Cellblock B, South London Detention Facility

The door hissed open, but Awolowa Mugabe did not bother to rise from his bunk…or indeed to open his eyes. At least not until the newcomer spoke, for Mugabe did not expect a feminine voice. "You there, prisoner!" was all it said, its tone harsh, but the Oompa-Loompa still sat up in curiosity and looked to see exactly what manner of woman had just hailed him. She was a very attractive young blonde, her hair bobbed short…though her looks were somewhat reduced by the cold expression on her face. She was dressed in a black bodysuit, a heavy silver pistol strapped to either thigh; though he had never seen her in person before, Mugabe knew automatically who this must be. His face split into its trademark oily grin.

"How you doin', Miss Beauregarde? Don' take dis de wrong way, but you look much bettah in real life den in de photographs. I done thought deah was somethin' happen to yo face?"

Violet Beauregarde smiled coolly and tipped her head a bit to one side. "I had several old injuries repaired recently. I'm pleased that you noticed. But enough small talk. I'm here because…"

"Because General Bucket done escape, and you tinkin' you gonna use me as some kind o' tool or somethin' to bring him back in."

"Mr. Mugabe, some very powerful people want you dead. Do you really think that a common piece of underworld garbage like yourself has the slightest chance in front of a magistrate?"

Mugabe's cool smile now mirrored Violet's own. "I tink you can kiss my oss, dot's what I tink. I'd rathah be shot heah den interrogated and shot by de Resistance. Wot you tink gone happen when you try an' slip someone into de enemy camp wit a radio and all kind o' crap on 'em?"

"Oh, but we've learned you see," Violet said softly. "We have some new…equipment…that we're certain even the most powerful scanners won't detect. We have things you wouldn't believe, Mr. Mugabe. And the mission is simple. No assassination, no sabotage…all you have to do is play the part of a prisoner. Our prisoner. Blend in with the other Oompa-Loompas and just listen. And when the Resistance finally frees you…which we will make sure they do…all you have to do is follow them home and then transmit one little radio signal. We'll do the rest. You will receive a full pardon in exchange for your services, of course…and I don't suppose you've heard about the reward for Bucket's capture?"

"I mighta heard a ting or two from de guards," Mugabe said offhandedly. "But I tink de price is a little low."

"Double or nothing then," Violet said with a smile. "Complete this mission and you'll get twice the reward for Bucket, plus your choice of residence in any district of Nova Britannia. You can spend the rest of your days in luxury, Mr. Mugabe…all we need is your help in bringing a known terrorist to justice."

"An' you promise you can get me in quiet…no clumsy handlahs tippin' me off to de rebs?"

"Mr. Mugabe, with our new surveillance and communications systems, even you won't know they are there except when transmitting."

Mugabe heaved himself off the bunk, ambled over, and stuck a hand between the bars…there was no disguising the greedy light now glowing in his eyes. "It will be my pleashah to serve my country. When do we start, boss?"

Violet turned away from the offered hand, two guards stepping forward behind her. "We begin now, Mr. Mugabe."