Melissa, otherwise known as Misty, sits criss-cross applesauce in the center of a small twelve foot by twelve foot room lit only by an overhead bulb. The room is bare of all furnishings and the only window is a double pane of one-way glass that does not allow her to see outside. There is one doorway and the sound of dripping water from somewhere in the corner.

Misty is an overweight girl, five feet and two inches tall, weighing, well, that part is irrelevant. Needless to say, regardless of her diminutive, pudgy stature and nearly porcine nose, she has shoulder-length black hair, a pale complexion, dark brown eyes that are almost black - which are currently closed - and her face is set in an expression of complete and utter serenity.

Her hands are resting palms up above her knees. She appears to be breathing normally, almost as if she was asleep, though it is more likely that she is merely meditating. A knock on the door from outside occurs, whether it is a rough knock or a soft one, it makes no difference or impression on the twenty-three year old within.

Private detective Jane Derricote was pissed as all get out. This upstart had the key to the code that would bring down the largest MF-15 gang west of the Mississippi and she wasn't relinquishing it for whatever reason. As Detective Derricote watched through the one-way glass, her face flamed with anger and her fists coiled at her sides. Thankfully there were no cameras in the observation room, and that the room was empty, otherwise they would have seen the twenty-eight year old detective flipping the bird like a road rage victim at the girl sitting calmly, eyes closed, criss-cross applesauce in the middle of the bare cell.

Finally, losing her temper completely, she marched through the door into the cell and kicked Melissa hard in the right shin. "Listen up you snot-nosed pretentious punk! Give me the cipher now or I'll use truth serum on your bitchy ass!" The girl on the floor had no reaction other than a slight throat bob amid normal relaxed breathing. The Detective kicked out higher, this time at the girl's exposed right elbow, and heard the satisfying crunch as something - probably bone - gave away under her heel.

Spinning on her heel, she closed the door and locked it with the dead bolt on the outside. The warehouse was full of all sorts of people, being a public use building, but the detective was confident that any assholes who had the audacity to enter the room she had just vacated would want to do the same to that meditating bitch. With a self satisfied smirk like she had just won the lottery, Detective Derricote went to get a deli sandwich and intended to return in a couple of hours to see if her illegal prisoner was still alive.