. . .
Blurry. Everything looked blurry. He tried blinking it away. That usually worked in the mornings. It wasn't working now though. His head drooped. He had a headache. His butt was going numb. Did I sleep sitting up? No, I always sleep on my stomach. Why can't I move my hands? With his gradually clearing eyes Logan looked down. Both of his wrists were handcuffed to the arms of the chair hidden under the table before him. He also noticed the bandages almost completely covering each hand and forearm. He tried to clench them and was rewarded with a fiery pain that only made his headache worse. More than anything he wanted to lay in the fetal position and rub his temples right now.
As if on cue to Logan's sight completely clearing, the door on the other side of the room opened. In walked a man dressed in a much more esteemed uniform than the ones Logan usually saw the police wearing. He had orange skin and underneath his hat orange hair and weird ears could be seen. In one hand he carried a file folder, and in the other he carried Logan's bag. He put each on the table then sat in the chair across from Logan. He stared quizzically while Logan looked back with a drooping head and half-open eyes.
"Are you competent?" the man started. "Can you understand what I'm saying? I need to know if you've sustained any brain damage before I proceed. Am I making sense? You need to talk to me."
"Aspirin," Logan managed to get out through gritting teeth.
"For God's sake I'll talk! Just get me some Aspirin first, please!"
"Good." The man nodded to the one-way mirror and began taking another look at the files. A minute later a large woman holding two pills and a small cup of water opened the door and walked to Logan's side. She put the pills on his tongue then poured the water into his mouth. He made a very audible gulp as he downed the drug.
"I feel better already." The woman walked out leaving them alone.
"Do you know where you are?" the man asked.
"I've never been here before," Logan started, "but I'm willing to guess this is an interrogation room of the west NGPD building."
"So you also know why you're here?"
Logan felt like being a smartass. "It's because I didn't get away."
"Quite right," responded the man without a shred of anger. "As you've probably gathered, I'm not your typical member of the NGPD. My name is T. Prower, the first name is unimportant. I am Director of Unit Ops. and in this entire organization I am second in command only to NGPD Commissioner Crawford. Perhaps you should be grateful to have my personal audience." Prower was deliberately trying to evoke a reaction to better study Logan in person.
"Oh it's an honor." Logan rolled his eyes.
"You know it's funny. Over the years I've worked with many of Newgrounds's most serious cases. Conspiracies, violent mobs, you name it. But the smalltime stunt you pulled last night, I'm finding this more interesting than any of that. You put on quite the show both on and off the screens"
"Maybe it's because you saw me in action that- 'last night?!'"
"It's 6am right now kid."
"Oh fuck! My parents are gonna kill me," Logan groaned.
"Son, you've got a hell of a lot bigger problems." Prower was speaking with authority. "Now if you are ready to be serious- adult serious- I'd like to sort out some confusions IâEUTMm having."
"Good." Prower looked at the files again. "Your profile reads pretty average for someone your age. Eldest of two children in a typical working class family of the West Residential District. Grandson of deceased Elite Guard member Jonathan Valor. No past criminal record. Ongoing high school education"- Logan cleared his throat. "Something you want to say about school?"
"I'm done with it."
"You didn't graduate yet, you have to finish the year."
"I don't have to do anything."
"Well, school aside, I'm not seeing anything spotty, and that makes me wonder why you have these." Prower emptied Logan's bag onto the table. Some of the contents clanked loudly on the hard surface while others scattered. "A crowbar and flashlight; basic tools for robbery. A nearly perfect overhead layout of the entire West Import Yard. Detailed notes on personnel activity over a lengthy amount of time. And ten illegal fake NGPD identification cards. I've gotta say, this is not looking good for you." Prower paused a moment. "Now I'm not paid to jump to conclusions, so I might just calmly ask: are you involved with any criminal organization? Are any friends or family in trouble? How could you have known the existence and location of these cards? What could have possessed you to risk the harsh penalties for breaking into the facility?"
For a moment Logan was silent. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Over the next twenty minutes Logan revealed everything to Prower as fully and truthfully as he could.
"Let me see if I got this straight. Not being in school anymore leaves you with all this free time and your hobby has become doing bad things. Lately you've grown tired of petty crime and besting the more relaxed security of other places so you challenged yourself against us and in a single day, you drew up this nearly flawless set of maps and plans to help you succeed. When looking for a 'trophy' to commemorate your planned success, you came across these IDs hidden under liquor bottles purely by chance and decided to take them because you figured they wouldn't be missed. And all this solely happened because you wanted a thrill?"
"It's all correct, sir."
Prower leaned back in his chair, adopting a very thoughtful look. He stayed silent for a full minute. But that minute passed agonizingly slow for Logan. "Alright," Prower finally broke the silence. "I've come to a decision. Being who I am I can pretty much single-handedly decide your fate. Trespassing on property of an organization like the NGPD usually results in jail time. But believe it or not, you've actually done the NGPD a service with your stunt. We now know precisely how we should increase our security. And these cards. Our current inspection process is not rigorous enough to have found these. Though the names are probably fake, you've basically provided us with the faces of ten unknown criminals. And let's not forget the skills you displayed in recon, stealth, physical ability, and situation assessment. All things considered, I've decided sending you to prison would be a waste. Instead I'm going to send you back to school."
"I'm ecstatic with your decision," Logan said glumly, "but I've missed way too much high school at this point to graduate."
"Oh no, I've got bigger plans for you." Prower grew a wicked grin. "You are hereby required to start attending the Newgrounds Police Academy. Congratulations, your sorry ass belongs to me!"
END CHAPTER 3
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