Snowy had taken Roger's request to behave quite seriously. It was wise advice, for under such circumstances it was almost always better to be underestimated by a potential opponent. As long as they were unaware of her abilities, it would be easier to make an escape with a minimum of harm to anyone...assuming, of course, that it became necessary to escape. More likely than not, it wouldn't be; after all, Roger HAD given her his word, and she knew in her heart that he would keep it. He always kept his word; it was a point of honor for him. It was one of the things she loved so much about him.
Still, old habits died hard, and it was only natural to fall back on her early training. As a prisoner, it was best to seem completely harmless. The less threatening she appeared, the fewer obstacles would be placed in her way, and the more careless her captors would be. She made it a point to obey every command without question, as if she were someone who meekly accepted the authority of the Military Police. To behave otherwise would only make these men more nervous, and that would not be good. She also walked slowly as if her heavy chains weighted her down; no reason for anyone to know they were no problem at all for her to manage.
Apparently her little performance worked. By the time they reached the cell block, her sharp ears caught her keepers whispering softly to each other, wondering why there was such a fuss being made over her. Even better, after she entered the small barred cubicle and her leg and wrist restraints again connected to the floor, the senior guard decided to take pity on her and not shorten them the way they had been in the interrogation room. He muttered that it didn't make any sense to him since she'd be alone here, so why not let her have freedom of movement? He then warned her not to touch the thick bars of her jail, since they were both electrified and silver-plated.
Kirei thanked him for his kindness with polite warmth, mindful to be neither too gushy nor too formal. Such manipulation was another art she'd been well-schooled in, and she was soon pleased to see she hadn't lost her touch. The senior guard started to tip his cap to her in response, then caught himself and simply nodded before leading his men away.
As they walked off, the double doors locking shut behind them, Snowy did a deliberate stretch, glancing around her new surroundings as she did so. She noticed there were two video cameras in the hallway, one trained on her, the other on the hallway itself. There was also a ceiling air vent, but it was outside her cell. There were no windows anywhere that she could see.
The little werewolf then moved to her bunk and sat down on it, the wrist chains spilling onto the mattress beside her. She pulled the blanket around herself as if cold, hugging herself and shivering slightly. The movement pulled most of the loose chain into her lap, hidden beneath the blanket. Cautiously, so as not to disturb the covering, she took about a foot of chain between her small hands and gave it a sharp, calculated tug. She felt it give, then brushed all the links with her fingertips to feel for the damage. A couple of the links had split. She smiled inwardly at the results; there'd be no problem snapping them if needed.
Snowolf wondered how heavily the bars were charged. It had to be fairly high since she could hear their faint crackle in the silence. Touching them barehanded could be dangerous; nudging them with the rubber sole of her shoe would tell her nothing. She needed something that was insulated enough to let her feel the charge but not get killed in the process...there was only one thing she could think of to do.
Still keeping the blanket draped around her, she partially shape-shifted one hand. As it lengthened, the entire palm became leathery, and thick white fur covered the back of her hand like dense velvet. Carefully, so that the camera couldn't see what she was doing, she lightly brushed her knuckles against the bar so that the fur barely touched the gleaming surface.
There was a tiny spark of blinding blue light and a popping sound; she jerked her hand back instantly. The smell of ozone and burning hair filled the air, but she was unharmed. She sighed, relieved but still disappointed. No touching those bars! If she needed to escape, she'd have to wait for the cell to be opened.
A part of her laughed at the thought. Roger and Dorothy were going to get her out, what was she so concerned about? She decided to go back to the bunk and take a nap instead of playing POW. This was all just a misunderstanding, after all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In some ways, Ada understood Leon better than he understood himself. She was fairly certain that he'd get cold feet about handing Snowolf over to her, despite her threats to take Wayneright instead. If he could figure out a way to delay or even thwart her, he'd do so. She wondered if he'd told anyone about their conversation...Wong sighed. The boy had too many scruples for his own good. It would be far more sensible to let him sweat, and collect her prize without his forced cooperation.
As soon as she returned home from her visit with Kennedy, the lovely Asian hacked back into the MP computer network. Ordinarily, an "Assault and Battery" case would crawl through the overstressed system. However, this was no ordinary A and B, and she had a hunch it would be handled differently, even if one took the additional procedures of Animal Control into account.
It didn't take long for Ada to see her instincts were correct. Paradigm had sent an Inspector from the Home Office to interrogate the captured shapeshifter. That could only mean they had surmised their prisoner might be more than a typical run-of-the-mill werewolf.
This was not a good development. For all her earlier bravado with Kennedy, Wong knew she'd have little chance of snatching Snowolf from the hands of Paradigm Corp. It'd be much simpler to get her from the jail, but she'd have to move fast if she had any hope of succeeding.
Creating the necessary paperwork was easy. The hard part would be finding the right identity to borrow. It had to be someone higher up the food chain than Inspector Pierson, but not so high as to invite too much attention...maybe someone who worked for Paradigm's CEO?
Wong's fingers flew over her keyboard as she hunted through dozens of personnel files, searching for just the right person. Most of the people with the best sort of title were male, and there was no way she could fake that...maybe she ought to go a little higher, see who Rosewater's personal assistant was despite the additional risk? She chuckled with pleasure as she pulled up the file of Patricia Lovejoy. This would be too easy, simply a matter of substituting her own features beneath the blonde hair on a forged I.D. badge. As long as she showed enough cleavage and wore a wig, no one would pay any attention to her face.
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Now bespectacled and golden-haired, still wearing her snug red leather suit (after all, it showed off her weapons of mass distraction to perfection) and pulling a large dog-carrying cage, Ada returned to Military Police Headquarters shortly after noon. That was quite deliberate; she guessed most of the officers would be thinking about lunch and in no mood to dillydally.
Again, her assumption was correct. It didn't take long for her to be directed to the officer in charge of the prisoners. When the desk sergeant informed her that the individual she wanted was in isolation, she merely smiled and leaned forward before speaking, as if accidently offering him a better look down her top. She took a couple of deep breaths, waiting for his eyes to glaze over as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, then reminded him politely that this was a direct request from none other than Alex Rosewater himself. She had to repeat herself a second time to get his attention: "Uh, officer, did you hear me?"
"What? Oh, yes, ah...excuse me, don't know what happened there." Now flustered and blushing beet red, the poor man hemmed and hawed but ultimately couldn't say no. He hurridly signed and stamped all the paperwork okaying the change of custody, then tried to summon an officer to escort "Miss Lovejoy" to Snowolf's cell.
He was not very pleased to discover that every available man had been sent out to canvas the city for a child, including most of the security guards who were not on lunch break. Without looking up at her, he inquired politely if it would be okay to delay the transfer. Ada paused a moment before replying: "Do YOU think Alex Rosewater would mind?"
The desk sargeant wiped a sweatdrop from his brow. "This is against all regulations..." he muttered, pulling four different request forms from four different file cabinets. Squinting, he read through the miniscule print on all of them, signing and stamping each in several places, and then placed them on top of the pile he'd already okayed. Next, he pushed a button on his intercom, telling the man who answered that he would have to escort the personal assistant of Paradigm's CEO down to the isolation block. A few seconds of silence passed; finally the officer at the other end asked in a politely incredulous voice if he was being ordered to leave the security cameras unmanned.
"That's a direct order, private." Ada imagined the confused guard saluting automatically in response. The image made her smile despite herself; fortunately the desk sargeant thought the smile was for him. "Paradigm can always rely on us to do what is necessary," he told her with a sort of relieved pride at fixing this problem.
Ada thanked him prettily, giving him one last glimpse of her bosom as a reward as she leaned over to shake his hand. She laughed silently to herself all the way down the hallway, thinking of how he'd again broken out in a sweat. Men were such simple creatures!