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Your door bursts open as two men run inside with their guns pointed at you: one a large black man; the other an older Italian man. Both had FBI Vests on. You heard the distinct rustle of other footsteps behind you as you raised you hands to your head slowly, keeping your eyeline with the black agent.
He stepped towards you. 'Don't move!' He shouted, his voice deep and angry. You stayed still until he approached you, dropping his gun to his side as you felt bullets trained on you from all sides... not for the first time.
You stayed still as he walked towards you, standing stubbornly as he moved your hands behind you and into handcuffs. He walked you from your house, pushing you roughly into the back of a dark SUV. The Italian man climbed into the seat in front as the black man sat in the drivers seat and began to drive as the Italian man told you your rights. You didn't say a word.
You didn't say a word as you drove. You didn't say a word as they marched you through the station. You didn't say a word as they handcuffed you to a table in an interrogation room. You didn't say a word as they asked if you wanted a lawyer. You remained quiet right up until the moment where two agents walked into the room, their backs turned to the one-way glass behind that acted like a mirror.
One of the men was tall and lanky; an ill-fitting shirt sat on his small shoulders and a brown leather holster lay at his side. He had messy hair that was too long for his face and an air of nervousness directly opposed to that of his partner. The other man, the partner, oozed confidence. He wore a well-fitted grey suit and red Gucci tie. His dark hair was swept back messily, a strand falling between his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, but for someone so put together you couldn't help but think that he suited dishevelled. In his hands he carried a large brown box with your name sharpied onto the side in large black letters. The younger man carried a file with the FBI badge printed on it.
'Evening gentlemen. What can I do for you?' You speak confidently as you lean back in your chair, the older man staring at you unwaveringly. Neither man answers you.
Making their way towards you slowly they sit down, the younger agent placing the file to your left and the grey suit placing the box in front of you with a slight aggression underlying his actions. He suited angry.
'Where is she?' The grey suit spoke emotionlessly, his eyes never leaving yours.
'I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific.' You reply, a flirtatious undertone as you look to the hot older agent.
Pushing the box forwards to attract you attention, his tone changed to one of pure rage. 'We know all about you Miss Y/L/N. Where is she?'
You stare at him for a short while, taking your time as you slipped one hand out of the handcuffs and leant forwards to open the box, throwing the lid onto the floor with blatant disregard as you lift a pile of blank pieces of paper from the box and show them to the agent, raising an eyebrow as you did so. 'You were saying?'
