Chapter 15 - by Sugar Faerie

Jordan and Celeste

"What are they doing?" Celeste asked, watching a few secret police of a higher rank sort out the captured rebels under Commander Khashoggi's instructions.

Jordan shrugged carelessly. She wasn't interested in this part of the operations, and she could tell most of her collegues weren't, either. "They're sorting out the ones that might know something," she said with disinterest. "They'll put those in solitary. The others will go in the glass cells. They aren't needed for interrogation."

Celeste nodded in understanding, her eyes still on the Bohemians. "Oh."

Jordan examined each of the Bohemians visually, ranking them in her mind. Some looked scared, others looked sad, and some looked as if they had no idea what was going on at all.

There was a little blonde that caught her eye, one of the solitaries. Jordan recognised her as being the rebel that had tried to run forward as the idiot back in the raid had died, only to be held back by one of the males. As he fell she had sort of slumped against the man holding her, as if in shock.

His girlfriend, probably.

She was standing with the other solitaries, back straight and arms folded, with not a single glimpse of fear on her face. Proud, defiant and just a little bit haughty. Killer figure, too.

Nice.

Celeste followed her collegue's gaze, and gave an unconcious shudder. She knew what Jordan would probably do, what that girl was in for. She was young, not older than about twenty-three or so.

Poor thing, Celeste found herself thinking.

"You going to take her?" she asked Jordan in a low voice. Slight distaste and something that was almost fear flashed across her features in a matter of seconds.

Jordan gave a short, humourless laugh. Celeste was only two years younger than her, and yet she was still so innocent. Jordan bent down to whisper in the other woman's ear. "You know the answer to that," she breathed, playing with a strand of Celeste's smoke-coloured hair.

Celeste shivered at Jordan's touch. Her gaze once again went to the rebels, to the woman watching the commander sift through her friends. Her eyes were hard, her face pale dispite her fearless expression.

The other SP led the solitaries away, while the boys dragged the others in to the glass cells, throwing them in in twos and threes. Jordan followed the solitaries, a mocking smile playing on her face.

Celeste took a deep breath. She would never dream of saying this to a senior officer, least of all Jordan, but it slipped out anyway. "Don't- don't hurt her too much, please," she said to Jordan's retreating back.

Jordan stopped, and turned to face her. Celeste swallowed. She didn't know how to defend herself, couldn't guess what the other woman would say. Jordan's cruelty was something that both fascinated and appalled her at the same time.

Jordan's smile increased. Well, she thought. She does have a personality after all.