A/N: Hello to those who are still reading! I apologize for the delay in an update; I was (and still am) busy with college applications, and I happen to have a rather bad case of writers' block. Still, I don't intend to abandon this story one bit. I've got it all planned out (yes, that's right, even the very end) and I must say I enjoy writing with Lisbeth's bitchy voice in my head. Weird, no?

I wanted to elaborate on something that Cybaster has told me in a review that was submitted. It was indeed my intention to make not just the RM Corp, but also the entire BM universe and its characters in general, seem darker than in the cartoons. Sometimes, when life gives you lemons, it sometimes also tends to squirt some juice into your eyes before letting you make lemonade. The good guys don't always win, and the path to victory is often created through sacrifice and hard work. In the cartoons, life for the Zulanders is violent, but also quite hilarious, and this would not be the case in reality. So I tried to make this story as accurate as possible in relation to what the Zulanders, RM Corp and Lisbeth might go through if they did indeed exist. I hope I'm doing well so far. Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Zephyr

Chapter Six

In Which I Break Out Of Jail

"Well, it's up," said Dan, looking away from my laptop with a frown on his face. "There's no turning back now."

"I never intended to," I replied, setting a mug of coffee down on the table for him. He turned away from my laptop and took a swig.

Dan had come over three hours ago, and it was now ten-thirty in the morning. Just beyond the window. Mega City seemed the same, but my world was just about to get shaken, and what I'd asked Dan to do for me would be the reason behind it.

"This is an awfully dangerous game you've decided to participate in, Sharpie. Do you really know what you're getting yourself into?" Dan asked me for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, I do. And don't worry; no one is going to find out that you were involved. I mean, truth be told, they might suspect it, but they can't prove a thing." I sipped my own coffee. "Thanks a lot, Dan. You're a real friend."

"If I was a real friend, I'd have talked you out of this idiocy."

"I have to do this. I can't sit in the shadows and spread the lies that the Corp feeds us. All of us at MNN are as good as their slaves. My GMA just proves that they would do anything to make sure that the public believes anything and everything that they say."

"But this letter…" Dan gestured to my laptop, where he had been working all that time. "None of this can be proved. You are going to be in deep, deep shit for this."

I had asked Dan to hack into MNN's website and post a letter that I had written to the general public. In it, I detailed exactly what I had been through in the past week (but leaving out the bits about how I met ZZ and how he helped me, and that Lottie was still alive). I wrote about my research till then, the airport workers' experience, how Lady Frenzy had had me drugged and intended to kill me, et al. I apologized for not believing ZZ, and I announced my intention to quit my job at MNN.

"Let the rivers of filth flow. I need people to know about this. Besides, as a journalist, getting into danger comes with the job. At this point in time, I don't care about what happens to me, as long as everyone knows the truth."

Dan raised an eyebrow. "It may be the truth to you, but to everyone else it just looks like libel."

I ignored him. "You should probably go. The fuzz might decide to raid my house or something. I don't want you getting implicated in this."

"It might be a little too late for that." Dan shook my hand. "It was a pleasure knowing you, Lisbeth."

"Oh, shut up."

After Dan left, I turned the televiewer on and set it to MNN. I wanted to see just how fast people would notice what I'd asked Dan to do. I was sitting idle for about forty-five minutes before scheduled programming switched to breaking news. To my surprise, Lonnie was the newsreader.

"We interrupt Business Daily for a new story," Lonnie said, confusion clearly etched on her forehead. "MNN's website has been temporarily shut down due to a malevolent attack that occurred a quarter of an hour ago. A letter allegedly written by GMA winner Lisbeth Sharpe was put up on the website that makes several malicious claims against the RM Corp and several of its top officials, as well as making allegations about terrorist Ziv Zulander's innocence."

A past photo of mine flashed on screen. It was taken last summer by Lonnie herself, when we'd gone on vacation to the Grand Canyon. I sat grinning broadly on a bench, my hair flying in the breeze, a great view of the canyon behind me.

"Sharpe is currently on leave and is currently unreachable for comment. She rose to prominence after investigating the disastrous Dallas flight that killed one of MNN's own, Carlotta Savoy, which was masterminded by Zulander." A photo of me and Carlotta at a bar on Lottie's 24th birthday popped up. "Sharpe and Savoy had been childhood friends. We will keep you updated as this story progresses."

Lonnie vanished and was replaced by our business editor, who continued with the state of the stock markets.

I left the televiewer on and checked 's message boards. My letter had been taken down, but the forums were replete with copies of it, and already a virtual war seemed to have erupted, with a few taking my side (along with ZZ's), others saying that the letter was a fake and how I would never do such a thing because I hate ZZ, and others just saying that I'd gone completely insane.

I was trolling through various threads for about three hours before the police kicked my door down.

"I don't understand what I'm being charged with," I complained loudly for the seventh time. My voice echoed in the tiny interrogation room, causing the detective before me to snarl.

"Will you shut up?" he growled, slamming the table. "Shut up, lady, before I get someone to stun you."

"Ooh, just like in the movies. I'm so scared."

"Listen here, wiseass. I'm twice your size and I can crush you like a bug if you irritate me any further."

"Well then, Officer Dipshit, try your best. I would love to see your superiors come in and suspend you for mistreating me. They're behind the mirror watching us, aren't they?" I turned around in my chair and addressed the mirror. "Listen, we've all seen this is countless shows and movies, and I'm getting bored. Either tell me what you're charging me with or I walk out of here in ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven, six…"

The door opened. A man in an impeccable suit walked in and stared at the detective, who immediately got up and left. The man occupied the chair that the detective had been sitting in earlier.

"I recognize you from the news," the man said, staring at me. (Little did he know that staring was my area of expertise.)

"Most people do, actually. What the hell have I done?"

"Well, for starters, you're being charged with libel."

"I expected that, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that there are more charges since people who commit libel aren't given this treatment." I gestured to my stark surroundings.

"You're right. You're also being charged with attempting to incite anarchy and aiding a wanted criminal."

"Now that's ridiculous. I have done neither."

The man leaned back in his chair and studied me carefully. "You are obviously a threat not only to society, Miss Sharpe, but to yourself."

"Just who are you, anyway? If you aren't with the police then I'm done talking."

He smiled at me, much like one might smile at a child. "I'm not a policeman, but I am with the police. I am a psychologist."

"I thought as much. Let me ask you this – how much is the Corp paying you to portray me as a criminal?"

"See, I thought you might insinuate something like that." He pulled out a notepad and jotted down delusions of persecution, which I was able to read even from across the table.

"One statement is not enough to prove that I'm delusional."

"Now you're just rationalizing things, Lisbeth. May I call you that?"

"No, you may not. I want to talk to a policeman or another detective."

"Unfortunately, I cannot allow that. You see, you're getting worked up, and I don't think you're in the right frame of mind to be questioned."

"What, you think that I'm dangerous?"

"I didn't say that." The man said calmly. "Are you dangerous?"

The detective from earlier poked his head through the door. "We're ready." The man nodded, and the detective reentered the room. A police bot followed.

"I want a lawyer," I announced.

"One will be provided to you by the state," he said tersely. "Please stand up and put your hands behind your back."

"You can't arrest me. I wasn't read my rights."

"Actually, you were."

"Actually, I wasn't," I growled. "You can't use anything I say in court unless my rights were read to me before I was arrested. As I recall, you guys broke into my apartment, pointed at least ten guns at me, handcuffed me and told me I was under arrest, then brought me here. At no point in time were my rights read to me."

"How smart," the detective sneered as he forced my hands behind my back and handcuffed me. "I'm sure the judge will make an exception."

"And just how large a sum would such an exception cost?" I yelled. The police bot locked itself on to my arm and proceeded to drag me away from the room. The detective followed us.

"Where the hell are you taking me? The holding cells are in the other direction," I asked.

"You are being taken to Cell 40," the police bot said.

"Cell 40? What's that?"

"Cell 40 is a special holding cell for criminals who are viewed as high-risk cases."

"High risk of what? Breaking out?"

"That is correct."

I turned around to face the detective, even though the police bot was dragging me. "Oh, I see. You think Zulander is going to come and bust me out, don't you?"

"No one knows you're here, girlie, and no one will. You're being taken to Cell 40 so that we can process you quickly. Not even Zulander can break into it."

"I seriously doubt that, but I'll play along."

Soon we stopped at a glass door that was being guarded by bots on either side. IDs were scanned, and we were allowed entry through the door. However, beyond that was a metal door that was protected by a state-of-the-art biometric system.

"Only authorized personnel are allowed access to Cell 40," the detective announced. "Last I checked, that did not include Ziv Zulander." He scanned his iris and his index finger, and the door swung open to reveal Cell 40.

It was a small, cramped room, illuminated by a single light bulb that hung from an exposed wire from the ceiling. There was a bed in one corner, and the walls were painted in two shades of grey.

The police bot released its grip on me, and the detective shoved me in.

"Happy trails, Miss Sharpe," he sang gleefully before slamming the thick metal door shut.

I must have been in there a full day, but it seemed much shorter a period of time than twenty-four hours. I slept quite a bit, did a few stretching exercises, then slept some more. I was given just a bit of food in that time – one sandwich, made with tomatoes and cheese, and a small bottle of water. When I asked for more water, the police bot that had come to clear the plate away did not respond, and ultimately did not return with the water.

Just as I was about to slip into my third catnap, the slot on my door opened and the detective from earlier peered in.

"You have visitors," he said. An all too familiar voice piped up from behind him.

"Thank you, Detective Sheehan. Would you kindly leave us? Dr. Hiss and I have some rather private issues to discuss with Miss Sharpe."

The door swung open to reveal Lady Frenzy and Dr. Hiss. They stepped into the cell.

"My, this is nice," Hiss remarked as he took in the surroundings.

"Save it, Hiss," I said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Lady Frenzy and I are here to offer you a deal," Hiss said, putting his hands behind his back.

"That's right, Lisbeth," Frenzy said. "I'm sure your actions were nothing but the sad result of your overwhelming grief. You now have a chance to make things right."

"Oh please. I know you know that I was with Zulander for two days. You're here to make sure I don't ruin the Corp. Let me guess," I leaned forward. "You're here to make me an offer I simply cannot refuse."

Frenzy nodded, her lips a thin line. "The Corp is willing to drop the libel charge against you if you agree to work for our press department. We're offering you one of the highest-paid jobs there. You can earn triple the amount you do with MNN."

"I have two other changes pending. What will you do about those?"

"Those will vanish, I can assure you," Hiss said.

"That's very tempting," I replied. "But unlike the pair of you, I have my dignity to consider. So I disrespectfully decline your offer. Now get out of my cell."

"We won't be coming back, Miss Sharpe," Frenzy said through gritted teeth. "We consider you an asset to the Corp, and that is why we have been so persistent in trying to protect you."

I guffawed. "Protect me? So you call drugging me, tying me up and leaving me in the back of a van to be blown up protection? What, are you feeling guilty because the award you bought for me was a wasted investment?"

"Lady Frenzy, let's leave. I doubt she's going to accept our offer. We are wasting our time here." Hiss turned and knocked on the door. "Detective, let us out. We're done."

I gave both Hiss and Frenzy the stink eye right till the door slammed shut again. I sat down on the bed once again and settled down to sleep.

Twenty minutes into my peaceful, dreamless slumber, I was awoken by the sounds of metal banging and shots being fired outside my cell. Then the ground beneath the bed suddenly began to shake. I knew what was going to happen next.

A hole opened up in the floor, and Jammerzz' head popped out. "Hello again - no time to waste! The police bots are on ZZ's case!"

"Mine too, Jammerzz." I dropped myself into the hole. It was a tunnel that obviously led to some place far, far away from the police station. "Hey there, Toolzz. Lead the way, guys!"

Jammerzz spoke into his communicator. "We've got her, and we're heading out!"

We walked for about half an hour through that tunnel, in which time I learnt that ZZ, the sports BOYZZ and Swang had been back at the police station staging a diversion when Toolzz and Jammerzz were the real team breaking me out.

"They'll be waiting for us when we get out of this place," Toolzz said, brushing some dirt off his shoulders. "We tunneled in from a grove just beyond the start of the freeway."

Sure enough, when we reached the end of the tunnel, everyone was there, waiting for the three of us so that we could get away as soon as possible.

"Well, you look well," All Ball said to me.

"How long was I in there?" I asked him.

"A day and a half."

"You guys don't really procrastinate, do you?" The sports BOYZZ snickered.

"Not when it matters, no," Bogey replied with a smile.

I turned to Batzz and Ace. "Where are ZZ and Swang? I can see Twig behind that grove of trees there."

"We're right here," ZZ said, emerging from the trees with Swang at his side.

This time, it was my turn to extend my hand. "I don't know why you broke me out, but thanks. I owe you everything, and believe me; it is not in my nature to be melodramatic."

ZZ shook my hand. "I believe you, Lisbeth. Thanks for keeping an open mind."

"If I had done that earlier, I would have saved us both a lot of trouble."

He shook his head. "Well, what's done is done. I'm just glad you're on our side now."

"Speaking of taking sides, I have a favor to ask of you."

All of a sudden, the BOYZZ stopped chattering and turned to look at us.

"Don't worry, I have payment." I unzipped the jacket that I'd been wearing and pulled out a micro-recorder. "I thought this might be of use to you. Take a listen. I activated it just as the police stormed into my apartment."

ZZ took the micro-recorder from me very carefully, as though it was made of gold. "Lisbeth, you don't need to pay me back for anything – but thanks for this."

"You haven't heard what I want."

ZZ looked at me suspiciously. "Now I'm worried. What is it?"

I took a deep breath. "I want to fight too. Let me join you and the BOYZZ."

A terse silence filled the clearing.

"I must say, I quite like the idea of you joining us, but I can't allow it unless I'm thoroughly convinced. I can't afford a liability at this stage in the game. So, Lisbeth," ZZ looked at me, "convince me."

We had all driven back to the house, where ZZ had called a meeting in the living area. I was made to sit right in the center, much like an interrogation. Around me, Blitzy and the other BOYZZ stared at me expectantly.

"Well, for one, I'm a recognizable public figure. What I have to say will definitely count, whether it sounds crazy or not. With me on your side, I can convince more people that you're innocent, even if it's a small number."

Blitzy narrowed her eyes. Genesix and Watzon nodded.

"Two, I have nothing left. I think it's safe to say at this point that my career, however short-lived, is over. In fact," I grinned, "I've even packed my bags and left them in a culvert off the freeway. If I go back, I'm in serious danger, and I know you won't allow that."

There was more whispered assent.

"Third, I'm a hard worker. I'm determined and stubborn as hell. I'll train under each one of you guys if that's what it takes to get me fighting fit. Pun intended. Fourth, even if you say no, I am not leaving. I want to help you. I will make you make me help you." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I'll train her, ZZ," Ninjzz said. "It would be a pleasure."

"Thanks, Ninjzz." I smiled at the BOYZZ.

"I'm still not convinced," Blitzy said.

"I'd have to agree with Blitzy, Lisbeth." ZZ said. "I don't know if you can handle yourself under that kind of pressure. It's easy to say all this now, but once you're out there in the midst of the fighting, it's a whole different story."

"Please," I scoffed. "I'm a journalist. I'm trained to work under pressure. Besides, did I mention the fact that I can whip up a mean chocolate mousse cake?"

Blitzy peered at me. "What, you can cook? How well?"

"Pretty damn well, actually. I'm a real foodie."

"You couldn't be better than me!" Cook protested indignantly.

"Cook, anyone is better than you," Blitzy muttered.

"Well, that's that then." ZZ smiled. "Welcome aboard, Sharpie."

"What, just because she can bake a cake?" Cook yelled.

I smiled to myself. Things would be rough, but I was going to be okay.

A/N: And here is the obligatory groveling: please leave a review telling me what you think. Thanks for reading!