Evie scrunches themself into their sagging hoodie, just like they used to when they were an insecure teenager. At 26, there is a lot that has changed about Evie since those days. But Ryan had said they needed to look like a non-threatening teenager to pull it off, so sagging hoodie it is.
Out of everything that's deteriorated since Evie's childhood, Las Vegas isn't one of them. Sin City has continued to live up to its name, even in 2040. Except instead of being run by rich businessmen and greedy corporations, the city's lawlessness has only expanded with new ownership - the Azure Dragon Club, League of the White Tiger, Vermillion Wings Clan, and House of the Obsidian Tortoise. The four leading "houses" of Sacramento's Asian crime families.
Evie's division in the U.S. military, WRAITH (Weaponized Response Against International Threats: Headquarters), has been tracking this Azure Dragon's outpost in Vegas for months. Usually, the government doesn't bother interfering with the houses unless things get egregious - after all, big cities would never concern itself with policing its sewer rats - but special circumstances calls for special exceptions.
The Strip isn't quite as crowded as they remember, mostly because Vegas' insufferable heat has only become even more smothering over the years. Sheltersuits just barely protect your shoes from melting off your feet on the smoldering concrete. But the lights are just as bright, so Evie is careful not to react under any stray looks.
Finally, they see it - the gaudy hotel modeled after some medieval castle. Vegas hotels are slippery mazes, designed with odd stairwells and random hallways to keep you from leaving. But Evie remembers the details from their intel, clear as day, like they always do. Walk past the glimmery lights, all of the ever-dinging slot machines. When you reach the wall of hologram ads for brightening cream, take a sharp right into the guest suites. There is a service elevator that runs between every odd floor. Find Room 4902 and 4904 - there is a barely-perceptible door that leads to the janitor's closet.
And behind the door to the janitor's closet, you'll find one of Azure Dragon's most illicit, most popular prostitution dens.
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Evie first found themself in an interrogation room when they were 16.
One minute, Evie had been sitting in class. It was Ms. McKnabb's god-awful trigonometry class, and Ms. McKnabb had looked thoroughly annoyed when the call came from the office. "Evie, please report to the office."
Evie was halfway through a problem and barely looked up. "I'm almost done this question-"
"It's your parents." Ms. McKnabb's voice was flat, bored.
That was what they focused on as they rushed to the office, a sick feeling in their stomach. Everything had been normal, this morning, at breakfast. Or had it? Was their mother's gaze lingering, when she poured Evie their cereal milk? Was there an extra hesitation in their father's voice when he wished them good luck for their Spanish test? But if something had really happened, Ms. McKnabb's wrinkly face would surely betray at least some sort of sympathy...
The truth was, Evie never really knew what their parents were up to, and Evie didn't want to know. They had... unconventional jobs, but they were always there to support and love Evie when they came back from school. So that was all that mattered. Sometimes, Evie worried about the dangers of their jobs, but their mother and father had never come home with even so much as a scratch on their faces.
"Evie." A deep voice stopped them before they could even open the door to the office. "We need to call you in for an interrogation. The transportation van is right outside."
The man, a pale ginger with a running scar along his strong jaw, introduced himself as Colonel McNamara as he took them to the station. He had a high and tight crew cut, as well as very serious eyes. "I'm very sorry about your parents." His face was tense, as though it strained him to say it.
Evie didn't stop crying for even a second.
They trailed Colonel McNamara listlessly through the glass facilities, which looked much more serious than any police station. It was clearly a government military base. They said nothing as he took them to a windowless room, clicking on a recorder. They didn't bother wiping away their snot when Colonel McNamara pulled a tablet and started swiping through it.
"Were you aware that your parents were involved with the highly dangerous terrorist organization, We Are Behind?" His tone was serious and undistracted. Evie had the sense that this man never laughed in his life.
"Y-yes," Evie said, through a sobbed hiccup. "Since I can remember."
Colonel McNamara raises an eyebrow and jots something down. "Good. And what did you know of their mission, something they referred to as OP-PALINURUS?"
Evie racked their brain, but the grief of finding out their parents had just died in an explosion was too distracting. There was a buzzing in their brain, a chaotic flurry of fury, loss, and excruciating pain. A small part of their brain whispered that their parents wouldn't like this, they never wanted the government to know anything about them, but what did all of that matter now? They were gone.
"I wasn't- they didn't really let me get involved, like some of the other kids." Evie felt a shiver of a shock, suddenly wondering where the rest of them were. "It was some big plan they were talking about, some sort of sabotage op that they were planning... I don't know."
Colonel McNamara looked up flatly. "'OP-PALINURUS' was a government plan to send humanity's best engineers, scientists, philosophers, and athletes to find the next Earth. It was the brainchild of our top scientists, and nearly a decade in the making."
Evie continues wiping their eyes, rubbing the skin raw. "Okay." They always tuned out when the adults started talking politics.
"Your parents, along with their friends, tried to destroy all fuels and the ships. Their idiotic calculations went terribly wrong, and they ended up creating a huge explosion that ruined billions in tax dollars and years of planning." There was a hard look to Colonel McNamara's eyes, and Evie could even sense his hatred for WAB rolling off of him. "Only that traitor, Ragnar Blomberg, survived."
It sent them into a fresh fit of tears, thinking of Ragnar who'd been like an uncle and a close friend to their parents. There'd be no more game nights, no more laughing over silly sitcoms in the living room...
For the first time, something in the Colonel's face softened slightly. "We can continue tomorrow, if you're tired. You'll have to go into foster care, since you're underaged. We'll make the necessary arrangements." He pushed his chair back and stood.
"Okay," Evie repeated meekly, wishing that they'd just wake up from this bad dream.
"Thank you for cooperating," Colonel McNamara said, after a beat, folding his tablet closed. Everything about the way he moved was so intentional and precise. In another life, it may have fascinated Evie, who could never quite seem to do things right. "Much more helpful than your sister."
Evie didn't have it in them to respond to that. Evie hadn't seen their sister in days now, and they had considered the possibility that the military men were lying when they said they also had her in custody. Their sister was not really someone who could be "held in custody". But that small comment was enough. It had all but directly confirmed that Evie's sister, somewhere, somehow, had had contact with this colonel in front of them.
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After all, Shailene always was a piece of work.
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"The younger, the better," Evie says, just like they had agreed with Ryan to say.
The sharp-gazed man scrutinizes Evie, sizing them up and down. "You don't look that old yourself."
"Which is why the younger, the better," Evie says flatly, not wanting to interact with this man any longer. His hand and neck wrinkles suggested heavy enhancements that he couldn't afford to finish.
"Seventeen?"
"Younger."
"We charge a premium on fourteen year olds," he says haughtily, his hair glinting dull and greasy in the dim lights of the parlor. Everything about this parlor is designed to be swanky, between its holographic lights and sleek surfaces, nothing can hide this man's sleaziness. "Usually the young ones are still performing in public. Only very few people can afford our rates for the 14-year-old."
Evie throws down a wad of cash, a rarity nowadays. "Not a problem."
He eyes the money and shakes his head firmly. "You're not understanding me. We're under very strict orders to protect the young ones."
Evie pulls out another wad. "What if I double it and give you half?"
Not long after, Evie is ushered into a polished glass hallway lined by uniform doors. The doors are lined with the same smooth material, but Evie can tell from its heft that it's steel underneath. They hug their hoodie closer to themself, trying to assure themself that the man is not looking back at them suspiciously every minute or so. Okay, so the wad of cash is suspicious. But there are a lot of trust fund children nowadays who have nothing to live for and nothing to spend on. Evie likes to think of them as zombies, these people who have given up on the world and wait for their deaths. Evie tries to channel their inner-zombie.
"Right in here," the man says gruffly, stopping abruptly at a nondescript door. He taps his ID on an electronic keypad, and a heavy lock clicks. "Not too much monkey business, alright?"
Evie shrugs noncommittally and enters the perfume-laden room. The door clicks shut behind Evie. The room is nicer than anything they had as a child, with two twin beds pressed against each other, and has a floor-to-ceiling window that reveals the glimmering lights of Vegas below. An ornate vanity fit for a celebrity, which Evie supposes the Dragon Girls kind of are, rests against the left side of the room. On the right stands a massive expanse of bed, embellished with a thin canopy and cushioned pillows.
A girl with waist-long hair and bony wrists watches Evie from her canapé. "My name is Rosie. How can I help you tonight?" Her sultry voice, combined with her moon eyes and plump cheeks, makes Evie want to vomit. Evie can't imagine how many times this girl's done this before.
"I just want to talk," Evie says, sitting across from the girl.
The girl giggles coquettishly, crossing her ankles together. "What kind of talking do you have in mind? I'm sure there are ways we can have some fun..." Her voice trails off as she eyes Evie with her dark eyes.
Evie shifts uncomfortably in the armchair. They had asked Ryan to do the mission but he was obviously way too high-profile to be doing something like this. But Evie much preferred being on the other end of the earpiece. "I want to know where Park Yuno is. I need to speak to her."
The girl laughs again, but this time there's a hard edge in her eyes. Evie had caught her off guard. "We Dragon Girls are important assets to the Azure Dragons, sure, but we are just that. Assets. They don't give us access to information. That's not what we're here for." She says the last bit with extra emphasis, as though still trying to seduce Evie.
"Maybe not other Dragon Girls," Evie says, tinkering with their ratty hoodie. "But I know you're important to her, Li Seo-yoon."
Seo-yoon's slower to hide her startled expression this time, clearly panicked that Evie knows her real name. Still, she shutters her face back into a neutral smile. "I don't know what you're talking about." Seo-yoon stands languidly and stretches, exposing her small waist. "Why don't we just get back to what you came here for? Maybe it'll help if I change into something a little more comfortable?"
Evie watches in confusion as Seo-yoon makes her way to a lavish closet, where only lingerie pieces hang. But a fraction of a moment before it's too late, Evie catches sight of a button behind the swinging fabrics. Seo-yoon pretends to be perusing the various lacy sets, but her rummaging hands get closer and closer to the button.
Now this is Evie's area of expertise. They stand abruptly and pull out a pair of magnetized cuffs, which click quickly around Seo-yoon's slim wrists. Evie slides the closet shut as Seo-yoon yelps. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Seo-yoon struggles against the cuffs and backs away from Evie, staring at them with fury. "What is wrong with you?" Evie is surprised at the 14-year-old's gusto - they were never anything like that at her age - but feels a twinge of guilt regardless.
"I'm with WRAITH, the Weaponized Response Against International Threats Headquarters unit of the National Guard," Evie says, flashing the crest on their Sheltersuit under the hoodie. "We know Yuno has been collaborating with the terrorist organization, Left Behind. We just want to speak with her."
Seo-yoon frowns, clearly trying to figure out a way out of the cuffs. "I told you, I'm just a Dragon Girl. We have nothing to do with the higher-ups."
Evie flicks the hair out of their face in frustration. They usually keep in a very short bob but all the raids they've been conducting lately has made it difficult for a haircut. "So why aren't you out there performing yourself to death like all the other Dragon Girls? You're only fourteen. Shouldn't you be a trainee like all the other girls your age?"
Seo-yoon shrugs. "I prefer doing this." She gestures to the beautiful view outside her window. "Trainees don't even get the time to enjoy what they have. If they're not practicing some new routine, they're performing double shifts at the club. They're out giving autographs. They're entertaining some important businessmen. It's not for me."
Evie laughs, almost mirthlessly. "And they always end up here when the Azure Dragons inevitably replace them at eighteen or nineteen." They sit back down on the armchair, still keeping Seo-yoon in their gaze just in case she tries to pull anything. "No, I know Park Yuno took you out of the program because you're her niece and she knows just how badly her gang treats you Dragon Girls. But she couldn't completely get you out without implicating her own position as the leader of this whole filthy organization."
Seo-yoon shrugs, still putting on a tough face. "So you figured out I have an aunt. Big whoop. You government people sure are putting our tax dollars into good use." The words are almost comical coming out of the 14-year-old's mouth.
Evie rolls their eyes. They never did get along with other children, and it doesn't seem to have improved now that they're older. "Listen. You know that we work with the Azure Dragons sometimes. But we can't overlook everything. That raid we just pulled on your biggest opium supplier, over on that farm in Utah? You tell your aunt that will continue to happen as long as she keeps information about Left Behind from us."
Seo-yoon spits at Evie, which doesn't faze them. They've been spat at many times during interrogations like this. "I won't be telling anyone anything."
Evie shrugs and stands back up, packing up their bag and shoving a chip into their hoodie pocket. "That's alright. I've already gotten everything I needed from your fancy computer over there." Seo-yoon opens her mouth to protest, but Evie puts a hand up. "Look, you can tell Yuno whatever you want. The cuffs will unlock in five minutes. After that, I don't care what you do."
Seo-yoon spits again. "I hate you. I hate you all."
Evie waves once in farewell before slipping out the door. "I've heard that one before. It's truly a thankless job."
They close the door as Seo-yoon screams again. The high-pitched shouts are abruptly cut off as the steel door clicks shut.
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Shortly after the interrogation, Colonel McNamara handed Evie a box with random belongings from the house that they grew up in, which was apparently now an active crime scene. "I'm sorry for your loss," he says gruffly, like it's something his superior had commanded him to do.
This, for whatever reason, sent Evie into a fresh wave of tears. Colonel McNamara's face was impassive, if not slightly exasperated, as they sobbed into their already sullied sleeve. "Okay, I'm ready to go."
Colonel McNamara had said that as an orphaned 16-year-old, Evie was to be taken to government foster care immediately, lest any terrorists try to contact them and "put them in danger". From what Evie's gathered, Ragnar and maybe a few others have escaped. But no matter how Evie tried to suss him out, Colonel McNamara's been tight-lipped about Shailene's whereabouts.
The foster care facilities were even worse than Evie could have imagined, with its gray slabs of walls and the constant clanging noises of the factory that was above it. Evie didn't stop crying throughout the process, whether they were handing them their uniform or assigning their room.
That night, Evie pressed their face to the small window above their tin bed. If they stretched enough, they could see an expanse of field. Shailene, wherever she was, would figure a way to get them out. Evie knew it in their heart.
So that's when Evie started counting the days. Day 1, no Shailene. Evie went to sleep, with crusted eyes and hoped that Day 2 would be better.
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Ryan's waiting for Evie outside in a black SUV when they return to the heat-laden streets of Vegas. "That went pretty well," he says, taking their earpiece from them and sliding it into his briefcase.
"I mean, yeah, I was only spit at twice." Evie relaxes, now that they're done with the op. Usually, ops fill them with an adrenaline that they can only get from work, but Evie can't say that interrogating 14-year-olds is their favorite part of the job.
"You just gotta work on the charm a bit more," Ryan says, as the driver takes them back onto the highway and heads towards the local base in Nevada.
Evie laughs and sarcastically salutes. "Sure thing, Colonel McNamara."