Feeling

Chapter Three

“That's mine,” I said, leaning on the bars of the cell.

“I know,” he said, unzipping the largest pocket of the purple bag.  “So let's see what you've hidden in here, hm?”  He dumped it all out on top of a nearby table and stayed sifting through my junk.

“Didn't your mommy ever teach you not to look in a lady's purse?”

“This isn't a purse, you're no lady, and my mother had better things to do than to fill my head with antiquated ideas,” he said, holding a piece of a motherboard up to the light.  “So you have a bit of expensive jewelry.  Probably stolen and waiting to be fenced.  Some...computer bits, which would be weird for anyone else, but I'd guess this is must a normal thing for you.”

“Hey, we can't all have fancy computers from our stick-in-the-mud jobs, now can we?  I built my computer from the ground up and I keep spare pieces in case that computer suddenly decides it's going to try and return to the grave.  Don't think I'll really have that problem from this cell, though.”  I turned away from him and went over to the metal bench built into the side of my cell.

He considered me for a second, then shoved the jewelry back in the bag and continued to sort through the other pouches.  His eyes lit up as he saw something.  “Ooh!  Velcro wallet.  Throwback to fifth grade. ”  He opened it up and sorted through my cards.  “Bus pass, library card, a few gift cards...hey, free sandwich.”

“This must be my lucky day,” I replied dryly.  “Too bad I'm a little too guarded right now to go and claim it.”

“Sucks, doesn't it?” Theo said, slipping the stack of cards back into the wallet.  He unzipped the side pocket.  “What is this, like three dollars in change?”

“Four eighteen, actually.  Exactly as much as two tacos, a drink, and tax at Paco’s Tacos food truck.”

He looked up at me, as though he was now questioning everything he'd done today regarding me.  “You're a strange person, Justice Eve.”

“Don't I know it,” I said, lying down on the bench and tilting my head to the side so that I could still watch him.

He slid the change back into the pocket and dropped it all back into the bag.  Then he took the fancy computer of of the desk and put it in the bag as well.  “Here's the deal,” he said, zipping up the backpack and placing it back under the desk.  “You're not going to be in here for very much longer...really, no more than a few minutes.”

I raised one eyebrow at him in surprise, before getting up completely and going over to the bars to watch him more closely.  “Score.  Any particular reasons?  Perhaps you've seen the error of your ways and understand how this is wrongful imprisonment?”

“You passed all of the tests we have you, Justice,” he said, rifling through one of the desk drawers.  After a second, he pulled out a small black box, kind of like a ring box, and a crumpled up brown paper bag.  “This is five thousand dollars,” he added as he dropped it into my backpack on the floor.   “Early payment for some of the services being rendered.”  After zipping my bag back up, he opened the box he was still holding and joined me at the did of my cell.  He turned the box around so I could see what was inside-- a small black piece of machinery no bigger than the size of a large pill.  “This is a GPS.  I need you to swallow it.”  He reached through the bars of the cell to grab at my face and I jumped back, my eyes wide.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, walking father out of his reach.  I wiped my mouth of with my sleeve, then my cheeks...anywhere his hands had even slightly grazed against my skin.  “I'm not swallowing your fucking GPS.  What the fuck do you think I'm going to do, hitch a ride to Cuba in a helicopter?  It's five grand and you owe me way more than that.  I haven't run before and I'm not going to now.”