Ryan smiled cordially back as she seemed to appraise him more charitably than the men in blue who'd preceded him, clearly thinking he had some kind of authority that he'd lost years ago when he'd been taken off years ago.  It was an empty smile, but an acknowledgment of her difficulties nonetheless, and he did his best to give her what information he could.  "Ms. Sanders, I'm sure you understand the unconventional situation that your arrival puts these gentlemen in," he explained.  "These guys don't know how to make heads or tails out of you, frankly.  Obviously, these yokels couldn't get their shit together long enough to get a half-accurate footnote on your file."  Noises of frustration echoed behind the mirror.  "But regardless, either you aren't who you say you are, in which case they couldn't divulge information on that investigation to you in the first place, or -- perhaps more interestingly -- you<i>are</i>who you say you are, and they buried the wrong person under your alias.  Regardless, enough facts are lining up that you've got them stumped, so I'd expect the body to be exhumed shortly, and then we'll see what's what."<br/><br/>"Listen, the truth is, the guys who've got you locked in here like a freakshow don't have enough braincells to rub together to find their way into their lunchboxes without a youtube video showing which end of the brown paper bag to open."  Louder noises of disdain came from behind the mirror.  "I don't think you're going to get much out of them.  They're bankrupt of a single instinct between the lot of them.  And the captain?  They're probably still at that publicity rally, either cleaning up after sucking off a politician or trying to remember how to tie their shoelaces."<br/><br/>This last statement seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as a loud shout could be heard, followed by the sound of a door being swung furiously open.  Dodson gave Myra a sly wink as a large, bald cop nearly broke down the door to the interrogation room.  "Fuck you, buddy!" he shouted, as Ryan stood from his chair just in time to catch his ham-sized fist to the jaw, spinning him around and sending him reeling to the floor.  "You don't disrespect the chief, you fucking spook!" he snarled.<br/><br/>Two other cops, clearly burdened with an overabundance of patience that Goliath had been missing, followed into the room, grabbing him by the arms.  "Jesus, Frazier!" they snarled, dragging him backwards out of the room.  "Can't hit a fucking fed like that you moron!"<br/><br/>"He had it coming!!" Frazier retorted as the door slammed shut.<br/><br/>Ryan spat, blood dripping from his lip to the floor as he pushed himself up, planting his elbow on the table and lifting himself up shakily from the ground.  "Phew," he exhaled, a slight groan as he sat back in the chair, straightening his tie.  "Course they'd have the big guy supervising the interrogation today."  He inhaled sharply and exhaled again, dabbing at the blood on his lip as he did so with a small napkin he'd dug out of his pocket -- soaked, of course.  "They're erasing the tapes as we speak to protect Officer Hulk's job, so we've got about five minutes to ourselves."<br/><br/>Some of the pretense and properness of his voice seemed to fall out, as he addressed her in a devil-may-care tone, clearly no longer bound by the same strict regulation he touted before the camera fell off.  "So what's the real story here?" he asked, eyeing her with a hint of annoyance.  "Did they take a blood sample from you?  You know they're going to run a blood test against that girl in the ground, and the truth is going to be obvious pretty quickly."