Divergent

“Why’d you do it, Alvarez? Why’d you kill those guys? They were your colleagues. Never did anything wrong. So why murder them? You had to know you’d be caught. Six went out; one comes back with some insane story. Come on, you could’ve done better than that surely.” Investigator Delia Petrie exclaims as she looms over O’Shea with her arms braced against the metal desk in a room entirely made of concrete save for the mirror smooth metal door some four inches thick which is cut into one of the walls. A snarl is carved across her face which even if it were not present would show the disdain she feels for the well over six foot tall man with thick dark stubble, overalls and cuffed hands bolted to an eye hook welded to the table which separates them.

“I didn’t kill anyone. UUSPG command central informed us of a swell. That has to be in the records.”

It is…” Delia admits making it clear that she does not buy for a second that a swell is the cause of the disappearance of these five men. After all, the sixth and only survivor is an ex-con who was sent down because of his connection to the, long since defunct, South Satan’s gang from New Washington. In fact, if she were able she’d like to investigate whether the deaths in the gangs’ leadership might also be attributed to the man sat before her. His head lowered, shoulders hunched but eyes, blue and piercing, locked on her. She gets the feeling he’d like to smash her face into gore. Not something he’ll get a chance to do, she could assure him of that though she won’t. And not only because of the weapon on her hip either. The one hidden by her suit blazer navy blue in colour and loosely buttoned but otherwise open from neck to a the base of her ribcage.

“But that doesn’t explain how you’re alive and they’re not.  In fact, you seem incapable of telling me how it is you’re sat here. So try again, and this time, try to make it sound believable.”

The threat is obvious. It has been from the moment O’Shea was put in cuffs, brought to wherever it is he finds himself, he knows for a fact its land, and then subjected to this woman’s onslaught.

To anyone else she might be scary but to the ex-con she’s a suit with a badge, gun and a serious attitude problem which blinds her to the truth.

If days hadn’t passed since…

“I told you, I woke up on a boat. They told me they fished me out when I got caught in their nets a good thousand miles from where I had been in Western Trench. Not sure what else you want to know.” The ex-con shrugs. The judgement has already been rendered. He thought it might from the moment UUSPG showed up with cash to bribe and cuffs to adorn him with.

That was a few days ago and since he’s come to terms with what his sentence will be, military service. If they could prove murder his fate would be worse, but the likelihood of the UUSPG finding the bodies of Henon, Yacob, Barrett, Jesse and Claude are low. The sea rarely returns what it takes. If it does it’ll likely be so far into the future that there’s a high possibility O’Shea will already be dead.

The UUSPG investigator sighs frustrated. She hates it when people like this Mr Alvarez beat her but she’ll have to accept defeat, this time. Punishment rendering is more important than dragging this out more than it needs to be. After all, the corp. needs a scapegoat and O’Shea Alvarez couldn’t have made it easier if he’d tried. And no, Delia doesn’t believe he murdered those men, it’s just the corporate overlord’s need an explanation as to why a swell killed five experienced deep sea engineers. The last thing that would swing with the public, the markets really, is that another new natural disaster was the cause. Such things could send the delicate balance into complete disarray and yet there is no refuting that the seas have been acting unlike they have ever previously, it’s worrying, but way above Delia’s pay grade.

“Fine, Mr Alvarez, have it your way. Deny, deny, deny; doesn’t change what going to happen to you. And you know don’t you?” A smile splits across the woman’s round face, her green eyes probing for a reaction. She gets none. It’s disappointing but not surprising and so she gets to the point, “Military service. That’s where you’re headed. Enjoy a lifetime of warzones and hell.” Her smile grows wider, her eyebrows dance up and down mocking O’Shea who does nothing but sucks silently on his teeth.

“Take him away.” The woman demands finally.

The metal door retracts allowing two burly guards in. They release the cuffs from the eye hook, haul O’Shea to his feet and escort him out of the interrogation cell.

“You had more time agent Petrie, why not use it?” The male voice of one of the board members from UUSPG mutters in her ear.

“He wouldn’t have cracked. He knows we’re full of shit; looking for an out. A way to bury the story and he isn’t inclined to play along. Cons rarely are. It’s the problem with employing them.”

“Are you saying we should change our employment practices?”

“No. I’m saying you got lucky he was a con. If he’d been like the others you’d have had issues, though I would have broken them and got them to admit to anything. But this way the story sits better, marries well.”

“Thank you for your assistance Miss Petrie, your fee is already in your account.” A different voice says in the moments prior to cutting the line.

“You just better hope he never gets out of the corps ‘cause if he does he might come for those who’ve wronged him.” Delia mutters to herself.

Shortly thereafter she decide she’ll keep tabs on this O’Shea Alvarez to ensure if he does ever come for those who have screwed him that she’ll know in advance. Not for her employers’ sakes, they have enough money, power, influence, security and so on that they’ll have to look after themselves. No, Delia wants to know so she can protect herself. Its part of a lesson learned long ago is that anyone can and will hold a grudge.

She looks down and touches a section of her blazer around her navel. Below the layers of fabric is a scar. She knows it well. It’s a permanent reminder of the first and only time she failed to plan for all eventualities; it very nearly cost her life. Not a mistake she is intending to repeat.