When Ilyana is done with him put him in high security isolation with all the bells and whistles."  He turns to Ilyana.  "Get this puke out of my sight.  Don't bother with the interview right now - just a blood draw and a warding on the cell.  I need a cigarette."  He stalks off into the recesses of the squad room.
 

Less Savoury Accommodations

After being dressed up, Nigel is led through not one but three security gates, then down a long row of metal cell doors.  These are not barred, but are of solid metal, with only small grilles through which food can be slipped.  The place is somewhat dank, and Nigel can hear the murmur of voices from behind some of the doors.  In one cell someone is screaming - a wild, despairing sound that just seems to go on forever until it stops as cleanly as if a switch were thrown.  Manic laughter comes from a second cell, and fervent prayer from a third.  Most of the cells, however, seem to be empty.  The khaki officer opens one, and Nigel is led inside.

The cell is small, only around 8'x8'x8' - Ilyana and one of the goons wait outside in the hallway.  There is a bare mattress, a toilet, and a sink, but no other furniture.  The room is illuminated, almost blindingly so, by a single 200 watt bulb sitting behind a safety glass enclosure.  A second safety glass enclosure surrounds a camera, set up in one corner of the ceiling.  Another corner of the ceiling is taken up by a metal box that hums - not loudly, but just loudly enough to be irritating.

The khaki officer backs out of the room, followed by the goon, and a young, rather attractive black woman whom Nigel has never seen before enters.  She is wearing colorful jamaican garb, and carrying a live chicken in each hand.  There is a cloth bag tied to the sash at her waist and two rattles are stuck in her sash as well.  She is wearing an id tag identifying her as a CPC officer on a light chain around her neck.

"You go sit onna mattress, boy," she says to Nigel.  "Be good an' we don' haf to bring down no big juju on you head, now."

Once Nigel complies, she hands the chickens off to Ilyana, who takes them with some hesitation, then removes the bag from her belt and makes a pattern on the floor with what proves to be flour.  She then removes the rattles and dances around the room for a few minutes, crooning in some sort of french patois.  Shen then produces a knife, slits the throats of the chickens, takes a drink from the blood of each, and then dances around the room, spraying blood in all directions and scattering feathers about (this causes the khaki officer to mutter something about having to clean up the mess).  She dances for about five minutes, though she is careful never to tread on the flour pattern.  She then abruptly stops and carefully obliterates ther pattern with one foot before walking out of the cell, still holding the chickens.

"Baron Samedi, he be watching over dis playce now.  No evil can come here, not even de great deceiver."  She brandishes the chickens.  "Now I gotta go home an' start de chickens stewing!"  she heads out the door and off down the hall, whistling.

"Blood test results should be in soon, Mr. Timmons," Ilyana says.  The door shuts.  The grille is shut as well, but Nigel can hear another metal door open briefly, and Ilyana consulting with the khaki officer in a low voice.  Then footsteps walk off down the corridor and Nigel is alone with the blood, the feathers, the flour, and the humming box.

Nigel can still talk, though his jaw is clenched shut.  He can, with a bit of effort, get up and move around his cell.  He will find it extremely difficult, but not absolutely impossible, to get his pants down to go to the bathroom, but even more difficult to get them back up afterwards.
 

To Be Continued...