Undercover Badge.

CHAPTER 19

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Hey, sorry that its been a while, but that's the way things go with my internet.

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Recap;

"So." James said, and the nervousness in his tone made me look up.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he looked so embarrassed, blushing.

"They're planning a bank robbery today!" I cried, throwing my hand in the air. "At 12! East Los Angeles!" I cried, and my fingers flew across the keyboard as I went over notes. "New East Bank." I said.

"What do you mean? What're you suggesting?" Lieutenant asked.

"Okay, she wants me to join her gang or die. What if I do the opposite? Instead of being dead, I be safe. And instead of working for her, I work for the cops?" I saw Myra's eyes flash. She understood what I was saying.

"Who ever is working this will report back to her. If they tell her I'm working with you, she'll be angry. She'll send her best."

"Kat, that's great and all. But what's your point?" Myra asked.

I looked at her. It was now or never. I gave her my response.

"Send me in."

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FOUR DAYS LATER;

*CHAPTER 19.*

Examiner; Dr. Lillian Jay Dupree

Patient; Katrina Veynox

Time; 13;22

Treatment; Psychological Analysis.

Place; Neurological testing facility; Mojave Dessert; Nevada.

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I picked at the stitching in the Black leather armrest. Sitting in a comfortable leather chair, facing a dark wooded desk, I couldn't help but think about how so much had changed.

And it HURT.

Shelves aligned the wall behind the desk.

I knew there were cameras everywhere. Something monitoring body temperature. And of course, something was probably checking my blood pressure and pulse.

I almost smirked.

The door creaked behind me, and around my left side, a woman walked in. She wore a tight, black, empire waisted pencil skirt. A pretty, light blue fitted button down blouse, with the top three buttons undone. Her hair was up in a French twist, and a few tendrils of a fringe escaped on the left side of the face. She was pretty. Not much older tan twenty two I was sure.

She walked around and too a seat at her desk, smiling politely as she pulled off her reading glasses.

"Katrina, is it?" she asked, smiling warmly. "Or Kat. Whichever you prefer." I said back.

"Well, Katrina," she said, and opened a file on her desk. It was a faded yellow in color.

"You have quite the file." she said with a smile.

"I had quite the up-bringing."

"Really?" she settled into her chair, put on her glasses, held up a clip board, and held her pen poised to write. "And how do you feel about that?"