Snippet #2815485

"The handbag," said Andrijana, and Jonassaint handed it over, wordless. Andrijana took it, setting it on the edge of her desk along with the letter from Kendra. She'd find a way to send the handbag back to the embassy, or to wherever Aeka was staying while visiting Terra this time. The letter would eventually go into the box of Drulović's property, which would be waiting in her cell in G Unit while she was taken down to the disciplinary unit. Of course, Andrijana would have to see to it herself. "Well, Ms. Drulović. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I doubt there's anything I might say that you might heed," said Drulović, contemptuous, head tilted slightly back in defiance, eyes narrowed to slits, though the expression was a bit lost in the swollen bruising. "I have nothing more to say to you. My work does not concern you."

Something in the old woman's tone suggested to Andrijana that her words might not be entirely feigned or affected. She repressed the urge to shiver. "Fine, then. You'll wait in disciplinary while Officer Salgado writes up the charges. And I'll be informing the prosecutor's office about this. I didn't realize you were so eager to extend your quite lenient sentence." She waved at the officers. "Take them out."

Freed from the earlier directive, Salgado grabbed roughly at Drulović's arm. "On your feet." She staggered slightly, but did not resist, only grabbed at the table to right herself. Salgado reapplied the restraints they'd escorted Drulović up in, locking the handcuffs to the waist chain and the one leading to the leg irons, and then he and one of his colleagues each took one of her arms, moving her out. Jonassaint and the other officer pulled Hokushin to his feet, heading out after the old woman. As if instinctually aware of Hokushin's highly specialized military training, the two were on high alert, tense, and watching him closely.

Andrijana shut the office door behind them.

The disciplinary unit was housed in a building all on its own, within its own separate fencing from the rest of the complex. Meant to hold no more than fifty people at most and rarely holding more than ten at any given time, the original architects of the place had separated each cell from the corridor with a double door - a barred one, and a solid metal one. Of course, the walls themselves were not entirely soundproofed, despite best efforts, and those confined there could, if the metal doors were left ajar, occasionally catch glimpses of one another. The lights burned at all hours.

Jonassaint moved Hokushin into the cell at the furthest end of the corridor, the better to keep him away from those sent to Ĭtpraṽmår sometimes for decades at a time. No one really knew what to do with someone who had been convicted of no crime but had been apparently caught in the act of highly illegal activity. Jonassaint supposed this was the NPA's problem now. But at least temporarily, this was their problem. He scowled.

The old woman was taken to a cell a few doors down, where Salgado told her to stand against the wall for another search. She leaned there until he had finished, and removed the restraints - and when he'd shut the doors, staggered to the bed. Her knees screamed in agony. They'd now missed lunch, and dinner wouldn't come for another several hours. Since the old woman had barely been able to manage anything at breakfast, she suspected she'd manage nothing from dinner, especially not if they brought up the dried out mystery meat from the previous day's dinner. Her jaw too ached dully, and her face stung from the recent beating. She stared at the narrow window, but saw past the smudge and grime only the plain stone walls of the next building over.