“Looks like you’re having a good day, Red,” one of the Prisoner Securers congratulated her as three others bound Hunnigan tighter, being careful of her coils.
That made her grin, both the comment and their wariness of her personalized captive cuffs. The last time someone hadn’t been careful with them, the coils had taken out a guard. He still didn’t have full use of his right leg.
“Where is Atlas Palnoki?” boomed across the captive dock, making Amadhay wince.
“Maybe I spoke too soon,” the same boy muttered, giving her a pitying look.
Amadhay sighed, brushing her faux bangs from her face as she turned to face her uncle, who looked to be on the warpath. The stocky man practically exuded menace as he stormed to her. Amadhay didn’t have to look around to know that all other operatives were quickly moving out of his way, the four taking care of Hunnigan pausing behind her. She wondered for a moment if they were staying there to watch her be reamed, to show Arne Riff how good she was doing, or because it was safer not to move and chance catching his attention.
She would put credits on the latter.
“Where is Atlas?” the man demanded again now that he was close enough that Amadhay had to look up to see his face. His blue eyes were narrowed in obvious anger and his arms were at his sides, hands curled into fists.
“My room,” she stated calmly, running her hands through her hair in an effort to tame it back to her normal precision. She couldn’t understand how Amaya could stand it like this. “He escaped the interrogation stations and came looking for me, so I bound him to my room.”
She, of course, didn’t mention the fact that he hadn’t seemed like he was going anywhere even if she hadn’t bubbled him. Or the fact that he was obviously playing some game with her. That was unnecessary speculation at this point in time.
“And when were you going to tell someone?” Arne Riff demanded, violence still emanating off of him like an aura. Even though her answer was definitely better than ‘I dunno, did he escape?’ it obviously wasn’t what he wanted to hear. For some reason he seemed to want her to have done something wrong. If that hadn’t been his normal interaction with her since Madra, she would have been suspicious of this entire mission.
He had sent her after Atlas, which when she had first heard about it, she had been completely positive that he intended it to be a suicide mission. She was just having trouble understanding why he would actually want her dead. She was the best operative. Minus the one incident, she always got her job done, she didn’t flinch at dirty jobs, and most of all, everyone thought she was dead. She was a ghost operative, and those were always the best. Look at Benjy.
“When I finished getting Palnoki’s Wrangler and the Borg Queen, which I did, sir. So, Atlas Palnoki is in my room, my lord. Shall I fetch him for you?” she kept her tone dry to ward off any claims of sarcasm, even though she knew that he knew that she was being incredibly sarcastic.
He didn’t call her out on it. “Yes. I want him back in an interrogation room.”
She gave him a slight nod accompanied by a shallow curtsy before she turned on her heel. She smirked, seeing the awed looks the Prisoner Securers were giving her. The one who had spoken to her before gave her a grin and salute in return and she made a note to get to know him when she had time.
“Red Robin,” Arne Riff called once Amadhay was almost out of the dock.
She turned her head back to look at him. “Yes, my lord?”
Amadhay almost stopped breathing. He had just praised her, which was more than he’d done in a long while. Her uncle normally just nodded or grunted her way in a show of recognition to her actions. For him to compliment her, that was flooring. It actually made her rethink his actions. Maybe he hadn’t meant to kill her. Maybe he had just actually believed she could do what other agents had tried and failed to do.
She smiled at the man. “Thank you my lord,” she said. He nodded and, after another click of staring at her uncle, she continued on her way.