Cloak & Dagger [Matthew]

The man who opened the door (Brody was going to assume he was Mr. Dunham, he couldn't fathom who else it would be) didn't look very happy to see him; but, then, few people would be pleased to see a uniformed Peacekeeper at the door, let alone at this hour of the morning.

His attitude, though, rubbed Brody the wrong way in more than one way. His authority hadn't been the least bit eroded by his stint as an Academy instructor, and if Mr. Dunham had two brain cells to rub together he'd figure out in a big goddamned hurry not to push his buttons. If not, Matthew would have to teach him. Fast.

"Why are you looking for my son, may I ask? He's off this weekend." Dunham asked, his hand on the doorway blocking Brody from making his entrance.

"Official business." Brody replied irritably. "I advise you to go get him, or I'll get him myself."

This wasn't how Brody had wanted to do things. If it were up to him, he'd have Matthew downstairs, laying out the plan to make this mess go as smoothly as possible, make sure he knew Brody was still on his side... However stupid he thought the kid might be for making this choice. Unless he had done the unfathomably stupid and was back at the Ruze residence, Brody sincerely doubted he'd be anywhere but at home.

The notice of Matthew's appearance at the Detention Center was heavy in his hand; he didn't intend to read it out loud, but it was the only thing keeping him from trying to forget it ever existed. Brody didn't wait for an invitation, shouldering his way past Mr. Dunham through the doorway into the house; he was suddenly reminded of Matthew's admissions that it was only him and his father here, and it grimly occurred to him why Matthew had been trying to stay in his own district.

"I've been sent to collect your son to give a statement about the Peacekeeper assault case he was involved in." Brody elaborated, "However, he's been counter-charged with trespassing."

He regarded Mr. Dunham with a hard look.

"We can do this the easy way, where I tell him everything he needs to know to sail through this as smoothly as possible, or we can do this the hard way where I have to take him away in handcuffs." Reluctantly, he went on. "I was your son's trainer in the last few weeks of his Academy training. For all of our sakes, I'd much rather do this the easy way."

All things considered, it probably shouldn't have surprised Brody to find out that Mr. Dunham didn't seem to know anything about the case he was referring to. He couldn't remember whether Matthew had said expressly that he and his father had drifted apart, but it had been heavily implied when Brody had taken him home with him on leave to see his parents.

“My son did not trespass anywhere. You got the wrong guy.”

So his hunch had been right. Distanced or no, Mr. Dunham was at willing to protect his son, even lying to the face of a Peacekeeper about a case he'd had no idea about until three seconds ago in his defense.

His expression as he came to realize who Brody was, though, told him that he was even less welcome in the man's home than he somehow already was.

“You son of a bitch.”

Watch your tone, Dunham.

“You trained him, helped him and gained his trust and now you come knocking on my door and want to arrest my son? Are you out of your mind?"

That stung. The Peacekeeper in him wanted to shove Mr. Dunham against the wall, demand to know what gave him the right to speak to him, an officer of the law, in such a presumptuous and disrespectful manner. The friend, the mentor and the man in him wanted to defend himself; he didn't want to be here any more than they did. He wasn't here to throw Matthew under the bus, he hadn't played any games with the kid, he had saved him from the gallows and was still trying to save him from the wrath of the law now that his protection as an Academy recruit was waning. Mr. Dunham pointed at the door, as if he held any authority over Brody.

“Get out of my house, now. You are the one trespassing!”

Brody very nearly rolled his eyes. What, are you going to call the Peacekeepers on me?

He was about ready to tear into Mr. Dunham when the pad of bare feet on the floor alerted him to the presence he'd been looking for, though he didn't immediately look away from Mr. Dunham.

"Brody?"

Brody couldn't help it, hearing his first name like that; his shoulders relaxed, and his expression became less harsh. Matthew seemed genuinely confused (and did he detect a little bit of happiness?) to see him again, hair mussed as if he had just woken up from the shouting.

“What are you doing here?”

He sighed, turning to face his former recruit with a look of remorse.

"Ruze is charging you with trespassing." He knew Matthew already knew this; it had been one of the many roadblocks he had laid down trying to get him to reconsider dropping out of the Academy. "They sent me to collect you."

Brody turned with a scowl towards Mr. Dunham. "And if you paid any attention to what your son has apparently told you about me, you'd realize I'm his best chance of coming out of this as intact as possible."

This was going so much worse than he had expected. Not that he had expected this to be easy, but he had at least expected Matthew to understand how hard this was on him; his disappointment that the kid had dropped out hadn't dwindled, he couldn't lie about that. But once again, Matthew seemed to be forgetting that Brody wasn't heartless; he'd invested too much of himself into his former recruit to give him the cold shoulder now.

The badge on his lapel felt much heavier than it normally did.

"You're not taking my son anywhere. For crying out loud. He's one of you now." Mr. Dunham says finally, stepping between Brody and his son.

Great, so they were teaming up against him now?

"What the hell are you doing, Brody?" His first name again, but this time angrier. "Is this because I let you down? Because you're disappointed that I didn't turn out to be who you want me to be? Because I actually have a heart?"

Brody closed his eyes for a second, letting out a long-suffering sigh. He was sleep deprived, he was physically exhausted, and he wanted to be anywhere but here doing anything but this... And Matthew was fighting back against him.

"If I didn't have a heart, Matthew, I wouldn't be here." He replied, his tone betraying his exhaustion and growing more tense as he continued. "I've spent the last week running interference since your big secret got blown wide open; I handled the other Peacekeepers that were on the scene. I tortured Eiten Ruze to keep his silence about you knocking up his daughter to save your life. And here I am of my own volition trying to tell you how to get through an interrogation I've been ordered to conduct and come out of it unscathed. Don't you dare presume on my motives when I stand to lose far more than I'll gain by throwing you under the bus."

Admitting what he had done to Ruze wasn't one of the prouder things Brody had ever done, but he was growing steadily less patient with the fight the Dunhams were putting up against his attempts to help. He had warned Matthew from the get-go that his power to protect him would dwindle if he left the Academy; if they spurned it now, there would be nothing he could do if he kept putting up the same resistance in the interrogation.

Brody couldn't help the clench in his chest as Matthew breathed a 'holy shit' as he realized just how far his mentor had gone in his defense; he didn't know what he expected by throwing that information in his face, besides maybe a little goddamned solidarity. Few people looked at him the same way after they realized he had the capacity and the willingness to leave his humanity at the door.

Mr. Dunham, especially, paled visibly as it sunk in that this man, one who had done the unthinkable to another person, had been personally training his son.

"Alright."

Finally, some reprieve. Brody's shoulders sagged with relief; if Matthew had opted to fight him every step of the way, this already less-than-ideal scenario would have turned into an absolute nightmare.

"Let me get my shirt."

Matthew turned to finish getting dressed, only to be stopped by his father; the tough, no-nonsense face he'd put on telling Brody he wasn't welcome in his home was gone in an instant, and he looked every bit the old man he really was. Mr. Dunham begged him not to go, trying against all odds to convince him not to let Brody take him; he couldn't help himself but turn slightly away, like he was intruding on a very personal moment. But Matthew reasoned with him; he knew just as well as Brody did that running away from a warrant would nullify everything his mentor had done to protect him. The best they could do was get through this as quietly and as easily as they could.

His recruit was back in a moment, dressed and solemn-faced.

"I'm ready."

Brody checked his watch.

"I didn't show up this early for no reason; we still have time." He said, "You need to know what to expect."

He motioned for Matthew to follow him outside, towards the back. The dashboard camera on the cruiser was running, but no one would think less of the time they were taking to come back; Brody had already fabricated Matthew's statement, buying them precious minutes to work a strategy of some kind. When they were outside and out of Mr. Dunham's line of hearing, Brody turned to Matthew; he didn't do nervous, but he was edgy. He never thought he'd be ordered to interrogate someone he gave a damn about; there was a reason he kept most people at arm's length.

"Here's how this is going to play out," He started, "Officially, you're not under arrest. I'm taking you into custody to be questioned on the charge of trespassing."

Thankfully, the Sergeant hadn't ordered an arrest warrant; Brody would do it if he had to, but he couldn't stomach the idea of loading Matthew in handcuffs into the back of the cruiser.

"The questioning--" He hesitated to use the word 'interrogation'. "Will take place at the Detention Center. As your interrogator, my job is to determine whether or not you're guilty of the charge; the only way I know at this point to get you out of this with minimal injury and a believable discharge from the Academy is for you to plead guilty."

He paused, collecting his thoughts. Suddenly Brody's mind for detail was getting in his way, going over every possible scenario that might cause their facade to crumble.

"Mind your 'sirs' and 'ma'ams' from the minute I put you in the cruiser to the minute I return you home; it's crucial you don't slip and call me by my name or my rank. Most interrogations are observed by another Peacekeeper; I was assigned to you because we already have rapport, and I assured my superior that since you were my student you trust me and would be compliant. If they believe our relationship is too informal, I'll be replaced on the account of being too personally involved in the case. Do you understand so far?"

This was going to be rough. Brody was trying his best to be honest but gentle in explaining what to expect, and already Matthew was showing his nerves; his jaw clenched, avoiding Brody's eyes and his breathing had increased. Already Brody was racking his head how he was going to keep this interrogation under control with the eyes of another Peacekeeper on him.

"Are you sure about this? I could go two ways. I could plead guilty and still graduate, then face peace keeper law consquences...latrine duty or whatever they come up with. Or I could plead guilty and go to the dc... not just for the 'questioning'."

Brody sighed.

"If it were up to me, I would tell you to plead guilty, finish the Academy and get off with a month of latrine duty and maybe a verbal ass-chewing." His voice was hard, but Brody was in no mood to be having this discussion a second time. "But then you would be tethered to the Peacekeepers for the next 20 years, and you wouldn't get to see your girlfriend and child until the end of your contract."

He couldn't believe he was saying it; Brody was used to being able to successfully manipulate the system and his colleagues around him to suit his own agenda. This, bending his own around Matthew's, was utterly foreign. He reached into his pocket, pulling out Dunham's badge and holding it in one hand, the etched lettering facing his recruit; even after he had left Matthew behind in his office, Brody had returned and picked it back up, physically unable to leave it behind.

"This is your last chance to change your mind." He said softly, "It's the surest way to keep you safe... But I'll see it through to the end regardless."

And Matthew still had the audacity to accuse Brody of not having a heart.

"I need to know for sure, O'Rourke."

"Dropping you from the Academy will be treated as part of the punishment for trespassing... the best I can do beyond that is to make the case to give you the most lenient physical punishment on top of that." They wouldn't maim or disable him, but it wouldn't be fun either way. "It's your call."

Matthew's eyes trained over his shoulder widened slightly; Brody glanced behind him. There was a figure walking down the road, and though he didn't recognize the figure, he didn't have to. It was someone Matthew knew.

"Understood, sir. Let's get this over with."

Brody nodded, putting his helmet back on and leading Matthew back through the house to the cruiser. His 'suspect' still had to sit in the back, but at least he didn't have to sit in the back in handcuffs like some of the lowlifes Brody had had in his place before. Mr. Dunham looked pale and sick with worry on the porch, but Brody didn't pay him any mind as he turned the cruiser to make their way to the detention center; he had to get into the right mindset for this.

"Recruit Dunham." It felt so foreign and cold to call him that now. But they only had so much time before they wouldn't be able to speak freely; the dash cam had video, but thankfully the powers that be had decided audio wasn't necessary. "There are a few other things you'll need to understand while we're there."

If Matthew never wanted to speak to him again after this was over, Brody wouldn't blame him.

"I have a... reputation at the Detention Center. There may be other Peacekeepers that tell you about some of the things I've done to scare you, and for the sake of making this convincing I may have to paint myself as your enemy... But know this. I may have to manhandle you, I may have to put on a good show to make my superiors believe I'm doing my job and that you don't know any more than you're telling. But unless I believe it's integral to saving your life, I won't hurt you."

It probably wasn't much of a comfort, but Brody had to protect himself as well; though he was a relative newcomer to the precinct that encompassed the Academy, he was well-known at the Detention Center. The more senior enlisted would know if he was pulling his punches --so to speak-- if Matthew did put up a fight that any other interrogation might say called for some 'enhanced techniques'. If it did go to hell, as long as it looked good, they could avoid a real crisis.

Matthew visibly pales as Brody warns him about the impending storm he might face; strangely enough, that temper of his was the most under control in the interrogation room. In his element. Where he held all of the cards, all of the power, and could get whatever it was he needed from his suspects, however he needed to get it. His coworkers had seen glimpses of it; Brody might only hold the rank of a Corporal, but his reputation gave him more sway than his rank afforded him.

"I hope I can play this right. I'll just try to be as compliant as possible. Spare you the trouble... and me."

"You said it yourself, Dunham; you're not stupid. As long as you stick to the charge you're here for and don't get into any fights, this shouldn't be too bad." He replied.

"You know what I'll do."

Why do you think they picked me as your interrogator?

The rest of the drive was relatively quiet; Brody was poring over details in his head, trying to figure out how he was going to persuade the Sergeant to let Matthew off easy. The fact that he was still technically in the Academy bode well for him; being recommended to be dropped from the program would weigh down the hand that dished out the punishments, but it would be infinitely preferable to what a civilian in the same spot would be facing. Trespassers often had the tendons in their feet and legs slashed; neither permanently crippling or fatal, but it was terribly painful with an equally excruciating recovery process (since civilians were limited to medical knowledge of their district).

Brody was hoping Matthew would get away with no more than a few lashes.

It was a grim thing to hope for, but it was something. The Detention Center gradually appeared down the road in front of them, gray and looming and foreboding; for many, this was their last view of the outside world for a long while. Brody flashed his badge at the guard watching the gate, pulling the cruiser through as the huge metal doors opened. The first wall was still a few miles outside the center itself; while no prisoner had ever escaped before, the Peacekeepers intended to keep it that way if anyone actually made it outside.

"Why did you choose this job?" Matthew asked, the nervousness in his voice painfully audible.

Brody thought for a moment about how to answer.

"I didn't. Technically." He replied finally. "I wasn't lying when I said I belonged to CSI. But the Peacekeepers put out word that they needed interrogators, and my Lieutenant volunteered me as a candidate." Brody frowned; the visor of his helmet had turned back to amber in the shadow of the Detention Center, making his features visible in the rear view mirror. "Turned out to be a good fit."

He parked the cruiser just outside the front gate, parking it and turning off the engine but pausing. Brody looked at Matthew in the rear-view mirror; there were a thousand things he wanted to say, but they were out of time to talk.

"Don't forget, while we're here." These sounded like famous last words. "You're going to have to trust me."

Brody got out of the cruiser, letting Matthew out of the back (they wouldn't open from the inside) and leading him towards the front door; the neutral, thousand-yard-stare expression found his face in a heartbeat. Now wasn't the time to be wearing his heart on his sleeve. The guards at the front door waved him through, well aware who he was and who he was accompanied by. First and foremost, Matthew had to be processed in; Brody motioned the younger man to sit in one of the metal chairs in the long hallway with the high, gray ceilings. Everything about the Detention Center was deliberate; the architecture was forboding, designed to make those who entered it unwillingly realize exactly how small they were. The Peacekeepers, clad in white, were a stark contrast to the dingy gray walls. Anything that might be considered a furnishing (chairs, desks, light fixtures) were metal and minimal and bolted to the floor and walls.

Even those who hadn't been found guilty yet would feel like they were in prison.

"Wait here." He directed him, his tone becoming cold and clinical. "I have to go retrieve your file before you can be questioned. Don't move, don't speak unless you're specifically spoken to. I'll be back."