“Ma’am,” The faceless, nameless officer entered the room. “The prisoners are here.”
“Bring them into interrogation. Separate rooms. I’ll be there soon,” said the chief coolly, without looking up. She knew these types. Just been caught, scared, confused, not wanting to go back. According to reports, there were three of them, easy. Now all she had to do was wait, make the prisoners think, scare them into cooperating.
After a few minutes and a bit of paperwork, the chief stood up. It was time to start. She made her way to the first interrogation room. She stood a moment outside the door with the mirror she kept there, fixing her long black hair, deep blue uniform, and all her badges and medallions, making herself look presentable, intimidating, and fierce. When she was ready, she put a cool but confident expression on her face, prepared herself, and entered.
She quickly analyzed the prisoner as she took her seat across the cold, metal table. He was the average brawn, muscular and intimidating, but with no real intelligence, easily manipulated by the right words.
“I’m not speakin’, lady, so don’t be expectin’ nothin’.” The chief was right, obviously NOT the brains.
“All I need to know is how you thought you could escape.”
The thug had been manipulated enough. He wouldn't talk easy. “You know, you were just being used the whole time.” Still no reaction; there probably wouldn't be any time soon. She needed to leave, not waste time, but still come out on top.
“Listen, kid.” She became sterner. “I know you know something, and you will tell me. Maybe you just need some time to think about it.” The chief walked out of the room, making sure to slam the door behind her.
The next interrogation went much the same, an uncooperative idiot who could have been the other ones twin. They both had the same dark blonde hair, same square face, same hazel eyes, same haircut. Typical.
The chief knew what was next: a smart, confident, powerful young man who was probably only slightly muscular, and in need of the muscle power the others provided him with. He would know what he wanted, and how to get it. The chief would have to be careful, and smarter than him in order to get anything. After a moment of getting ready, she went in. what she saw surprised her, and she thought she had seen everything.
Sitting in the uncomfortable metal chair, which was tilted onto its back two legs, with feet on the table, was a girl. She was a short girl, who was small and nimble, and who couldn't have been more than 15. How she ended up in a federal prison was not something the chief really wanted to know.
“So,” said the girl as the chief sat down. “Those two didn't tell you anything, did they?” her voice was powerful and calm, making up for her outward appearance. With a little acting, no one would suspect her of anything.

“I’ll take that as a no officer?” the girl scanned her for a moment. “Good. I trained them well.”

Finally, the chief found her words again. “Why are you so cocky? In case you haven’t noticed, we caught you.”

At this, the girl slammed the chair back onto all four legs, retracing her feet as she did so. “Catch me?” She laughed. “You could never catch me.”

“Then how, if you don’t mind explaining to me, did you end up here?”

“I chose to be here, I wanted you to catch me.”

“Of course you did.”

“No, really. Remember those poor boys who escaped from Alcatraz?” the chief nodded. “Did they make it to land, or did they perish in the oceans? We don’t know, and we might not ever. Me, I wanted to prove I could.”

“This sounds like a great story. Do tell.”

“A magician never reveals her secrets.” The girl still remained calm as she rested her chin on her palm. “But I can make an exception. Let’s see.. Obviously, the first step to escaping from prison is to get into prison. I let the officers catch me, the judges send me to the most secure prison in America, and let them lock me up. I could have done it all by myself, but those two nimrods were a major part of my master plan. It was too easy, really, to fill their heads with ideas of the glory of freedom, to be out of that death trap.

“Escaping from a small island in the Caribbean requires a boat.”

The chief paused a moment, wondering if that was it, if her story was really over.”No, really. Now tell the rest.”

“You see, chief, it’s been a while since my last drink. Would you get me a glass of water? And a sandwich?” the look in her eyes told the chief she wouldn’t continue until she got what she wanted. Perhaps she didn’t even want it, but just to mess with the chief. Still, the chief wanted to hear the end of this story. She waved to the officers she knew would be standing on the other side of the one-way glass. She heard the distinct pounding of regulation boots against the wooden floor.

“It will be here soon. Now, back to your story.”

“Right. I had those two pretend to destroy a bunch of raincoats and hide them. They also very kindly dug me a tunnel with spoons I snuck from the kitchens. Hard labor, too much for a weak little girl like me.” She put on her innocent face, and then laughed. “The fools. I found a small room that was unused; I believe it was once used for psych patients. Fitting, isn’t it?” she looked to where the chief sat, unmoving. “C’mon, lighten up a bit! Anyway, it was there we started creating our raft, and there that we stashed our materials. It’s amazing, really, all the uses for a fork.” She paused to wait for the chief to figure something out.

“You used it as a needle.”

“Precisely. The thread I stole from the clothing repair job the guards put me on.” She made some comment about sexism, barely a whisper to the chief. “We sealed it with glue from an arts and crafts class prisoners are forced to take. Before long, it was really starting to come together. Some leftover wood and plastic trays made for great paddles. Before long, it was time to make our escape.

“You should really increase security there. A few dummies in our beds and no one suspected a thing! We snuck out through the roof noiselessly, and shimmied down a drain pipe in the dead of night. On the ground, I had them blow up the raft while I kept watch, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The chase was on.

“After the raft was blown up, we set it in the ocean, and I knew we had to work quickly, for the sun would rise soon and they would notice we were gone. The two rowed out into the current, which would take us to New England. The little food we had was mostly soaked with salt water by the time the sun rose, but I still had some. Bossing those two around is hard work.

“Hour after hour, we waited in silence. The police were sure to come looking for us, and the slightest noise could give us away. We waited through the waves splashing gently on the side of our raft. I had chosen the perfect time to head out, there were no storms, no clouds. Only the gentle current reminded us of the sea’s amazing power. It all went as planned.

“Well, it all went as planned until a small speedboat was heard in the distance, coming closer. Before long I could see it, and realized it was just a civilian craft. We were probably close to Florida at that point. Nevertheless, they would probably be suspicious of three people in prison uniforms drifting along in a homemade raincoat raft.” She paused.

“That’s when you stormed the couples’ ship.”

“Exactly. We could take the boat to Miami and blend in even more. We just needed to get them off it. They passed by and came close to us, to see what we were doing. Making sure to cover our faces, we jumped onto their boat, seized control, and dropped the two lovebirds into our boat. I knew they would survive, whether the police followed their screaming or they ended up in New York somewhere.

“Driving the speedboat took a little getting used to, but I got the hang of it.” She paused for a minute. “Now where is my order?” the chief took a moment to figure out what she meant before she realized it must be the water and sandwich. As if on cue, an officer walked into the room with a plate and a red plastic cup. “Ah. Here we are.” She said as she took the cup and plate. She quickly drunk the water and took a small bite of the PB & J sandwich, proving the chiefs theory correct; it was just to annoy her.

“Now please, continue.” Said the chief flatly.

“Very well. Where was I.” she paused. “Oh, I remember. We were soon speeding across the water towards Miami. As we neared the city, I tried to find a place that would be inconspicuous, where we, inn green jump suits, might blend in. I found a small dock with barely any people on it, and the ones who were there were shady, probably were or should have been in prison. We ran into the nearest store and bought civilian clothing with money we found on our stolen ship.

“Next came the easy part; staying out of sight. I figured we would only have to last a few weeks to prove we could escape, and still be criminal enough to end up back here, and prove it. We rented a small apartment, got small jobs around the city, and blended in well as we could. It wasn’t that hard, really, once you get over the mental part of being a wanted fugitive. Those two needed my help to, but they got over it.

“The hard part was getting us caught again without looking to stupid. I decided to set my companions up. We went to a beach in the middle of nowhere, and I anonymously called in to report drug smuggling. The cops were there in no time and arrested us, and now, here I am.”

“Thanks for that.” The chief said, collecting her things and standing up to leave. “You will be going back to jail for a long time.”

The prisoner looked shocked and insulted. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Tisk tisk tisk, the girl made the sound. “You see, officer, it appears that, in all the commotion, no one remembered to read me my Miranda Rights.”

It was the chiefs turn to be shocked. The girls maniacal cackle filled the room.