IAB is a cop's worst nightmare. When the rat squad goes head hunting, you can be sure they're trying their damnedest to bring someone down. They have no qualms about bringing down good cops, cops who're being set up. They prey on whoever gets handed to them and not search out who it is that's doing the handing. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, right?

I'm not claustrophobic, but this sterile room is unnervingly tiny with its lack of windows and anything else for that matter. It looks surprisingly like the interrogation room a few floors down, complete with gray cinderblock walls. One steel table, two chairs, and not a bit of warmth in sight.

The large Hawaiian man sitting across from me is boring holes into my head with his eyes. He puts his hands on the table and laces his fingers together. I prop my elbow on the table, fingers at my lips, eyebrow cocked, daring him to start his barrage of questions. I'm not afraid of him. I know what he wants to hear and because I don't give a damn anymore, I'm going to roll over and take it. I'm not going to give him what he wants, but in by doing that, I'll probably just be doing their dirty work for them. Feeding him bullshit would just expedite the process.

"Detective Goren, you're aware of why you're here, right?" he finally asks. His voice has false warmth in it, making me hate him even more. He doesn't care what happens to me, just so long as in the end, I'm gone.

"It could be any number of reasons, actually," I respond, gesturing slightly. "Now, let's see, it could be that I'm insubordinate, I'm a 'rogue cop' as you put it once, I'm in league with the Devil…"

He bristles slightly, but sees fit to interrupt me. "You have several files on your computer that are linked to organized crime. What do you have to say about that?"

Curve ball. Not what I was expecting. "Were they in folders organized by family?" Internally, I roll my eyes. Lame.

"Either you know something or you don't and I'm inclined to think that you do." I've pissed him off enough that his voice has lost that façade of caring it had before.

"No, I don't," I answer firmly.

"Then how did you come to have these files?"

"I don't know that, either. I certainly didn't put them there."

"So, what you're telling me is that some how, you have incriminating files on your machine, yet, you didn't put them there? My mistake, Detective, perhaps I should be talking to Harvey instead." He paused and started to bore holes into my head again. "I'll ask you again: How did you get those files?"

"I. Don't. Know."

He sits back and sighs, apparently content enough with my answer. He knows he's not going to get anywhere with this line of questioning.

He leans forward again. "You are not to tell anyone of this meeting. No one is to know I questioned you about the files. Do you understand?"

Unusual request. The light overhead flickers a couple times, drawing my attention to it. "Yes."