Episode 13-3: My Own Pup

Ispio Head Quarters: Interrogation Room #142

"Another interrogation in the same day? We're on a roll," Clyde comments as he stares at the sniper from the one-way mirror.

"Shush! Nobody has to know about Archer. Have you seen their workload of cases? Marston doesn't need another problem breathing down his neck, especially since we're the ones to blame for said problem."

"Whatever," he says. "So, how do you want to do this? I don't think he'll be particularly scared if a child is the one asking the questions."

Well, that was a given, but Clyde's the one that always does the questioning. He just has that certain aura around him that makes you spill your guts as soon as he tells you to. Me on the other hand, I'm too dainty to do that type of roughhousing, but judging by our current situation, I might as well give it a shot.

"I'll see what I can do," I tell Clyde.

A snicker comes from him. "You? Okay princess, don't get any blood on your dress."

"Jokes on you, I'm not even wearing a dress!"

He smiles and shakes his head. "Remember to stay on topic, Grade A Prototypes, and the likes. Scaring people isn't the whole battle, they want to hear if there's a reward for sharing what they know. Lastly, this is an interrogation, not a torture session. Go easy on the gore."

"I'm getting pointers on extorting information from a six-year-old. It's all downhill from here, isn't it?"

The door swooshes open automatically as I enter the room. The sniper sits in the metal chair unrestrained, his legs bundled up in casts by the medical team here. He watches as I sit down in the chair across from him, my hands resting on the wooden table in front of us.

"You dick," he begins, "look at my legs! Look what you did to my legs!"

"Hey, you shot me. Twice! The least I could do was break your legs, now we're even." Oh, wait, stay on topic! "Grade A Prototypes. Start talking."

He looks at me in disbelief. "No."

Damn, I was hoping it would be that easy. "C'mon, please don't make my job any harder than it needs to be."

"Your job? Yeah, what are you anyway? This isn't any jail I know, and you're not dressed like local law enforcement."

"I'm the one asking questions here! Who hired you?"

"Your momma."

"Oh, real original! What are you, still in middle school? Tell me what I want to know."

He places his rugged hands on the table and leans forward. "God hired me, and he told me about the New World."

Quickly, I take out a small knife that I always carry and stab it down on the table near his hand. Although, the squirt of red liquid that dabs my chin and the pained look on his face notifies me that it might've been closer than just near his hand. My eyes move down to see the blade has pierced the back of his palm and had gone straight through the other side. He screams.

"Oh no," I say frantically, "that wasn't supposed to hit you!" With my hand still on the blade's handle, I pull up with all my strength, but to no avail. It must've gotten stuck into the wooden table.

Another pained grunt leaves the sniper. "Ow! Stop, you're making it worse!"

I try to pull it again, wobbling it from side to side to shake its tip out of the table. In the process, I'm sure that crunching noise is coming from his bones. "Stay calm," I order.

"I can't!" he screams.

"I was talking to me." I use my other hand to grip the handle and pull up with both arms. I can feel that it's coming loose, much to the sniper's dismay.

"You fuckin' crazy fox! Just leave it, just leave it alone!"

I jump up on the table and use my legs to add to the power. I can feel the knife breaking free, and I tug harder and harder. The sniper loses his voice, and his mouth hangs open for screams that won't come out. Another hard tug, it moves again. I give another and feel leverage. One last pull! The knife snaps out of its fixed place, leaving a trail of blood to splash the sniper as it whips about from the built-up potential energy. I stumble around, losing my footing and falling off the table. I hear more banging, noticing that the sniper is on the floor with me as he tumbles down with the chair he was sitting on. He grips his hurt hand with his good one, flopping around like a fish out of water. I get up quickly, rushing towards him to help.

He stares at me with wide eyes. "Stay back!"

I stop in my tracks and barely notice that I still hold the knife in my hands. I callously toss it away from me and reach to grab his arm. In my haste, I fail to see where his legs are laying and accidentally step on one of them. Another crunching noise. Whoops. My ears twitch as he lets out another blood-curdling scream, and I step back, afraid of causing more damage.

He lays there, squirming around and switching between clutching his hand and his leg. I go to pick up my knife, noticing that the blade is nearly broken.

The sniper sees me and eyes the broken blade. "No! Stop! Grade A Prototypes! The perfect blend of human and anthro! Females who can reproduce without a mate!"

Wow, I think I did it.

He continues, "The Morrow's Children know! It's their project!"

I look at the one-way mirror, knowing that Clyde is watching the entire time, and give him a shrug. I look back at the sniper. "Where?"

*** *** ***

McAllen, Texas: 26°12'59.8"N 98°07'47.0"W

"Where the hell are we?" I ask.

"I'm not too sure. North Alamo, I think," says Clyde. The sniper we brought along in a wheelchair led us to this strange piece of the city. It's a neighborhood, and there are so many fences everywhere. Why are there so many fences? It makes me feel uneasy to be standing here with the sun setting.

Something doesn't add up. "You're telling me that they've been stashing missing girls here? How could they have gone unnoticed with all these houses around?"

The sniper chuckles. "I haven't shown you where they've been keeping them. You'll see." He looks towards a field with plenty of hay bundles rolled up and spread out all over the property. "It's over there, but this wheelchair will sink into the mud if we try to trek it."

I look at Clyde. "Not a problem, right pup?" He gives an annoyed grunt as he effortlessly picks up the sniper and slings him on his back. The sniper is surprised at the strength of the little tyke, and Clyde's small stature carrying a rough-looking, decent-sized man makes for a humorous picture. We begin our walk through the muddy field, and I feel the pain of having my favorite shoes get messed up and filthy beyond regular cleaning methods. Should've worn boots today. The walk is starting to get long, and the sniper hasn't said a word the whole way through. Finally, he lifts up his arm and points at a single bundle of hay fixated all alone.

"Look at that one," he says.

"Oh boy, we haven't seen one of those yet," I say sarcastically.

"More than meets the eye, fox," We get nearer, and Clyde sets him down in the mud as we inspect the bundle of hay. Initially, we don't find anything wrong with it, just a normal piece of scenery, but the sniper insisted. "How about getting that pup of yours to roll it on out of here."

Clyde sneers at the comment, but he knows he has to do his job. He gives it a strong push and rolls it away about ten feet, revealing a hole in the ground that seems to reach a new level of darkness.

Clyde looks at me. "Got any glow sticks?"

I pull out a red stick. "Just a flare. Good enough?"

"Light it up."

The flare sparks to life, and I drop it down the hole. We are both surprised to see that it makes contact with something not even three feet deep. As soon as it hits the surface, it skitters down a tunnel-like tube, most possibly a slide.

"Guess it's mostly for deposits," I joke, but it must've gone over Clyde's head. I clear my throat, "Okay, give him the nano-trackers and let's get down there," Clyde pulls out a small syringe from his back pocket and injects the sniper in his arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that?" he asks, rubbing the new hole in his skin.

"Small trackers that you can't mess with. We'll always know where you're at, so your life of contract hits is over. A few of our men will be here to pick you up soon, don't try to fight them," I look at his casted legs. "Not that you could put up much of one right now."

"Might as well just kill me already. The Morrow Children will definitely have my name on a list when they find out I've been interrogated."

I look back at the hole. "Clyde?"

He takes a step back. "No way, you first!"

"What? You scared of the dark?"

His head tilts down. "N-no! You're the one who's invincible, you go first."

I can't argue with that logic. If there's something nasty waiting for us down there, at least I have the chance to warn Clyde before he jumps to his doom. I tap the earpiece, hoping that I can get a signal underneath the ground. For a moment I think about falling into a pit of lava at the end, then the earpiece would be useless anyway. Of course, that would be too wacky, even for a job like this.

I wink at Clyde. "See you on the other side." He gives me a small wave, and I jump in with a "Woo!" fading in my aftermath.