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by: Matthew Cox
June 5th, 2012
4:15 a.m.

Matt uncurled from his position on the canvas cot and stretched himself out. Finally, his head had stopped swimming from the pentobarbital Cole had ordered him dosed with.

That infuriated him. He'd been talking, making headway with Cole, then stabbed in the back. Well, arm, but metaphorically, Matt felt betrayed. Cora had not yet asked about the blood on his front, or if she had he'd been too delirious from the sedative to be able to comprehend her.

His whole goal had been to not become a weapon. The whole point of him fighting was to fight his way back home and reclaim his position as an agent. Lost. It was lost and gone. Nobody was willing to treat him like a human. Instead, he was at best some sort of intelligent animal that needed to be on a leash. At worst, he was a land mine with the sensor tripped.

Hell, even Cole...Cole the analytical mind that could see through people...even Cole treated him like a dangerous monster.

What if he was?
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by: Coraline Larson
The witch watched Matt from her cross-legged position in the center of her small cell. Several of the Mi:5 mooks had carried him in under heavy sedation about a half hour ago which had infuriated her to no end. She had tried questioning Matt to see what had happened to him, but the man had been far too out of it to give any kind of coherent response, so she had simply waited and watched over him.

When he finally began to stir and stretched, Cora called over to him, speaking softly to avoid overstimulating his senses as he recovered.

"Hey, Red... how you feeling?"
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by: Matthew Cox
"Like fuck..." he responded, voice still thick and slurry with the chemicals that had been forced into his system. Everything was starting to hurt again. Or did it hurt at all? Matt couldn't tell. He was sick of this. He wanted freedom, isolation, peace...

He drew his knees up and pivoted into a seated position in one motion. Twenty Questions hadn't been a fun game for him....he rubbed his bruised wrists and snarled silently. The hounds weren't very kind to their guests. Carefully, Matt flashed hand signs to Cora that there was surveillance. He used his body to block the signs from the cameras. If they wanted to treat him like a traitor, then maybe it was time to see how the hat fit.
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by: Coraline Larson
{You look like shit. What did they do to you?}

She signed in response, using the hand signals he had taught her. Following his lead she shifted her position to make it harder for the cameras to see her signs.

Judging by just the bruises around his wrists and the blood on his clothes something had certainly been done. She idly wondered which of the mooks had injured him and if he or she would also come to interrogate her.
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by: Matthew Cox
There wasn't any real good way to name names or explain what had happened, so Matt improvised using a string of adjectives and tapping out the letter K on his chest to indicate who he was talking about.

{team member-rogue-target-angry-woman-single K snuck in. C distracted from questioning me, K popped a squealer when I was trapped}

And cue Dark Lady fury in three, two, one...Matt braced himself for the shift in demeanor, not even caring that at this point he was headed down a path it would be nearly impossible to come back from. Cole and the rest of the Hounds could go to hell. If Klaus was smart, he'd find another job. Hell, maybe he could come work with Matt and Cora and take any contracts on werewolf targets.
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by: Coraline Larson
Dammit he was going too fast. The hand signs were clever and an excellent stealth tool but they were still new to her and it was sometimes difficult to follow them when Matt got going. She concentrated hard on the message he signed and tapped out...

Rogue woman... K? Could that have been the ex girlfriend? What the fuck! She had hit him with a squealer while he was restrained?!

A wave of cold fury pulsed from Cora at Matt's explanation. The fucking bastards! They let someone who was clearly not objective to the situation into the room with him, ALONE AND ARMED?! The fucking bastards..

The Dark Lady seethed silently from her cell.
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by: Matthew Cox
Matt grimaced at Cora's fury, clearly agreeing with her anger. The Devil was rising up, taking away the former agent who had been keen on working with the agency. They turned their back on him, he felt like. Fine. If they wanted to treat him like he was uncooperative, they should see what that really meant.

Matt's attention was drawn to the sound of feet on the stairwell.

{two targets approaching. Male, armed, one wizard}

Matt added the wizard addendum when he noticed that Brakes was one of the men coming down the stairs with Cole. The man had been outed as a wizard the same time that Kat was outed as a witch. He carried his wand openly in an under-the-arm holster. Matt wasn't impressed with him, but had never expressed that before. Matt moved away from the front of his cell, malevolently glaring at the two agents who came in. If Cole thought his stunt earlier was going to be quickly forgiven, he had another think coming.
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by: Coraline Larson
The Dark Lady signed her acknowledgement of his warning and signed back only one thing.

{Wait and assess}

If there was a wizard, there would hopefully be a wand. If she could get the wand, she could get them out of here. The assassin rose gracefully to her feet and mirrored Matt's pose as the agents entered their holding area.
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by: Cole Callaway
The order was clear.

Jones wanted a confession. She wanted a clear explanation that Matt was well aware of his alliance with Coraline Larson and the damages caused against the agency. Jones wanted him to explain his side of things, maybe give them some sliver of remorse or hell--even plead insanity--that would help him against a charge of treason. How could he recall anything, confess anything, after being subjected to spells; magical factors that could have altered memory or attitude in any way?

The existence of such power gave Cole a damn chill and he hated that he felt like shit walking down into the cells to take another look at his old colleague, locked away like some damn animal. He was probably still pissed off he'd left him with Issacs and was sedated again, so he could go diffuse whatever else was about to blow up between Katarina and Patricia Clark, but Cole knew he couldn't just leave him there, with two non-combatant agents.

His orders were clear.

Cole didn't want that for his cohort, but he also hated the fact that instead of handling this in-house, whatever sort of lonely crusade he wanted to go on--got him caught up in this mess with someone from the other side.

He was instructed to take someone with him. The other Hounds weren't an option currently, either out of office, tasked to other things or...Katarina who was to stay the hell away from this situation now because of what she did in interrogation. Bringing her along would rile up the Devil, and while that would generate some sort of reaction other than the silence that plagued them before, Cole and Jones agreed to keep her far away from Matt as possible.

He and Brakes arrived at the cells. Cole had his files in hand and Brakes followed like a damn shadow he didn't ask for. Cole's jaw flexed at the sight of the witch but he didn't address her, or look at her for too long.

His target was Matt.
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by: Matthew Cox
Matt's nostrils flared in rage and his unseeing eyes narrowed dangerously. The meek, cowed, silent agent from earlier was gone. In his skin was the weapon he'd been accused of becoming, had finally embraced being. The humanity oozed off of him, revealing the mutant mindset that saw more, sensed more, and experienced more.

Brakes moved to draw his wand and Matt tilted his head towards the wizard in a quick, bird-like gesture.

"Round three for torture, Cole? You did the physical with the squealer and the mental with the sedative. What's next? Good Cop, Bad Cop?"

Okay, so that wasn't the wait and assess that Cora had told him, but Matt was furious. His chest heaved with the anger that was building in him like a storm. He bared his teeth in a challenging grin. Whatever Brakes did, he didn't have he stomach to hurt him. Whatever this duo did, he could endure. The Dark Lady had taught him that much at least.
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by: Cole Callaway
“The only bad cop in here is you.”

It was unlike him to say such a thing, and if he heard correctly, that response drew a gasp from Brakes. He paid him no mind. Cole should have known better than to feed into someone whose mind, body and spirit had already been tried by horrendous things like curses. He should have known better than to fight fire with the fiery temper worn by the Devil, but at four o’clock in the morning, the barrier of professionalism, personal feelings and protocols were beginning to crumble. He was worn by time, patience, stress and anxiety and everything being bunched up in that pit of his stomach was enough to make anyone sick.

“If restraining you at your request and sedating you for the safety of any more of our men is torture, then that curse, or whatever, that everyone’s so quick to tell me about, must be pretty weak.”

Cole handed off the file to Brakes for now and put his hands in his pockets as he stared directly at Matt. His anger didn’t scare him. “Giving you another chance, Mr. Cox. Speak now or we’ll forever hold your freedom.” He said coldly, his tired, sunken eyes were locked on his target.
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by: Matthew Cox
"Fuck you, Cole!"

Matt snarled the curse with more heat and venom than he'd felt in weeks. He was the bad cop? He was the victim in this carnival of bullshit!

"I agreed to the restraints as a show of trust for you and you're going to throw them back in my face even though you knew I was on the edge of a panic attack?! After your incompetence in letting KATARINA of all people into the room where I was fucking SHACKLED to the table?!"

He was close to losing control of his rage again. Matt stopped his tirade, panting open mouthed in an attempt to cool off the fire roaring in his chest.
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by: Coraline Larson
The Dark Lady broke her silence at the agent's retort, a chilling and almost manic laugh bubbling out of the raven-haired woman. Her grey-green eyes flashed dangerously as she mocked the two agents.

"Oh, you are just adorable, Cole was it? How charming it is to finally meet you..."

The Dark Lady grinned, malevolence and fury pouring off her in an almost palpable wave. This is the man that had hurt Matt. And now he was mocking her skill, her control of the curse? Oh if he only knew...

At Matt's furious outburst Cora signed to him. {Do not engage. Not yet.}

"I'd say your record today would firmly point you out as the 'bad cop', Cole. Allowing a prisoner to be harmed under your charge? Tsk tsk... Openly threatening him too? My, my... just going for the gold, aren't you?" Derisive laughter rang from the assassin's cell.
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by: Cole Callaway
Cole smirked, but decided he wouldn’t turn around or even look the woman in the eye because she wasn’t of any matter to him. Not yet. Instead he rolled his eyes and cast a glare over his shoulder at her attempt to intimidate him with her candor. Beat cop with metro, investigator with paranormal…he’d seen and heard enough of this type of bollocks. “Pleasure’s all yours, I’m sure.” He responded. But that was that. Her laughter, though eerie and rather chilling still didn’t convince him to give her the courtesy of turning around. He didn’t have the time or the patience for this bullshit.

"I HARDLY think you're in the position to talk to me about incompetence, MR. COX." Cole slammed his hand against the bars, and the loud clang of his ring hitting the metal sent a loud ring through the open acoustics of the stone and metal brig. Katarina’s infiltration was a mistake and there would be repercussions for that soon, he was sure of it. Nevertheless, Cole didn’t falter, stagger, or show any signs of backing down, other than taking a beat to mind his heart. It was pumping so fast, thumping aggressively against his chest. “You aren’t exempt from anything, soldier. You know protocol. You know I’m bound to it. Just because I’m not some vigilante bugger like yourself, doesn’t mean we aren’t fighting for a good cause.”

The sad part was, he didn’t hate Matt. He didn’t want to see him locked up like this.

"I was sent down here to warn you that this is your chance to give confession. Otherwise, the charges against you are obstruction, bringing harm to your own men…treason.” Cole had toned it down some. His voice was low, but it was still stern, meant to be kept between them, though his charges were hardly a secret.
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by: Matthew Cox
Was that...Matt's gaze turned upwards slightly as he listened to the hollow ringing of the metal. It wasn't anchored into the ceiling properly....interesting.

His focus snapped back down to Cole as the threat became clear. Confess, or be locked up forever.

"Don't bullshit me, Cole..."

Matt shook his head slightly. There was more to why he was down here. Confession wasn't a get out of jail free card.

"Even if I could confess everything to you, the patron saint of Protocol, I'm not stupid enough to think that means I walk out of here. What's the hook under the bait?"

He could attack Cole through the bars, he realized. A quick vision of grabbing the man and getting his keys came to Matt. Deliberately, Matt took a step backwards away from he fellow agent.


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