sHe: THE RISE OF THE NEW BREEDS [Book 1]

Chapter 11

ROBERTA SAT in the bright side of a small lockup cell. She looked at her crestfallen wife Lilya in the dark corner in a tattered blouse that she wore. Her face and arms were bruised from the torture. A rag was bandaged onto her foot from the burns by the blowtorch.

After sixteen hours of trying to get the albino woman to confess; Roberta has no choice but to turn her in to the police ever since the snitch Kiki had made known to the CIA about the existence of 'Reeves Jensen' of being her kin, and of Lilya who was now too associated with the terrorist Aryans Sisterhood group.

Roberta wanted to get out of this mess clean for the sake of her career—that left her own wife to take the fall...

Roberta had repeated the same question for the hundredth time...

"Now tell me, where have the rebels taken Laura to? Where is this farm?"

"No," a soft snivelling voice came from the dark corner...

"Never!"

She wanted to protect the innocent people whom she cared for back in Mississippi from the brutal cop whom she was married to.

Roberta stood up from the wooden stool...

"You are gonna talk before the next level of pain that you are gonna endure is going to be more intense, bitch! I am warning you, you are going to die now if you don't tell me!"

Lilya began to sob even louder and she crawled to the far end of the wall. Roberta picked up the stool by its leg and stepped forward to bash her. Lilya curled into a ball—having one trembling hand covering her head and the other on her belly, to protect her unborn babies...

The menacing footsteps were nearing close to her sight towards her dark demise—Roberta's huge shadowy silhouette figure in the black leather jacket covered the glare of the ceiling lamp at the rear...

The cell door opened in the nick of time with two policewomen barged inside, pointing their guns that trained at Roberta. One of them was of her own; Sergeant Jakubowski who was in the Elite SWAT uniformed cried out...

"Drop it, Capt. Jensen!"

Roberta turned to glance at more cops coming in—and found Det. Capt. Bernie Palmer was approaching from behind them with her gun also drawn out. Roberta's hand was on her own weapon holster, and she cried out...

"Bernie, what is the meaning of this?"

"Stand down, Rob! Do what we say and don't make it any uglier than this—and get your hands off your pistol!"

Bernie had returned from LA hours earlier after assisting with the CIA's terrorist investigation. She discovered once back in Washington DC, Roberta has already arrested her own wife after hours of physically torturing her. Capt. Bernie Palmer immediately lodged a report with her superiors to inform about the situation—the mandated word came back that Roberta should be apprehended.

"She is my prisoner and I have the right to interrogate her in any way I want!" Roberta's hand was still on the gun holster. Det. Bernie Palmer thumbed the safety off her pistol and she responded...

"Then your wife will be the only one who will walk out of this cell alive as a widow—you decide that now, Rob!"

Roberta dropped the stool on the floor, still enraged and saw Bernie instructing the other policewoman...

"Davis, get an ambulance for Mrs Jensen—and Sergeant Jakubowski, you escort Capt. Jensen out from here, and take her gun away!"

Jakubowski touched Roberta's arm but was pushed away in spite while they both walked out of the lockup cell. Roberta glanced in disgust at half a dozen e-SWAT uniforms staring at her outside the door at their Commanding Officer—with their guns held out in their hands.