Snippet #2438794

Mandie...
I heard my name so clearly, but it didn't come from the Indian woman's mouth.
If you can hear me, don't let that bitch get to you. She'll lie, tell you to be free to go; it's totally shit. She'll try to piss you off and she might show you something but don't let her know she's gotten to you. That's what she wants. I already made that mistake.
I glanced down at the table in front of me, pretending that it was more interesting than Aya's voice ricocheting through my brain. I kept my face completely expressionless and looked back up at my interrogator, who still had that stupid, smug smile on her face. Surprisingly my fever had started to cool down and the pain in my head and back was starting to dissipate.
If that is you, Aya, and I'm not going completely mental right now, what the hell is going on?! How are we even doing this right now? I feel like Jean Grey, only with less split personality...Where are you?
"Hello, Amanda," the woman finally said. She had her hands politely folded in her lap. How professional. I was half expecting her to lift up a knife and chuck it into my jugular. "I am Aziza Banjaree."
Aziza...Banjaree? What a strange name. Now I was expecting her to whip out a banjo and start serenading me with bluegrass tunes. The image in my mind almost made me bust out in laughter, but I restrained myself.
"You are in custody of the Organization. Here we will run tests and once we get what we want, you will be free to go."
I see what you mean about the bullshit. Damn, even a two year old could see past that lie.
"The Organization?" I snorted in amusement. "You guys couldn't even come up with something creative? That's like naming your cat, 'Cat'."