Ricardo stepped through the crowd of people, the wet gray air tingling against his skin. The shuttle took off behind him. He was right in front of the IMB's headquarters, staring up at the towering brick, wider than most of the other buildings, with a flat face and no design. It was built for utility.

He went towards the imposing double doors. They were metal, with tightly woven bars behind their glass. He spotted another set right inside as he opened the door.

"Please state your name and reason for visitation."

It was a static voice through a speaker in the top right of the room. He didn't answer, instead grabbing onto the handle of the next door. It was locked, electronically bolted. He gave it a little shake to be sure. He focused his power, forming ice as well as he could around the lock, until it gave a small buzz, followed by a click. It slowly opened, his hand still on the door.

"Excuse me!" he yelled. "Your door opened!"

A receptionist inside was standing up from her chair, looking over at the door with a dumbfounded expression. Ricardo walked in, pretending to be confused.

He continued. "Hello? Anyone? I think the door messed up."

The receptionist picked up a phone, a much older type, and tapped onto its extensive keypad several times. After a second, she started talking into the smooth black rectangle.

"Hello? I need assistance at the entrance. The electronic door malfunctioned. Can you send someone to look at it immediately? There's someone here as well." She paused looking up. Ricardo was already gone. "He's gone and I don't have a name."

Ricardo slipped through a door as someone was coming out, giving them a wave and a downward nod as he passed by. The other guy waved back and kept walking.

On the other side of the door was a lobby, with bright white lights and the smell of disinfectant giving it a feeling like a hospital, but with gray walls. In the middle were three elevators, one closing it's doors.

"Hold the elevator!"

A weathered hand stuck out for a moment, right between the metal doors. They stopped in their tracks, reopening at the obstruction. Ricardo did a soft jog into the elevator.

"Thank you," he said.

The other man wore a beige trench coat, going down to his knees, with matching slacks. He topped it off with a dark brown fedora pulled just barely over his eyes. It was almost like a caricature of a detective.

"I don't recognize you," said the man. His voice was gravelly and coarse, like a lifelong smoker.

The elevator door shut behind Ricardo. "I'm from the Island Guard. I have a meeting with Director Sharp. Are you a detective?"

"Of course I'm a detective. Do I look like I could do anything else?"

"It's not good to make assumptions."

"Fair enough. Agent Phillips." The man held out his hand.

Ricardo took it. His skin felt like leather. "Captain Rodriguez."

"You don't have your uniform."

"Short notice call from off-duty. Do you mind showing me to her office? I got told the fifth floor, but wasn't given anything more specific."

Agent Phillips gave him a sideways glance. "Sure."

The elevator door opened. The two stepped out, with a field of cubicles behind some glass in front of them. Then two close metal prongs poked into Ricardo's back.

"Hands on your head. No sudden moves. If I feel a cold breeze I'm tazing you."

Ricardo slowly brought his hands to his head, locking his fingers together.

"How did you figure me out?" Ricardo asked.

"I lied. Why are you here?"

"I already placed the bomb. It's too late. Take me to Director Sharp now or I'll detonate it."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"You just came here to try and make a deal with the director? That's insane." He pulled the tazer away from Ricardo's back.

"You can read thoughts?"

"Nope. Agent Johnson! Get your ass over here!"

Grant sat up from his workstation, looking over the cubicle walls. He jogged over, gently opening the glass door on the way.

"Watch this kid. He's dangerous. Ice powers. I'm getting the director."

"Howdy," said Ricardo.

"Ricardo Rodriguez. An already infamous name for the stunt you pulled last week. To run into old Phillips here, too. Whatever you are planning is done."

Agent Phillips peeked into the room covered in blinds on the other side of the office. He stood back, letting the door close, only for it to be kicked open by an angered Director Sharp.

She glared over at Ricardo, while Grant just scoffed. She strutted over, holding out her arm from her side. A pure white sword, completely lacking texture, formed in the air, right in her hand. A look of concern came across Ricardo's face, but he kept his hands on top of his head. Instead of opening the glass door, she slashed the blade twice in front of her, more than a dozen feet away. The door fell apart into four pieces, each shattering as they hit the ground. The rest of the people in the office looked around in confusion until they spotted her, then they returned to their work. The frame of the door was completely untouched, only the hinges had been cut.

"She looks mad."

"She's had a rough week," Grant said.

She walked through the shattered glass without even looking down, keeping her eyes locked on to Ricardo. Once she had gotten just a few feet from him, she silently sized him up. He gave her a shitty forced smile.

"Johnson. Go back to your station."

"Yes ma'am." Grant went through the doorway, carefully stepping around the glass shards.

"Now, who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Ricardo Rodriguez."

"Supposedly a wanted criminal walks straight into my office. He claims he's the one who left a mess at the city's jewel. I wonder what goes through the head of such trash. They're like a pigeon. They'll just strut around like they own the place, and take a crap on the board. Just like the flock of shitheads in the city council." She started to circle around him.

"I'm not much of a chess player myself."

"So if you were Ricardo Rodriguez, what would you be doing here, in the headquarters of the IMB?" She put her empty hand on her hip, leaning onto it.

"I have an interesting proposition for any enterprising person looking to win the upcoming directorial election."

"That's a lot of big words. I'd have to ask you to say it again, but without beating around the bush." She passed behind him.

"More info costs something. Do you have somewhere we can talk? Standing here like an idiot with my hands on my head is rather demeaning."

"No."

"What a shame."

"Start talking, or I'll assume you are stalling time for something, and I can guarantee you won't like my response."

"I'm going to be-"

"My dear stranger, are you pretending to be a criminal still?" She came around from his other side, with him craning his neck around to see her. "The mayors wouldn't like that very much, and they do have a tendency to listen where they don't belong."

"So... if I... was to tell you that someone would unify District 13. Would you be interested in hearing the details? Of course, he'd have a suitable power already behind him."

A smile crept across Jessica Sharp's lips. "If someone was to tell me that, of course I would be interested. That sounds like it would be a matter of public security after all."

Ricardo looked across the office, almost everyone had gone back to their cubicles. Only a single face was visible. Agent Phillips was still standing right outside Jessica Sharp's office, staring at him.

"If one of your people was confident that I really was the criminal I claimed." Ricardo nudged his chin over towards Agent Phillips. "How would you assure him that I wasn't?"

She didn't look over. "It's not strange for two people within ten million to look alike. Don't you think?"

"I guess I'm a living example."

She stopped in front of him. "What kind of group would our theoretical unifier have behind him?"

Ricardo smirked. "He'd have a certain group you've been at odds with, specifically one from the shadows."

"Oh you have no idea how little that narrows it down."

He sighed. "Cyrus."

"Ah. So what would I get out this? And what would he want from me?"

"You'd get a more secure election, having a new platform to run on, after all. A cardboard scapegoat to boil over tensions with that you can knock over at any time."

"And?"

"And all he'd want is for his dear sister to get citizenship."

"What would his sister be named?"

"I can't tell you that. I'm not creative enough."

Director Sharp held up the sword, pointing it straight at Ricardo's heart. His eyes went wide for a moment, just before the sword vanished from her hand. It was a gesture for a handshake. He shakily took down his hands from his head, and clasped hers. A small card was in her palm.

"Nice to meet you. What's your name?" she asked.

"You can call me Ricky."

She let go of his hand. "Well Ricky, I'll be talking to you later. Make sure you get home safely."

He slowly walked back to the elevator, checking over his shoulder several times. On the ground floor, he passed by a mechanic checking the shorted door and a security guard watching him closely as he left.

He looked over the card that she had given him. It was just a small bit of firm paper, like a business card, but with just a phone number on it.

"That lady's fucking crazy," he said to himself.