A scene with Jet and one of the criminals. I've spent quite a bit of time trying to get this right... both the amount of anger Jet shows, and how much of that is either staged, or not.
Not sure if this is actually legal or not.... but from what I gather, cops will try a number of things to encourage a suspect to voluntarily waive their right to silence, and an empty threat from a 'foreigner' that they might be extradited and airlocked.
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
Not sure if this is actually legal or not.... but from what I gather, cops will try a number of things to encourage a suspect to voluntarily waive their right to silence, and an empty threat from a 'foreigner' that they might be extradited and airlocked.
Quote:Ruth emerged from the interview room sighing lightly to herself.________________________________
“Well?” asked Jet.
“As we expected, he’s taken the Fifth.” she said.
“So we go with the plan then?”
“Yup. Remember... just don’t touch him.”
.
Jet nodded, “Right, right.” she held up her hand, before taking a deep breath and opening the door. Quietly, she stepped inside before closing the door behind her with a very deliberate gentleness.
Derek looked up at the white armoured woman who’d just entered the room, feeling a creeping unease build.
“What... who are you?”
His voice small and weedy in the white concrete room, already sweating, a fearful nausea rising up the back of his throat.
“I’m Gesele Jaguar, from the Panzer Kunst Gruppe.” the cyborg introduced herself calmly “And you’re going to talk to me, right?”
The shaking was getting worse. Jet stood herself at the opposite end of the table, tensely staring down at him.
Derek glanced away. “Hey, I already took the Fifth. You can’t make me say a word until I get a lawyer!” There was a nervous quiver in his voice.
Jet seemed to ignore him, focusing on the plan.“Those people you’re working for, those people we know you’re funneling cash to... they’re called Boskonians. They’re our enemy. They’re responsible for a lot of death, a lot of suffering.” she hardened her voice. “There’s a lot of hate for them... and those erdeside dickheads like you who support them.”
“Here look... I ain’t never even been up to space. I’m a US Citizen, I got rights here!”
“I don’t give two wet shites about your rights man. Now listen to me... A little shite like you, we don’t give two fucks about...we’ll leave you to Uncle Sam. What we do care about is what you know, and who you were working for.”
,
“Hey... you know what these people do to rats.”
”Yes I do. And you know what happens to shitehawks like yourself when we get a hold of yous up there?”
Derek noticed the robot-woman had gripped both her hands into fists.
“No...”
Jet’s expression changed to an almost savage grin.
“Have you ever seen a person explode in space?”
Images of half-remembered sci-fi horror movies flickered through the suspects mind. A nice look of surprise, followed by eyes and tongue buldging out and turning red. Blood boiling and bubbling through the ears, nose and out a silently screaming mouth. Veins swelling up a dirty crimson before the final.... pop.
“What.... what’s in it for me?”
Jet forced her voice to sound calm and cold. “If you’re willing to talk about this down here, we won’t push for you to be extradited. Trust me, it’ll be better for everyone involved if you cooperate with the cops down here.”
Jet stepped up to the door and gripped the handle. With an effortless snap. she pulled it free, looked down at it, showing surprise before making a show of searching for somewhere she could put it. She tossed it gently on the table, allowing it to skittle off the tape recorder before coming to rest in front of Derek.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to ponder on that before sending Trooper Ruth back in.” she said, pulling the door open using the stub of the handle, before stepping out.
Derek just stared at the handle... clearly reinforced and designed to resist any human attempt at tampering with it... and the robot woman who’d taken on that tiger single handed had just snapped it off like it was a matchstick.
Was it just his imagination, or had the chair he was sitting on suddenly started to feel very uncomfortable.
Jet closed the door behind her and blew out a long breath, leaning back against the wall.
“So it worked?”
“Yeah,” she said, not making eye contact. “Sorry about the door,”
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?