Yoko and Nikki sat on stools outside the cell where Jane Petrie slept on a hard cot. They were whispering to each other as they watched the sleeping woman. “Harry said she should be awake by now. I think she’s faking it!” Yoko hissed behind her hand.

“Hmmmm, I think you’re right. Hold on a minute, I think I know a way to find out.” Nikki was off her stool and running down the tunnel. She returned a few minutes later with a whistle around her neck and a set of bells she’d removed from the ceiling beams that held up the dungeon tunnels. “Okay, watch this! On the count of three, yell ‘FIRE!’ at the top of your lungs!” Yoko did as Nikki had instructed, joined by Nikki, who also clanged the bells, making an earsplitting sound that reverberated throughout the tunnel at the same time that they shouted, “FIRE!” Both women stepped back, overcome with the sound, but their eyes remained on Jane Petrie, who bounded off the cot like she was jet-propelled.

Nikki and Yoko waited for the sound in the tunnel where the cell was located to stop reverberating and return to normal. “Playing possum, eh?” Yoko said quietly.

Jane Petrie gripped the bars on her cell and screamed for a lawyer. “Where is this place? What am I doing here? I want a lawyer! You kidnapped me! That’s against the law.”

“So is ruining other people’s lives. How many notches do you have on that sleazy belt you wear?” Nikki demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I want a lawyer! I have rights!”

“No, you don’t. Have rights, that is,” Yoko said. “We took them all away. The lawyer hasn’t been born yet who would take you on as a client. You’re a terrorist, pure and simple.”

Petrie’s indignation was almost comical. “I am not a terrorist. I’m French and American. What do you want from me anyway?”

“What do you think we want?” Nikki asked.

“I don’t have a clue. I want a lawyer. How many times do I have to ask for one? This will not go well for you when it all comes out. I’m a citizen, I have rights.”

“Will you please sing a different song. Get it through your head. There will be no lawyer. Period. Now, tell us what we want to know, and maybe we’ll let you go,” Yoko said.

“Yeah, like I’m really going to believe that. Put it in writing and notarize it, then maybe we can talk.”