Prodigy - NYSM [1] (DISCONTINUED)

TWELVE

fbi

After the show, Emerald flung herself onto the couch in their suite, her arms outstretched. She kicked her booted feet up onto the coffee table, grinning. "We did it!"

At the minibar across the room, her father lifted a glass in her direction, "That we did," he said, "Who wants alcohol?" He held up his other hand in a 'stop' motion. "Not you, Gem. I do not want that on our charges."

Emerald rolled her eyes, flopping back again as Atlas and Henley made their way to the bar. Jack leaned on the back of the couch, laughing, and Emerald was glad she wasn't the only one underage (though she had a feeling Jack would drink if he wanted to). "Don't have too much, guys." she called over to the older trio. "We don't want to have to deal with your hangovers." Beside her, Jack laughed, and she tipped her head back to look up at him with a grin.

Across the room, Merritt faked a choking noise. "Okay, stop the heart eyes thing." he said, "It's disgusting."

Emerald kicked off one of her boots and threw it at her dad; it missed, but his face still made her laugh.

Henley finished her drink and headed for the stairs. "I'm off to bed," she said, "Need some sleep before tomorrow."

Emerald knew she should follow Henley, but the couch was so comfy, and Jack was coming around to sit with her, throwing an arm over her shoulders. She kicked off her other boot, curling her feet under her, and blinked. She watched as, across the room, Atlas and her father talked. Colors seemed to fade as her eyes drifted closed.

—

Emerald woke up on the couch.

A blanket was pulled over her body, and she still wore her dress from the night before. Henley knelt in front of her, holding a mug of coffee out. "Rise and shine." she said with a smile.

Emerald groaned, pushed herself up, and took the coffee. "Shower?" she mumbled.

"You'll have to fight Danny for it." Henley warned.

Emerald drank half the coffee in one gulp. Handing the cup back, she pushed the blanket off and stood. "I can take him."

Henley shook her head and smirked. "Oh, I'm sure you can. Just don't let him knock you down the stairs." She put the mug on the (very nice, very expensive, very tempting for Emerald to ruin) table. Emerald just laughed, shaking her head and heading for the stairs leading to other half of the suite.

Atlas did not push Emerald down the stairs, as she beat him to the bathroom, sticking out her tongue at him as she shut the door. She was out of the shower ten minutes later, hopping back down to the main level. A bag was slung over one shoulder, her brown leather jacket half-on, and her shoes were untied.

Jack, who was lounging in a chair, laughed at her. Emerald shook her head, dropped her bag on his lap, and tugged on the rest of her jacket. "Can I just ask why no one took me upstairs?" she asked as she plopped onto the floor and tied her shoes.

Atlas didn't even turn away from the window to acknowledge her. Still mad about the bathroom thing, then. Merritt, who was stretched out on the couch with a book Emerald had never seen before, said, "You looked so comfortable, we didn't want to move you."

Emerald huffed. "Uh-huh, sure. Or you're all just wimps." She shrugged, checking the knot on the second shoe.

A loud bang sounded on the door, and Emerald's head stepped up. Moments later, It burst open, revealing a collection of agents. Right on time. "FBI! Hands where I can see them!" The agent in the lead said.

Emerald sighed dramatically, lifting her arms. Behind her, Jack did the same after dumping her bag onto the ground. Atlas turned, hesitantly raising his hands. The elder McKinney, however, didn't move.

The lead agent sighed. "Put the book down."

Merritt held up one finger, finished reading, then laid the book on his chest, pages-down. "Okay. You got me." he said, a mocking smile on his lips.

Emerald smirked, standing up. She hooked her foot through the strap of her bag as she did and slinging the bag onto her shoulder. The agents stared at her.

Their attention was diverted by Henley coming down the stairs from the second level, pulling on her jacket. "Freeze!" an agent called at her, "Hands in the air!"

Henley froze where she stood, letting half her jacket dangle behind her back. She raised her hands, looking down at them all with a wide-eyed expression. Then, she smirked. "Do one of you guys mind giving us a hand with our bags?"

Ten minutes later, five magicians and twenty FBI agents strolled through the casino floor of the Aria, several of the agents weighed down by Henley's bags—she'd brought more than necessary for this exact purpose.

The Horsemen didn't act like captives. They walked as freely as they could, smiling and not looking at all concerned. All around them, hotel patrons cheered them on, calling out to them. Emerald grinned at those who called her name, even risking a little twirl (which she realized had become a sort of signature for her. Oh well).

Disgruntled, the agents shoved and prodded the magicians towards a collection of black, nondescript cars. They were pushed in, and the cars set off.

—

Emerald was bored.

Once at the headquarters, the agents had separated the five of them, taking them each to separate interrogation rooms. And then they left her there, with absolutely nothing to amuse herself. She was seated, handcuffed to a table, and she wanted to bang her head against the wall. Somehow, though, she thought that would give the wrong impression. So instead she tapped her fingers on the table to the beat of a song.

It was a long while before the door opened. On the other side stood the agent who arrested them, looking rather shaken up. He was bald, and shorter than Emerald had expected.

She laughed. "You've met my dad, I see."

The agent ran a hand over his bald head. "Right." He sat down across from her, pulling a file towards him. "I guess there's no reason to confirm that you are Emerald McKinney, then?" Emerald rolled eyes, and he cleared his throat. "Right. You're-" he glanced down at the file "-eighteen years old. Tell me, Emerald, were you coerced into aiding your father and the others?"

Emerald laughed. She couldn't help it, the idea was so ridiculous. "Does my father seem the kind of man to force me into anything?" She leaned forward, "Do I seem like the kind of girl who would let him?"

The agent stared at her, and she leaned back again, arms crossed. "Are we done?"

They were.

—

It wasn't more than twenty minutes later that an agent—a different one than had questioned her—came in, unlocked the handcuffs, and guided her to where the others waited.

Her dad grinned. "There you are!" He slung an arm around Emerald's shoulders, pulling her close. "Let's get out of here."

—

1207 words.

This chapter wasn't my best, I'll admit that. But at least I got it done! Next up, the plane ride to New Orleans and a phone call Emerald does not want to answer.