"Shit. I go through all this trouble and I still get caught by the pigs?" Alicia Socarras, the anartist behind the statue who had recently murdered a handful of civilians in the Little Havana Gallery, grimaced as she found herself cornered. She could see the UIU agents approaching her from all sides. The only thing separating her from them was a few meters. But she was too young to go to prison, too pretty to rot in Paramax with all that other scum. Furthermore, she was a Cuban citizen. These FBI agents had no right to arrest her.
She was surprised she had come this far. It was not easy to navigate the alleys of the city, especially considering that the entrances and exits had been blocked by the authorities because of her actions. Actions whose consequences had been catastrophic. The screams of people being dismembered and burned alive still echoed in her ears. She had run, fled through the alleys, from the feds, from the MAC, from that idiotic journalist… And now everything was coming to an end.
As they surrounded her, Alicia began to formulate ideas on how to avoid being executed. She was just a necromancy student visiting from Deer College. She was an innocent bystander who had been mistaken for the artist. She was incriminated by the Cuban government.
No, they wouldn't believe any of that. She was a socialist known to the Yankees, so there was really no way out of this. Damn.
"Don't move!" said the nearest agent approaching with his gun raised. "We have you surrounded." More and more of them emerged from the surroundings. There were at least a dozen. And every one of them was pointing their guns at her.
She raised her hands high above her head in surrender. "Get on the ground!" Shouted one of the agents. She obeyed, staining her black blouse with water from the day's rains. Although she could vaporize them all with a spell (she would love to cast Power Word: Death), she knew that would only lead to her demise. For this reason, she preferred to follow orders.
She noticed an officer roughly take her hands, followed by two clicks. They handcuffed her. Tight, too. From what she had heard, the UIU used beryllium bronze alloy handles. With them on, she couldn't do magic. Could she do something other than magic? Kicking someone, for example, or running, or… Someone forced her to stand up abruptly. Several agents with sullen expressions were watching her. They forced her to move.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a cou—" One of the agents spoke as he pulled her to her feet, but was interrupted by Alicia.
"En español, puto. No hablo tu lengua imperialista."
The agent sighed and then looked at Alicia with contempt. "Usted tiene derecho a permanecer en silencio. Todo lo que usted diga puede y será usado en su contra en un tribunal de justicia. Tiene derecho a un abogado. Si no puede pagar un abogado, se le asignará uno. ¿Feliz?" The agent folded his arms.
Alicia spat on the ground and glared at the agent. "Actually, I understand English. I just wanted to see if you would do your best to please me." The woman smiled.
The agent looked at his companions. Then he looked at Alicia. Then he hit her.
"Next time you'll think twice before disrespecting my authority." Two other police officers grabbed her arms while a third covered her head with a bag so she couldn't see anything. They forced her to move, she heard the sound of a vehicle and then silence. She lost track of time.
Suddenly, there was light. She was sitting in a room, still tied up. Someone was shining a lamp on her, blinding her.
"Who do you work for?" A voice behind the light asked.
"I want a lawyer." Alicia fired back.
A sardonic laugh was all she got in response.
That's for later. For now, you have to deal with me. So your best option is to tell us who you work for and why you caused a terrorist attack in the middle of the city.
"I know my rights. And I will not speak without a lawyer present." She didn't know why he was repeating this refrain, but she couldn't think of a better way to save her skin.
"There are no lawyers here. Even less so for para-terrorist scum like you."
Alicia remained silent, blinking under the harsh light.
"Don't force us to start using our advanced interrogation techniques," said the agent. The anartist spat in the approximate direction from which the voice came. "You asked for it."
The light moved, allowing Alicia to see two suited agents whispering to each other. Once her eyes adjusted, she was able to identify the room she was in, which looked like a small dilapidated warehouse. Surely a provisional area where the FBI placed Cuban prisoners before moving them to Paramax, the UIU's maximum security prison for anomalous subjects. A third agent watched from the door, smoking. She looked intensely at the detainee, as if waiting for an opportunity to put out her cigarette on Alicia's skin.
Suddenly, the very same officer started coughing. Her eyes grew wide. She doubled over, leaning against the wall, and threw the cigarette away. The other two feds turned to her, and immediately started coughing. The first to be affected collapsed on herself. One of the officers who was still standing took a radio from his belt, tried to activate it but it fell out of his hands and he followed her right after. The last one took out a gun and pointed it at Alicia who was beginning to notice a nauseating smell. A smell of death.
A shot rang out.
And then silence.
"Wake up."
She moved slightly.
"Wake up, girl." A deep, masculine, almost raspy voice called her attention.
"Eh?"
Alicia opened her eyes.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." The voice belonged to a bald man wearing a guayabera with his sleeves rolled up and sitting directly in front of her. She realized they were moving: were they on a boat? She heard the soft lapping of water soon after and quickly became dizzy.
"Who are you?" She managed to choke out between containing the vomit threatening to creep out her throat and stabilizing herself. Alicia tried to get away from him but found herself against the wall.
"My name is Ernesto." He spoke simply and calmly, as if everything that had preceded this kidnapping was nothing.
"Why did you bring me here? Are you going to execute me? Are you with the UIU?" Her chest rose and fell, beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and she reached for something, anything he could use as a weapon against this man. Although she could cast some pretty powerful necromancy spells, the man had kept her alive and freed her from her previous captors. He clearly wanted something.
"If you're looking for something to hit me with, you won't find anything here. And I wouldn't try any of your spells on me either, unless you feel like being stuck alone in the middle of nowhere. As for your questions, I will answer them in reverse order. I would rather die than be with the UIU. I'm not going to kill you. And I want to make you an offer."
"I don't like bald men."
Ernesto laughed and then put his hand in his breast pocket. He pulled out a cigar and a lighter, lit it, then took a drag. "And I don't like brats. But don't worry, that's not what my proposal is about." Smoke poured out of his nostrils.
Alicia remained silent.
"Aren't you going to ask me what my offer is?" Ernesto took another deep drag on his cigar and let it out slowly.
The woman, for her part, did not flinch. Despite being a staunch communist, she had left Cuba because she knew there were no prospects for her as a necromancer there. Had he been wrong? Either way, this man wasn't doing a good job of convincing her.
"No."
He laughed. She could tell he wasn't laughing at her, but she still didn't like the fact that he was laughing.
"No?"
"No."
He simply stared at her for a moment and then grimaced. "Well, then I guess I'll return you to Little Havana so you can take care of the UIU yourself." No problem. — Ernesto stood up, turning his back on her for a moment.
Alicia began casting a spell, keeping her voice to a whisper. "Warikẽ, ahiyakawo…"
"I would like to invite you to come work with me," he said, back still to her.
This made her reflect. She stopped casting. "…It's much better than rotting in an UIU prison. But first, I want you to answer a few questions."
"Shoot." He turned around.
"How did you save me from the UIU agents? With that smoke? What was that?"
Ernesto smiled and extended his hand, which in a matter of seconds turned into smoke and then back into flesh. —Nice trick, right? You're not the only necromancer with tricks up your sleeve.
Alicia nodded. "I see. Second question: why did you save me? I know you want to give me a job, but why?"
"My organization has spies within the UIIU, and the moment we learned of your statue's properties we were intrigued. We showed up to contain it before they did. Rest assured that your beautiful statue is in a safe place with us. But upon inspection, we learned that it was incomplete. So my boss wanted to give you the opportunity to complete your vision… and put a spin on it to benefit us."
She stayed quiet a moment before asking another question.
"Who do you work for? The Foundation?"