If I were the smartest person in the world ... oh wait. I am.

-Nadia

Information was power. That gave the interrogation subject immense power because they had all the answers. The key was to shift that power.

One way to do this was to restrict the subject's sense of time and place. Leave them isolated. Keep them off balance. Second and more importantly, come armed with your own knowledge. Meaning know the subject. Know who they were, what they wanted, what they needed, who they cared for. That insight would give you power over the subject.

So far, knowing proved the most difficult task of yet.

Peacemaker kneaded the bridge of his nose. "That's all very useless," he barked at the young woman seated before him. "Can you at least tell me what tha hell I'm looking at?"

Nadia was the white Pawn assigned to work with him on the Texan inmate. As far as Peacemaker could figure out, Nadia's purpose was to make his task of preparing for the interrogation impossible. She sat at a computer console quilted with a dozen screens, each depicting something different. Her white uniform had been traded in place of camo cargo pants, a tank top, and a purple beanie hat with cat ears.

"Could you be a bit more vague?" Nadia shot back.

"That its skin?" Peacemaker jabbed at the screen. "I looking at a genetic experiment? An alien?"

Nadia pried a lollipop out of her mouth. "Naw, dude. Far as I can tell, it's some sort of exoskeleton. There's someone or something under it."

"Well what is it? Chinese tech? Spandex? Tha fairy godmother? What?"

"Search me," she said. "It's resisting our scans. Tried removing it but it keeps growing back."

"You get paid ta give me problems? Tell me what you do know."

Nadia gave a lavished roll of her chestnut eyes. "That could take a while. To save us the time, I'll assume you just want to know what info I have on the Texan." She swung to the consul, expertly navigating the screens. "We examined the samples we extracted. Got a good look at their microscopic makeup-"

"Once again," Peacemaker broke in. "Useless."

She spun back to him. "Maybe if you told me what you were looking for. That is unless you'd rather play a few more rounds of Guess What I'm Thinking."

Peacemaker forced his breath to come evenly. Whites. "What's wearing the exoskeleton?" he said through gritted teeth. "Can ya tell me that?"

"Well ... we did get resident traces of DNA off the material-"

"DNA. You didn't think to mention that before?"

"You didn't ask, brawny boy. And you're the one in charge of the questioning? My four year-old niece is more direct than you."

"Get any hits from the system?"

"Nope. But DNA looks human."

"Okay, your job, find out what's wearing that thing."

"You mean who's wearing it," she corrected.

Peacemaker glanced at his watch. Not much time left. He was expected belowground on the hour. And he still didn't know what approach he was using.

Of the fifteen interrogation techniques, over half were inapplicable. From his brief interaction with the Texan, Peacemaker knew it — or he now that they knew it was human — responded to a calming approach. The Texan seemed naive and trusting from the way he stood down after only a brief talk. That meant inexperience. The suspicious part of Peacemaker's brain whispered, Unless he wanted to get captured. It wasn't like their organization didn't have enemies. And the thing just happened to show up in the same city as a covert op?

Peacemaker turned to the white Pawn. "That thing," he nodded to the image of the Texan, "could it get loose? Saw it shrug off plasma blasts like they were snowballs. Then it turns around and fries my whole team without firing one shot."

Nadia beamed. "I know, right? It's masking its output, but I think that baby could pack enough juice to wipe out the whole base."

Peacemaker felt his heart rate spike. "You didn't think about mentioning that earlier!"

"Chill your pants, chief. You're safe as a baby duck." She tapped the screen, enhancing the image of the restraints. "Helped put the finishing touches on myself. This baby can hold a Tamaranian on steroids."

"Say that again," he breathed out. "In English."

"It'll hold, dude. The energy buildup won't reach critical levels for a while."

"What energy build up?"

"Didn't tell you? It's recharging. Like a cell phone. It's this little device you plug into the wall-"

Peacemaker took slow deep breaths. Whites. He went to the intercom and called for Midnight. No, it could not wait. And no, he couldn't explain over the line. This was a priority one matter, you worthless desk jockey.

He punched the device to illustrate the urgency, denting the casing.

"You don't get Midnight down here now, and I mean right. Now. I will find you. You hear me? And when I'm done they'll be able to fit you in a shoebox."

"She's on her way, sir!" the desk jockey's voice piped over the intercom.

Peacemaker grunted, and returned to the white Pawn while he waited. Nadia stared at four screens simultaneously without blinking. The images flashed by, showing bird's eye view of houses, buildings, landscapes. Having studied the region thoroughly for his mission, Peacemaker immediately recognized the area. El Paso.

"What you up to?" he asked.

"What you told me to."

"Let me ask again. What are you up to?"

"The who, dude." She paused, turning to clarify, "Not like that retro British boy band, The Who." She chuckled at her own reference.

Peacemaker bent over her. "Call me sir, pipsqueek."

"Only if you call me Almighty and omnipotent overlord." Nadia spun the chair back to her desk. "I'm trolling satellite footage of El Paso; backtracking his movements to find where our Texan originated, and thus get the who. Once again, no relation to the boy band."

Peacemaker bent forward, at last impressed. "And?"

"If you'd shut your trap for half a sec I'd have it already. Uh, sir," she added when he cracked his knuckles.

The door opened behind him and Peacemaker turned. But instead of greeting Midnight, he faced another black Knight. Her eyes were a light brown, watchful like his own. Her hair was chin length and dark enough to match her shirt. He glanced at her embroidered name tag. So this was Midnight's pupil. Black King's favorite Knight. Sasha Bordeaux.

Bordeaux held two styrofoam cups, one of which she offered to Peacemaker. He accepted. No point in being petty even if she was technically his rival. They were just two Knights caught in the scrimmage between their superiors. They settled side by side, one arm crossed at their middles, the other holding the steaming cup in front of their mouths, staring at the monitors as though surveying a horizon.

"Didn't know the keep started up Casual Friday," Bordeaux said sipping her coffee. Peacemaker snorted. His thoughts exactly.

"It's Wednesday," Nadia said, oblivious to the implication.

Bordeaux was a stark contrast from her teacher in many ways. Where Midnight was a blazing rampage of movement and urgency, Bordeaux was thoughtful. Her voice was soft and measured, her face a carefully crafted mask of neutrality. Everything was done with consideration, as though Bordeaux spent time analyzing every possible outcome before so much as blinking.

"Called for Midnight," Peacemaker said.

"You got me," was Bordeaux's answer. "What'd you find?"

He downed the coffee in one scorching gulp and chucked the cup in the trash. "Bringing this thing here was a bad idea," he told her. "Think it allowed itself ta be captured. The Pawn told me it's a threat to the castle."

"Blow it sky high," Nadia chipped in.

"I was told the prisoner was secure," Bordeaux said.

"Not knowing much about it, I'd say we were making an educated guess," he said.

"Is the threat immediate?"

"We got a few days," Nadia said with a shrug.

"How many?"

"Can't tell without longer observation." The Pawn clapped her hands together and leaned back. "Oh, I am good," she praised. "Gather round, chickadees." Nadia moved an image from one of her many secondary screens to the main one. "This is the intersection where our Texan first showed up. See that rinky dink garage on the corner? Can't access any security feed from the inside, but traffic cameras give us an adequate view. This is footage a few hours before we picked up the alert."

The scene played in fast forward, cars on the street stopping, speeding, a few people entering and exiting the garage.

Peacemaker breathed out through his nose. "I'm assuming this has something ta do with the prisoner. But maybe I'm givin' ya too much credit."

Nadia rolled her eyes. "Dude, you'd have to take out a loan to give me half the credit I deserve." She paused the image and pointed at two figures. "Beard guy is the only one working the garage and all the customers have left. Then skinny kid goes in." The footage jumped ahead to the scene of a man approaching the garage. "Then mangey goes in." Another time jump. "Last of all, some thug. Around here, 911 is called."

"If there's a point-"

"Keep your shorts on, chief. Okay, so we have four people inside; beard guy, skinny kid, mangy, and thug." At this point the footage played at normal speed.

The traffic had died to nonexistence. Judging from the angle of the shadows, the sun was setting. Stillness on the frame except for the spinning numbers of the timestamp. Then, a flash lit the inside of the garage, so fast Peacemaker thought it might have been a glitch in the recording.

"Muzzle flash," Bordeaux said. And she was right, he realized. A gun had been fired within the building.

Seconds later, there was a second burst of light, this one more intense. It reminded him of a flash of lightning. Then a figure fled the building. Peacemaker squinted to see who. The thug. And just in time. The police arrived on the scene. Then, the Texan emerged from the garage. It paused, glanced at the cop, down either side of the street, then ran. The image froze on pause.

Nadia spun towards them. "Police report stated that there were two people taken to the emergency room from that shootout. One man named Luis Rivas; an employee at the garage. Second, Alberto Reyes; garage's owner." She pulled up their drivers licenses as she said their names. Peacemaker easily identified them as the beard guy and mangy.

"That's three out of four," Nadia said, her excitement reaching its peak.

"You think the kid's in the suit?" Peacemaker said slowly, realizing what she must be implying.

"Well he didn't evaporate, slick. And no one else entered the building. The Texan had to come from somewhere. Ergo ..."

"The kid is our prisoner," Bordeaux breathed. It was the first hint of emotion she had shown; surprize. "Can you get a clear image of him from the traffic cam?"

"Done and done. Already cross referenced it with yearbook photos in the area." Nadia tapped the keyboard. "Say hello to our Texan mystery man. Boy really. He's only sixteen."

The image of a teenager popped on the main screen. The Knights eyed the photo. The boy had chin length hair and a caramel toned face, which was smooth except for a lean patch of hair at his chin. The jeering of some unseen cameraman made his smile forced and awkward.

"You found all that in the time it took me to drink half a cup of coffee?" Bordeaux said.

Nadia beamed, her grin cocky. "Like I said: you can't afford the credit I deserve." She passed Peacemaker a tablet explaining, "Uploaded what I could find on the kid and his family."

Peacemaker scrolled through the file. At first glance, no red flags popped up. No suspicious trips to international hotspots. No apparent affiliations with known organizations on the watchlist. Yet. There was always something. And he would find it. One way or another. Even if he was only-

Christ, did she say sixteen? He double checked, scowling at the information. What had this kid gotten himself mixed up in?

Not his problem, he reminded himself. Texan wasn't the first kid who'd been sucked into a rogue cause and wouldn't be the last.

He tucked the device under his arm and asked the Pawn, "You're sure it's contained?"

"Stuck like gum on your shoe. No worries, chief."

"Page me if anything changes."

Bordeaux stopped him as he turned to leave. "I'd like to observe the interrogation if that's alright."

And here it was. The play. Peacemaker considered. He was supposed to keep the interrogation to himself so black Queen would have the advantage. But Bordeaux was a fellow Knight. You just didn't give one of your own the shaft. And why should Queen have the advantage? The more everyone knew the better, right?

"Couldn't hurt," he said and shrugged. Bordeaux gave a nondescript nod. He had the feeling that if he'd said no he would have gotten the same nod; neither thanking or condemning; guarded.

The Knights moved to the lift. Midnight might not be pleased with her tagging along, but Peacemaker reasoned that if Bordeaux got any leverage on the case he could call in this favor. He shook his head. Look at him, already thinking like a politician.

The trip down into the mountain's depths was silent. Peacemaker wasn't a talker to begin with. And he had a lot on his mind, all of it made more complicated by the fact that it was centered around a teenage kid. This was part of something bigger. He could feel it. So did Bordeaux. He saw it in the way she stared straight ahead as the elevator plummeted; like she was trying to force the brushed metal doors to open to a passage of truth.

He jumped when he realized Bordeaux was using the reflective surface to watch him. Midnight sure knew how to train them.

"You been in the zoo before?" she asked.

He shook his head. "First time. But the Texan's not the first I threw away," he said. "Just hope I don't run into anyone I know." She almost smiled at that. But the twitch at her lips could have been an itch.

The keep's prison, internally referred to as the zoo, was located thirteen miles under a mountain range. It was where all the creeps were kept that didn't deserve the light of day, but were too useful to get rid of. The international and political hostages that were shelved until needed, kept secure from rescue attempts or assassinations from their own people to keep them silent. Intergalactic criminals. Clones. Inter-dimensional invaders. Beings summoned or twisted by arcane magic. Even rumored to be a few time travelers in the mix. Anyone and everything too dangerous to know about let alone come face to face with.

Peacemaker and Bordeaux used three different elevators and passed a dozen security checkpoints. The upper levels housed the traditional cell doors; bar chic. Even at this ungodly hour, he could make out bodies leaning against the bars, their forms shadows, their eyes dark jewels. Shrieks echoed hollowly against the stone walls from night terrors or those so forgotten the very act of living was too horrific.

Then iron plated doors with a plexiglas observation window. He glanced over and from the window a creature stared back with large orange eyes. He had a moment to register that instead of a mouth there was a wide, curved beak. Then he passed.

Deeper, vault doors were put into place. Sometimes the cells had no doors at all, prisoners lowered into a room and left there with no intention of being removed. Which one would the kid be put in when they were done? Peacemaker quickly shook his head, again reminding himself, not his problem.

To get into the holding area where the Texan was kept, they went through retinal, finger, DNA, and a few other screenings. He wouldn't have been surprised if they asked him to take off his boot for a toeprint. Once waved through, they were escorted to the proper cell. Rows of vault doors lined either side of the hallway. A complicated series of bars and pressurized seals accompanied many doors. Some had an extra layer of a shimmering blue forcefield. The door they came to had one of those force fields. Their escort entered a series of complicated codes by hand and voice, swiping cards, turning keys. Peacemaker guessed that at the main desk a guard was also entering in authentication. Rule of the keep: no one holds all the cards.

Whatever they did, it worked. The forcefield flickered out, a loud clack sounded as locks ratcheted back, and a soft hiss escaped from the airtight room. The escort informed them that they were being observed and would have to leave after thirty minutes as standard procedure. They were not to touch the prisoner, give the prisoner anything, yada, yada, yada. He'd heard it all before. One last thing, if the prisoner tried to get loose, push the red button. It was big, shiny, located at the wall. Couldn't miss it.

"And what's the red button do?" Peacemaker said, treating the escort to his most intimidating staredown. "Cuz if it floods the room with poison or something I'll take my chances with openin' the door and hopin' for the best." Again, Bordeaux's lip itched.

The escort assured him it only produced a shock to the prisoner. The vault door glided to the side, gears whirring. The two Knights entered, door sealing behind them. There was a sickening snick, then a louder crack as the locks re-engaged. A small sucking noise as the door was pressurized.

A sinking sensation weighed at Peacemaker's innards and he saw Bordeaux's shoulders go ridged. The soldier in them both wanted a retreat; some clear exit plan. Being locked in an airtight cube under several million tons of rock didn't sit well with him.

He gripped the tablet and forced his unease to the back of his mind. He had his mission: Find out why a kid. Why this kid. What was the play. What was the exoskeleton. What was it for. Why El Paso. And why, why was black King so interested.

Bordeaux positioned herself by the wall, taking the role of observer as promised. And, he noted, she was in reach of the shock button should anything go awry. He gave her a brief nod and faced the prisoner.