Wipe the Smile

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Frank felt weird. She'd felt weird for a while now, but she felt really weird right now. Super weird. It probably had something to do with what was gonna happen to her soon. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she hadn't had enough food for days now. Maybe if someone had suggested it to her she would have considered eating parts of the cell or something. Anything that could be digested for fuel.

Then again, maybe that was why they had taken their time getting to Frank. Maybe they realized that this mutant kept weakening with each passing hour, moving through the starvation process in quite a hurry. Or maybe it was just that they realized that the silly, giggling girl who kept singing wasn't the mastermind, maybe they thought she was legitimately crazy, since for some reason, she hadn't seemed to get the hint.

Frank was getting it now. She'd been strapped to a chair, an uncomfortable chair, an uncomfortable chair of uncomfortableness. Straps pinned her to it, not that Frank could really walk all that great right now. They'd had to all but drag her here, and they'd stopped to hit her a time or two before realizing that they probably couldn't damage her too much before the whole interrogation business. Frank had eventually lapsed into silence when they'd put her in the room. she hadn't fought, hadn't squirmed, hadn't sung, hadn't spoken when they strapped her into the chair. She sat.

It lasted a few minutes until she hummed to herself, drumming against the arm. She could feel her stomach gurgling, and she wondered if maybe she could ask whomever showed up if they'd feed her something. She had seriously been considering leaning down and nibbling at her straps when the door opened and someone finally showed. Frank turned to him, smiling broadly. "Hey! Are you the one doing the whole interrogation thing? I'm Frank Cox," she nodded, hoping that her last name had some kind of weight. Then she shuffled her feet. Should she resist him? Should she talk? Well, it kind of depended on what he wanted to know, right? "So did you wanna ask me some questions---oh, you probably wanna lay down the rules. I'll be quiet, I swear," and she lapsed into silence, staring up at the man, waiting to see what happened next.

[Winston C. DuFrense]

"The surgery was a success, sir. Nothing major hit. He'll live, so long as he doesn't push himself too hard and open his wounds."

"Good, keep it up. I don't think they'll be trying anything like that again, but keep tabs on them 24/7 just in-case. Winston out."

"Sir."

The handset died down and found itself back in the snug confines of Winston's jacket. He'd have to schedule another round of talks with those two, once they'd sufficient chance to think about their situation and their actions. He still couldn't say whether either had information of use, but until they were in a more co-operative mood there was no way to be certain. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Should he call in a 'special' operative? It would make things smoother, but that particular branch probably wasn't entirely authorised for field work quite yet. He could look into it. Until then, standard operating procedure would have to apply.

He checked to make sure he had everything he would need, and then opened the door and went in.

Different. That was his first impression. He hadn't even opened his mouth and he'd been assailed with such bubbliness he might have been in a bath house. Snarls, curses or silence were the norm, though he had to admit it made for a nice change. What did bother him was the sloppiness of his colleagues work. The handset came out again, a frequency was set and the button pressed. "May I remind whoever set up the room for Cox that the girl can eat her way through pretty much anything? Why in the hell does she have free movement of her head?"

Some mumbled apologies came through the receiver. "Try to use your head next time, before she bites it off." He sighed, and put the device away. "Now where was I...?" he mumbled, searching through his pockets until he found the other gadget. Just like in interrogations past, he had a recorder, and set it going. "Alright, time is... Ah, screw it, we'll just use the backup." The recorder went back into the pocket and he nodded at the one-way mirror set into the wall.

With a great breath of air, Winston's body went limp and he fell into a chair then wiped at his eyes. "You'll have to excuse me. It's been a long day," he told the bound girl. "Right. Rules. Don't be an asshole and answer any questions I give you. Very simple." He wheeled a little closer on the chair, but was sure to stay out of range of those jaws. "My name's Winston. I'll be your host for the day."

The technicians behind the mirror were probably getting bored or annoyed. "First question then. Tell me about your friend Erika -do you think she's the kind of person to keep secrets?"

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Frank tilted her head as the agent took the seat. He looked really freakin' badass, like, the type of tough guy who would fend off a plane full of snakes or put together a totally awesome team of superhero types. As far as the other stuff: "I know! The  days here are super long and stuff. You should try being starved and thrown into these dark cells with people who have, like, no sense of humor or anything. it's been a draaaaaag," she said, rolling her eyes. She coughed afterward, then licked her lips. Talking, even in that short burst, had nearly made her dizzy. she still heard the rules and the introduction. "Cool! I'm not, like, rude or anything, and it's nice to meet you Winston."

And again, she lapsed into quasi-serious silence while Winston began. the question had Frank clicked her tongue against her teeth for a bit. "Probably, I mean, she's totally dating like, two guys at the same time or something, so I'm betting that she's probably gotta keep one from the other and stuff. Plus, her two closest people are, like, her mind reading sister and Ellen, who's super cool and stuff but can do this hypnotism thingy that's really weird, so I'm betting that she's totally used to keeping stuff from them. Oh, and there's the whole Bellefonte thing, so if there's, like, super secret family stuff then she'd probably totally hide it though.

"Trevor's the same way and stuff too. He's super shady," Frank shifted slightly, clearly trying to get comfortable. She tapped her tongue against her teeth again, taking a breath before adding: "That's why I wanted him to help with the whole smuggling Solkat out of the school and stuff--" of course, Frank would likely keep talking until Winston wisely told her to stop, or at least redirected the conversation in a direction that would be... useful for his conversation.

[Winston C. DuFrense]

It seemed, Winston felt, that this session was going to be far less stressful and possibly even more productive than most of the others. This girl, Cox, was either an idiot, or a genius capable of playing an idiot. Everything they had on her suggested the former, which was fine for him. She talked a lot, certainly and didn't exactly have much in the way of focus, but at the end of the day, talking was exactly what they wanted. Anything and everything she said was being recorded and would later end up being played back over and over under intense scrutiny in search of the slightest hint. And, while they didn't bother him immensely, it was nice not to be glared, spat and shouted at for the entire duration.

"Thank you, Frank," he interrupted, a small smile on his face. She was eccentric and on her own planet, but pleasant. If every mutant was like her, SPECTRE would likely have been little more than a pipe dream. "So they all have their dark sides, I take it?" There would have to be more sessions after that revelation. It was no surprise that Erika knew more about Bellefonte as a whole than she was letting on, but Paige was also of increasing interest. Shady? Smuggling? That would have to be looked into. Then there was his parents -it was difficult to tell what side they were supporting, or even if they realised there were sides.

"Let's face it though, who doesn't? Look at me, the big bad man kidnapping the naughty children." He leaned back in his chair as he grabbed the report on the table. Seems the Cox's were big contributors to the academy, too. "Speaking of bad people," he began, idly leafing through the pages. "You said you know Ellen? Ellen Banks? Can you tell me about her? I hear she's quite nasty. Do you think she'd ever try to hurt someone for her own gain?"

Banks was, of course, just one small bump on a huge rash, but she was a good example of mutants that could really do a lot of harm. Throwing fire and turning into steel was dangerous, but influencing minds was what worried his colleagues far more.

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Frank attempted something of a shrug, again rather difficult to do considering that the bindings still held her in place. "Well, yeah, everyone's got some sorta dark side. Erika just mostly likes to have fun, but I know Trevor does some shady stuff. I don't think it's really anything that you SPECTRE types should really be worried about, unless you're secretly working for the energy drink people or something," Frank giggled at the thought, tapping her feet against the chair for a bit to work up another thought. "not Solkat though. She's really kinda innocent in all this. I just dragged her along because she's my cousin and stuff, so I gotta look out for her. She's the cute little skunk girl," Frank offered this last as clarification, and she didn't blink or flinch as she announced her planned lie. That same, pleasantly cheerful expression remained on Frank's slightly drawn face.

The next bit had her giving out a little aww, but before she could continue, Winston switched the subject over to Ellen. "Yeah, I'm Ellen's best friend! We make friendship bracelets together. Everyone always says that she's one of the nastier people at the Academy and stuff, but I think she just sort of needs more real friends and stuff. She's got, like, Erika, and I think they're frenemies, like you get on those teenage movies and junk. But um, yeah, Ellen probably would hurt someone to get what she wanted. Nothing major though. She's more likely to put the wrong color shampoo in your shower or something than do anything dangerous.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just, like, show up at the school and ask people about this kinda stuff instead of kidnapping kids? Probly be easier to tell your wife and kids about around the table or something. But that's just me: I'm not a strategical mastermind or anything," Frank again attempted a shrug, and when it failed this time, she let out a little giggle. "I keep doing that; you'd think I'd figure it out eventually. I guess I could, like, nom on it a bit, but that'd probly get you all edgy and I don't wanna get shot or shocked or anything like that," after saying this, Frank started examining Winston, obviously looking for whatever he was packing that would, well, shoot or shock.

[Winston C. DuFrense]

The clock on the wall ticked away silently. "In my humble opinion," he said, rubbing the back of his head slowly, "there is a lot about Bellefonte we needn't worry about. Not to say there aren't things we need to worry about, but I'll admit not all of our resources are best spent. Wasting tax payer money to investigate children being children, for example." He started to tap a pen against the surface of the table. If anything was happening at Bellefonte, it was being done subtly. For the most part, it seemed they were wasting time on teen drama. Contrary to what the deputy director might insist, there was only so much they would be able to get from these kids. Erika was the big one, but he had a gut feeling she wasn't much of a murderer or terrorist. Her hatred was personal, not ideological, but the possibility could not be excluded. And then there was Cox -her family was a contributor and thus, the same logic had to be applied. Really though, it was people like Banks, people with both the will and ability to do real harm they should be targeting for such talks.

He would get stick for it, but it felt like the best approach to the situation. As bubbly as the girl was, he needed to get serious and he needed answers. Preferably before the director cut her tongue out. "I'll get to the point, Frank; I'd like to make a deal. You tell me everything I want to know, and I'll try and organise your cousin's early release. Like you, I severely doubt she'd be of any use to us. But we still need answers." The pen continued to tap. "There are people like Banks who are not afraid to use their abilities to do harm. There are psychopaths -I've a long, long list of them, including one from Bellefonte, one Kayne DeRemiro. People like him who would happily slaughter a lot of innocent people. It is my job to ensure that doesn't happen." The tapping stopped, to be replaced by squeaking wheels as he rolled closer. "But to do my job, I need information. I need to know that Bellefonte is willing to cooperate and is there to help people."

The chair stopped within half a metre of Frank. His head rested on his crossed hands. "I assume you like films, maybe even comic books? If you do, you've probably seen the kind of thing I'm supposed to find out. Mutant supremacists, all that jazz. I need to know that nothing, and I mean nothing like that is happening at the academy. No real shady business. No ticking time bombs. Contrary to what this whole scenario might suggest," he said, gesturing to the chair and room around them, "I'm actually in the business of helping the majority."

His eyes met her, and gazed sternly. "Can I trust you to help me do my job? Can I trust you to help your cousin when you've the power to do so?"

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Frank didn't like the ticking clock. She fidgeted, she squirmed, and she probably would've started talking despite the whole very tense super serious situation she found herself in. However, Winston spoke, and there was just something about him that made Frank want to shut up and listen. If she didn't know any better, she'd have said it was some kind of mutant power or something. Even Frank wasn't stupid enough to believe that SPECTRE would hire a mutant to do this sort of thing. So this must just be Winston being that badass.

Wasting money on Bellefonte: Frank nodded vigorously at that, smiling. "Yeah, that's totally what's going on! Okay, so there are some people that, like, have some dangerous powers and junk ,but most of them aren't really doing anything with them, and the school's making sure that we don't--" but she paused, realizing that Winston hadn't really finished. he got serious, leaned forward, tell him everything he wanted to know, and he'd release Solkat. Frank opened her mouth to talk again, but he continued, and she found her mouth closing. Need answers, and then listing off people that would abuse their powers. Frank actually felt a chill slide down her spine. What could she do then? She knew it: knew that there were people that weren't as good as she wanted them to be. She'd actually been terrified that Ellen would be one of them: that had been the whole point of her trying to befriend the Banks heiress. the name he listed though, that name Frank knew, not personally, but in the same way that she knew most of the names on the campus.

Need information: Frank's mouth opened again, and then he stopped, stopped close to Frank. She looked at him, blinking, and suddenly she was very, very aware that she was strapped in a chair with a very, very dangerous man who would hurt her if he had to. He wouldn't like it; he'd say as much, but he'd break every bone in Frank's body if it got him what he wanted. Frank did like movies; she did like comics; she'd seen the superhero films.

You don't play with the tough black guys they sent to interrogate, not if you liked your body in one piece.

No shady business, no ticking time bombs, help, say names, because who knew more about the people than bubbly Frank Cox, consummate party girl who went out of her way to know everybody to help everybody.

"Y-yeah, I can help. But why are you just mentioning Solkat? What about---" Frank's eyes moved to the door for a moment, and she licked her lips. She squirmed again. "Um, well, there's... there's probably some bad people. I mean, most of them aren't really bad. It's like with Ellen: they just need some love and friendship and stuff and we're trying to do it, really we are! There are even people there that like the whole SPECTRE thing! There's one guy; uh, people like him, senior, Beau, Beau La--something. He was all like 'we should help the government and stuff.' But there were some that said that you were gonna kill us all and that it was only a matter of time. Like uh, well, Kayne is, um, not, uh, that nice," admitted Frank, chewing her lip. "And there's this other girl, Ellis, I think something might be wrong with her. And, uh," Frank tried hard. Frank didn't remember the bad stuff; it just didn't stick in her brain. She only remembered Ellis because the girl had freaked out and kicked Frank from her room. Kayne she'd only heard about. "I could, uh, tell you more, maybe?" Frank took a deep breath, remembering how this worked. like the comics, like the films. She leaned forward. "I think this is the part where you negotiate and stuff, since I'm squealing like a piggie."

[Winston C. DuFrense]

So there was a mixed crowd. Of course there was -ask a bunch of students to all believe one thing, and they'd disagree on how much of an idiot you were. Interesting to hear that the initiative even had some support, though how long that would last is debatable. He grabbed the pen firmly and began making notes in the margin of the report, taking down names he could look up later. Whether or not he would bring it up with the director was another thing. It was debatable how much another round of kidnapping would serve them, especially considering the source of the information at hand. Not that he felt she was untrustworthy or anything, but at the end of the day, they were kids. Kids, not foreign spies. The sooner the director bored that into his head, the better.

"That's helpful, thank you." He bounced the pen on his lips. "If I had my way, I'd probably just release you all now. I'm not the big, big bad here, though. Things are still... being worked out, with Erika and Trevor. Paige might not even be in any condition to move about." He scribbled a few more notes down, threw the paper onto the table, then wheeled over to her chair as she leaned forward. With only a little caution, he began to loosen the straps. "You're right. So I'm going to offer you some space to move around, and you can keep talking, if you have anything else to say. This isn't me setting you free, but if you're nice and cooperative, you get rewards." A hand went up to pull back his jacket. The glistening butt of his gun shone out. "And no funny ideas, please. I don't think anyone is particularly interested in seeing a hole put in you."

He wheeled back, took out the walkie talkie and balanced it by the antenna on the table. "If you're really good, I might even be able to fill the hole in your stomach. We've got quite the storeroom and cafeteria. Us secret agents need to eat just like anyone," he added, more than a little humour and deadpan snark in his voice.

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Helpful, and he'd have released them all? Frank grinned as she heard that: "See, some of you guys aren't so big and scary, and some of us aren't so big and scary," said Frank, nodding. "W-w-wait a second, what do you mean Trevor might not be in any condition to---what did--" Frank stopped then. If it was one thing that had already been proven, it was that Frank had a very vivid imagination, at least vivid enough to paint several pictures as to why her friend couldn't move right now. Very, very few of those involved anything overly pleasant, and the entire combination just had Frank swallowing nervously or, well, attempting to swallow. Her throat felt dry.

Before Frank could begin another stream of words, Winston moved. Frank tilted her head for a moment, wondering what exactly he had in mind. Soon enough though, her bindings had loosened. She chuckled a little, squirming a bit. The squirm got her a good look at the glistening gun. Nobody was interested in putting a hole in her... did that mean... Frank's eyes widened as she jumped to a conclusion, hoping that it wasn't accurate. Surely they wouldn't shoot one of them? They were just teenagers?

It showed just how confused and worried Frank was that she immediately started talking, plowing right over Winston's offer of food: "You really don't need to hurt any of us any more. I mean, I'm more than willing to do all the talking and stuff, and unless you want to know, like, secret drug routes in Kalispell or something, you won't have to work Trevor over or anything either. All Erika probably knows is all the good party spots in town too, so it's really not anything you'd have to torture us over. Sure, you got, like, a Bellefonte and all, but she's totally the party Bellefonte. There's this blog, Dirty Laundry, it tells all the stuff about students and stuff, and it just looooooooves talking about Erika because she's all pretty and popular and sleeps around or something. which is, like, normal for us rich kids and stuff. Oooooh, ohohohohoh! You kidnapped a bunch of rich kids! Man, I don't think the Paiges or my parents are gonna be happy with you, and the Bellefontes, well, have you seen that show with all the boobs and dragons and stuff? Yeah, they can be like that sometimes. So I guess the family is kinda shady and stuff. But if I were you guys, I'd be more worried about the adult types and stuff. Like the security person who can change into a giant cat or the other security person who turns into a giant alligator or something. Hey, do you guys have some kinda super secret technology thing? Like in those movies where they build the super big robots and stuff? That would be cool!" Frank nodded, and would likely continue going on about large robots if, well, Winston didn't intervene... again.

[Winston C. DuFrense]

Heh. He couldn't help but chuckle internally. Some of them certainly weren't that bad... and some were. Some were very, very bad. Cox was lucky, in many ways -the deputy director likely wasn't all that concerned with talking to her. Too scatterbrained for his tastes, and he was probably under the impression she didn't hold any useful, or at least trustworthy, information. A situation Winston was fine with. "No, not everyone here is a bogeyman. But don't let your guard down, I have some very unpleasant colleagues and I mean the kind hell would spit back out. Real grade-A assholes." The walkie talkie stopped spinning and found itself tightly grasped in his hand again. "As for Paige, there was a small accident. He'll be fine, so don't wet yourself."

At least he should be. SPECTRE surgeons and medics were good at their job -everyone was, had to be. It was a professional organisation, and even the director had his skills. Skills, Winston felt, that were being misplaced. Skills nonetheless though. At least Cox was beginning to realise this, too, that they weren't a bunch of clowns in suits. Which was fine; good for the record, probably good for everything but her blood pressure. Her motor mouth would be the worst thing for it; how she actually managed to get enough breath into her lungs was a mystery. It was mostly all information he was either aware of, or which didn't much matter. They could look further into Paige's after dark activities though, even if it was just typical smuggling. The actual Paige family being shady wasn't news. It actually made him laugh a little. "I don't think we need to worry about your families. We here at SPECTRE tend to be above bullshit high-society politics. We have a job to do, and we're quite determined to do it. If this was the show with dragons and breasts, then we'd probably be the dragons."

The pen and notes appeared to gain. More facts to look up, certainly individuals that would have to be put on the watch list, not so much for suspicious activity, but to be wary of in the field. SPECTRE medical personal were good, but being mauled by some man-alligator might be even beyond them. That was likely all he was going to get, however. The rambling girl could have masterfully tricked him and successfully guarded all manner of secrets, but chances were she was a hyper teenager who's greatest concern was who the latest prom queen was going to be. Winston had a headache, and other things to attend to. "Well, it's been an... interesting talk, if nothing else. But if you've got something important to say, say it now, because I need a cup of coffee. Otherwise, I'll send you back on to your cell, maybe even get a treat for you."

Everything went back into its proper place within his jacket as he stood. "I might call on you later, or you might end up going home." He stopped, and turned around. "A word of warning though. If you do get released, tell your friends and teachers at the Academy to stay put. This is not a cookie jar they want to be caught sticking their hands in. And by that I mean they might call down the wrath of the United States government and all of SPECTRE. Everyone here will be released, eventually. They need to be patient, and then you can get back on track with your lives. If they come poking, a lot of people will get hurt."

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Unpleasant colleagues, yeah, Frank got that; she got it more than she really wanted to. Plus there was the whole fact that something told her that getting on Winston's bad side wouldn't be good. Or maybe that was just that constant sensation that prickled in the back of Frank's mind, causing her hairs to stand on end and her body to squirm just a little more in her seat. Winston mentioned Paige, mentioned an "accident" and Frank chose to believe it. All this stuff... all sorts of stuff could happen. Sure, "accident' was probably code for "he stumbled into a gun" or something, but Frank didn't care. Best to just think the best and hope that things turned out that way.

Doubtful that Winston thought that way, especially with how he just brushed aside the mention of their families. The little joke about SPECTRE being the dragons made Frank giggle though. "You guys do seem kinda dragon-like," she admitted, nodding. Oh, she got the threat; she was bubbly, not stupid. She understood that Winston was saying that they could fry and eat people. He took more notes though, and didn't seem to think he could get anything else out of Frank. She supposed he couldn't, really, if he kept talking to Trevor and Erika and stuff, at least, nothing that he actually wanted to say.

Call later, end up going home. Frank nodded, opening her mouth to talk. it shut as he mentioned not sticking their hands into this. Frank giggled, then rolled her eyes. "Nobody wants to mess with you guys. We're all freaking out about the other stuff. Not like we're kidnapping SPECTRE agents or anything. Buuuuut you probably should be worried about them sticking their hands in though. i mean, you got a Bellefonte, and the school's kinda named after them. Plus, Erika's got this twin who's, like super creepy and stuff. I've heard she reads minds or anything, and is, like, one of those straight 'A' types, but you probably know all about that. You guys have files on everybody and you probably got spies and stuff. That's how you were all like 'let's go after the four Bellefonte children' and 'be on the lookout for the Banks girl, she's dangerous," and Frank giggled again, but held her hands up as far as she could, looking expectantly at Winston.

[Winston C. DuFrense]

Greater care was going to have to be taken with any future targets. This wasn't the sort of person they really needed to interrogate. They had reason to suspect Erika -by virtue of being a Bellefonte, she was privy to things. This one, on the other hand, not so much. Innocent until proven guilty was a rule they were bending, but should not be breaking. Otherwise, they'd have to either keep pulling random students off the street or abduct the lot, and that might be an undertaking beyond even SPECTRE's resources. There would have to be talks with his superiors regarding this.

"I sincerely hope you aren't kidnapping SPECTRE agents. Because that would be a federal crime which, unlike the ones we're technically committing, the government might actually give a damn. And by that I mean they'd bring the hammer down on the whole of Bellefonte. That's also why everyone at that academy needs to stay put, because poking around here or trying anything stupid would probably result in the same thing. And you do not want that."

The walkie talkie went up to his lips and crackled to life as she blabbered on some more. Though she certainly was better than the initial talk with Erika had been, her voice did start to grate after a while. Someone to be enjoyed only in small doses. "This is DuFrense. Cox is ready to go back to her cell."

There was a burst of static as the agent on the other side replied. Winston's face twisted with mild confusion and disapproval. "Well then put him to sleep! He was supposed to be transferred yesterday." He sighed, rubbed his eyes, then clipped the radio back to his belt. "Looks like we get to spend another few minutes together," he said to Frank, curtly. "My friends are busy. So, here's the drill; stand up, arms behind your back, no funny business, etc."

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

"I don't know what bringing the hammer down means, but that does sound bad," agreed Frank, nodding. She kept her attention on Winston, unable or unwilling to remove her gaze from the man while he went about his business. Not like there was anything else in the room. She did continue the whole talking thing for a while, but that was one advantage of talking all the time like Frank did: you figured out how to listen while talking too. Frank at least noticed that Winston had pulled up his walkie.

And Frank fell silent while it crackled, trying to listen to the voice on the other end. Frank couldn't quite make out what was said though, even though she was being super quiet and leaning forward and trying to get a decent look at Winston and the walkie and stuff not that looking really helped with the hearing but it kinda helped Frank focus her attention and she needed all the help with that she could get.

"What's up?" she asked, tilting her head. "Is it---" but he was already clipping his radio back on, telling Frank they'd be spending more time. Stand up, arms behind back, etc. Frank shrugged, then slid to her feet, doing so with remarkable docility. "You guys don't have like the Hulk somewhere in here, do you? Is there a Hulk? Because that would be totally awesome! Oh, is that your secret Mutant fighting thing? The Hulk? 'cuz that might actually work," Frank nodded, obviously having half convinced herself that this was, in fact, the case.

[Winston C. DuFrense]

He pulled a pair of cuffs from his belt and set about placing them around her wrists. At this point, it was likely a little redundant -even she probably wasn't dumb enough to try something, but it wasn't something Winston was going to tempt. Little slip ups like that could cost a lot. "I mean," he said, tone grave, "that if SPECTRE gets attacks in any way, then an army is probably going to show up at Bellefonte's door. We're a government organisation. Which means declaring war on us is the same as declaring war on the entirety of the United States. You don't have to be a politics student to know not many folks like doing that -and by folks I mean entire nations. Kids with laser eyes or not, one boarding school wouldn't last."

The cuffs clicked into place and he moved back to open the door. A flick of his head gestured for her to move. The walkie talkie returned to action. "Tell me you've got that situation under control?" There was a pause of static. Very slowly, his eyebrow began to rise as the seconds ticked by.

The static was broken by a voice, speaking in a fervent pinch. The sound of roaring could just be heard in the background. "...Y-Yes... I mean, yes, s-sir. Everything will be-" The sound of screeching metal blared from the handset, and a similar echo bounced its way down the halls, passing the cell. The eyebrow was at maximum height. "...If there's no more tranqs, then we'll just have to put him down! I said PUT HIM DOWN!"

Savage, primal screams continued to issue from deep within the facility, brushing past the cell as they eventually faded. Winston looked back to Frank, unimpressed. "I'd much rather a Hulk than what's down there. Now get a move on -I need to get you somewhere that isn't here, sooner rather than later."

In the corridor outside, a klaxon began shouting in distress. "WARNING! CODE ORANGE SCENARIO IN SECTOR-D. ALL PERSONAL ON HIGH ALERT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. WARNING! CODE ORANGE SCENARIO IN SECTOR-D. ALL PERSONAL ON HIGH ALERT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

"Dude, war would suuuuuuck," agreed Frank, nodding. No, no she did not fully grasp everything that Winston said. She didn't completely understand how attacking one government agency would amount to attacking the whole government. She didn't completely understand how it was that SPECTRE was getting away with imprisoning a buncha normal teenagers, since let's face it: the only one of them who was any government threat was, at best, Erika, and unless the government was worried about a party girl taking over a family fortune, well, let's just say that they hadn't shown it before now. Not that any of this was within Frank's realm of thought. She would've said as much if she'd thought it. Instead, her mind was just a hazy, starved realm of confusion. In fact, now that she was standing, Frank was finding these weird spots swirling in her vision and she wasn't sure that she kept hearing what she was hearing.

Something about taking control?
everything would be alright?
Man, Frank literally just had stuff together. She should totally be able to handle it a little while longer, or at least be able to focus. Screeching metal... echo, an echo outside? Tranqs? Put him down?

"You suuuuure that's not the--" Frank began again, only to stop as Winston looked down at her, disapproval on his face. "My butler looked at me like that," she commented, "a lot," and she fell silent, since, well, that was sort of the effect of being looked at like that. Get a move on, and Frank tried, she really did, but she wobbled a bit and kinda had to lean into Winston. she was in just that position when the klaxon sounded. Frank looked up at the corridor, wondering what the heck an "ORANGE" Scenario. "Orange?" she said, talking loud enough to be heard over the noise. "DOES THAT MEAN YOU HAVE THE THING? WHAT IS HIGH ALERT?" she looked around, then realized she'd moved just a tad too fast. "ooop, Cox going down," she managed before sort of falling to the floor.