Unprofessional Liaison

"Alright, that's a wrap." the ORPO officer in front of us claps his hands for emphasis, "Back to the detention block."

Its after the suspect parade and I am being led with the other so-called suspects out of the viewing room. We are quickly split up between the waiting group of officers and a pair of them lead me back to the lockup. We pass through the featureless corridors of the ORPO HQ and finally reach a room filled with rows of cells. I am guided to one and the officers unlock the door before ushering me in.

"Long sleeves are not allowed in the lockup. Take off the trench coat." one of the officers tells me, "We will hold on to it until you are released from remand."

"Make me." I grunt and the officer immediately backs off. When I had been carried here by the ORPO mecha, flying all the way no less, I had agreed to disarm as a show of cooperation. The gun and baton are now residing in plastic evidence bags kept at the detention block's security office. A show of good faith that would not cost me much. As long as I have access to the core, my body is my greatest weapon, as those fitness freaks would go on yelling about on video back home.

That was the reason why I refused to take off the trench coat. The Voice's armor had been made to resemble regular clothing and it had multiple fail safes, but the strength of the protection offered against Celeste depended on the amount of clothing I had on. I was confident that I did not actually need the trench coat to activate the core, but as the largest article of the set, I was loathe to part with it. Good thing my reputation precedes me though. The moment I refused to cooperate, the ORPO officers immediately backed off.

Sprawling out on to the hard bench located in the corner of the cell, I patiently wait for the clock to run down on my remand. Being brought to Celeste by ORPO was always going to be a really long shot, but I had been hoping to at least meet with Hernandez to get a better idea of what's going on. Unfortunately, the man had resolutely decided not to show up in front of me for the whole day. My minders were just regular ORPO officers who refused to exchange words with me, merely watching me when I had been taken out of the cell and guiding me to the ID parade.

Have to admit it though, The Voice had done a good job upgrading the Hero's programming. I might not have been able to overhear what was going on in the observation room, but I had been keeping track of who's doing what using matter sense. By my best guess, ORPO had brought in six witnesses to identify me and four of those had pointed out the wrong person. A kind of mental block installed through The Voice's transmission before Celeste took over the surface? Probably.

Most importantly, if what I heard from the officers is true, the last witness was the Hero himself, and the Hero had pointed out the wrong person. The Voice had delivered on upgrading and toughening up the Hero's programming at least. At least that part of the plan is working out fine. I begin tapping my foot against the wall to stave off boredom. The Hero should be able to just cruise to victory if he has been restored to full strength, so even if Celeste is planning something, the odds would certainly still be against her.

"Up." a hoarse voice rouses me from my musings and I see Hernandez puffing away on his obnoxious cigar just outside my cell while flanked by several officers.

"About time Commander." I grumble as an officer unlocks the door and gestures at me to follow them. Hernandez does not respond to my quip and leads me deeper into the detention block where we wind up in front of a nondescript wooden door. The officer unlocks this door and the entire group enters. Inside is a bare room with a table and a pair of chairs on opposite sides. There is a camera mounted against the corner of one of the walls and an odd metal box is hooked up to a power socket next to the table. No windows and the ensemble is presided over by harsh fluorescent lighting that makes my head hurt.

Is this an interrogation room? As I consider what is about to happen next, Hernandez points at one of the chairs and begins stubbing out his cigar in an ashtray on the table. Taking the cue, I get myself comfortable as Hernandez flicks a switch on the metal box. There's an electric buzz and the machine begins to release distorted waves of spiritual energy, causing an unpleasant static feeling to blister across my skin. Hernandez then accepts a file from one of the officers and casually tosses it on to the table.

"Out." Hernandez instructs his officers and they leave the room. The Commander then goes to the camera and twists it upwards, preventing the camera from recording whatever is going on.

Confidential discussion then, huh? Yeah, I can get behind that. No wonder Hernandez has been acting like a stranger in front of me, he wanted to have a private discussion. Hernandez leafs through the file and brings out a single sheet of paper, sliding it towards me with a pen.

"Sign." the Commander instructs and I pick the paper up to read through it.

"What the hell?" I snap, "This is a bloody confession. Are you out of your mind?"

"You've gone too far." Hernandez scowls, "The so-called Prince of Europe identified you at the manor. He wants your head. And you don't say no to a Prince. Sign it and make it easy for everyone."

"Will you relax?" I roll my eyes, "This is The City, not Berlin. Tell Gustav to go pound sand. Its not as if he can do squat here."

"So you admit to killing his staff then?" Hernandez quirks an eyebrow while playing with his mustache.

"What staff?" I snort, "No idea what you're talking about. Now let me go, you do realize we are in this together, right?"

Hernandez's expression flickers for a moment before regaining its steely look, "Not anymore. I'm under pressure from everyone to close this case. Bringing you in is the neatest and safest way to do that. Your mysterious contacts have not said a word either. I think its pretty clear you've been cut off, left high and dry."

I frown, cracking my knuckles, "Easy? You sure about that Commander?"

"Yeah. Pretty sure." Hernandez jabs his thumb at the box beside us, "See that? Its a disruption field generator. Use your magic and you will be throwing up all over the floor." The Commander then draws the baton from his belt, rapping the table once with it.

"After that, you'll be throwing up your teeth." Hernandez says in a calm, measured tone, "Like I said. Easy. For me at least."

Damn it. Bastard wants to sell me out. I activate core, bracing myself for any nausea. And feel nothing. The static buzzing around me grows in intensity, but I don't feel ill or anything. Great, Hernandez's device can't overcome The Voice's protection. I fire off a mind blast at the Commander to settle this confrontation.

You have not enough proof. Let him go.

My head is sent reeling back from the savage push back coming from Hernandez's mind. The Commander did not resist the mind blast, his brain outright rejected listening to me. Its exactly the same as what happened with the retard guard back at the Kingdom of Love. As I blink away the tears, Hernandez crows smugly, believing that I am feeling the effects of his wonder weapon.

"Had a taste? There's more where that came from if you keep being difficult."

I tune Hernandez out and take a quick breath to steady myself. Hernandez has been brainwashed by Celeste, that's pretty clear by now. If I am going to bring him back to my side, I need to break whatever hold she has over him. I recall The Voice giving Alley implants to block Celeste's influence. If I can block off Hernandez from the red thread in the same manner, the law of equivalent exchange should kick in again, swinging Hernandez back to my side. No idea if it will work, but its worth a try.

"Stop stalling!" the Commander shouts, banging the table with his baton.

I nod quietly to myself before getting up to my feet and begin to take off my trousers. Hernandez stares in stunned silence as I shuck off the pair of black trousers The Voice had prepared for me and drape them neatly across the chair. Going to neat them ready later.

"What in the world are you doing?" Hernandez demands raising the baton menacingly. Before he can react, I slap the baton out of his hand, sending it clattering to the ground.

"Sto-" Hernandez shouts but I belt him across the face with my open palm, whirling the man about. As the Commander staggers about stunned with his back to me, I grab him by the waist and begin unbuckling his belt. Hernandez realizes what I am doing and begins to resist, thrashing about like a fish out of water, preventing me from getting a firm grip.

"No! Let go!" Hernandez blares as he elbows me in the face. Losing patience with him, I decide to just remove the Commander's trousers with brute force. One hard rip sends the trousers splitting open like a ripe banana, sending the tattered remnants of Hernandez's underpants spiraling to the floor.

Huh, teddy bear underwear. Never knew Hernandez was into that kind of thing.

"HELP!" Hernandez screams at the top of his voice and I slap his bare ass with authority, cutting him off. I then reach out and grab the Commander by his hair, slamming his face into the table and bending him over. Hernandez refuses to give up though and he keeps struggling, forcing me to press down on him, subduing the man with my weight.

Then there's a click as the door opens.

Both Hernandez and I turn and see an ORPO officer staring at the two of us, completely expressionless. There's a pregnant pause as no one knows exactly how to react.

"Do you mind?" I ask. The ORPO officer politely turns away and closes the door behind him.

"No! Come back!" Hernandez howls in dismay, hanging on the table for dear life as I lift his legs with one hand and begin jamming them down The Voice's set of trousers with the other. The Commander frantically kicks at me, but I straighten his legs with a solid pull, tipping the table over with a crash and sending Hernandez face planting to the floor.

Seizing the opportunity, I pounce on Hernandez's back and complete forcing him into my trousers. His entire body bucks and shakes as he attempts to throw me off to no avail. I slap him on the ass again to get him to quieten down and the moment the trousers completely cover Hernandez's legs, his struggles immediately stop.

Did it work? I cautiously get back to my feet, watching the Commander carefully.

Hernandez rolls over, a look of exhaustion on his face. He gives me an aggrieved look before gazing at the bare ceiling.

"There's a whispering in my head." Hernandez murmurs, reaching for the cigars in his coat, "Never heard it before. I need a smoke."

Hernandez lights up and I breathe a sigh of relief. As long as the Commander has my pair of trousers on, he should be back on track as my ally. Hernandez remains silent as he shuts his eyes, lazily puffing away at the cigar, savoring the tobacco.

And the wall of the room explodes, revealing several ORPO mecha barging in through the dust.

"Get out of here." Hernandez irritably waves at his men and the mecha stop right in their tracks, looking at Hernandez lying spreadeagled on the floor. The mecha then turn around and begin marching away without another word.

"My office, smart ass." Hernandez says as he climbs back up to his feet, both hands fastening my trousers to his waist.

"You and I, we need to have a little heart to heart."