Chapter Text
Roland POV
Out of all the interrogation rooms I've been put in, this one was by far the most stuffy.
Granted, I've only been in like two others, but the point still stands. Oh! Where are my manners? Roland Glen, hacker extraordinaire and general pain in the ass at your service. I am currently being held in the DHS Headquarters. You are now probably wondering what I'm doing here. Well, that makes two of us. Originally I was being brought in by some beat cops from my neighborhood. The next thing I know some men in black-looking dudes show up, and cart me off to wherever this is. I'm usually not too worried whenever I get arrested. None of the donut-munching assholes in my hometown had the mental capacity to even comprehend my crimes, much less prosecute me for them. But the fact that I'm being held in a place like this makes me think that maybe my luck has finally run out. Dennis would be having the biggest laugh right now if he heard about this. That is if he could still laugh
Suddenly, I hear the door open, and in walks some guy in a suit. Tallish, pasty white dude. Got to be in his late thirties to early forties. The look on his face says " let's get this over with so I can get back to watching Grey's Anatomy with my cats".
"Roland Glenn. We finally meet." I raise my eyebrow
"Do we know each other?"
"No" he responds, "but I'm a big fan of your work. I've been wanting to sit down and have a chat with you for a while, but you were surprisingly hard to track down''
"Yeah, I get that a lot. Listen, man, I don't know what it is you think I did but I-"
"I'ma stop you right there kid," he says as he gets up and steps towards the water machine (are those things mandatory in an Interrogation room?). I notice he doesn't have a gun on his hip like every other agent here. Oh no, what if this guy isn't a Homeland agent? What if he's one of...them?
He notices me staring and says "Didn't think I would need it, from what your file says you're not the violent type".
"Who are you?" I ask.
"Don Self, Homeland Agent".
"Can I see a badge?" I ask.
"You're not in the position to demand anything, kid," he says as he pours himself some water.
"Besides, it doesn't matter who I am. What matters is what I can do. Which is making sure that you rot in a federal prison for the rest of your natural life". He says as he sips some water. "Thirsty?"