Where —? She had been with the TSA Agents. They had been questioning her when … That was the last thing she recalled. Elspeth sat bolt upright. Her vision snapped into clarity with the force of a punch. She was in a cell of some sort, some kind of a jail. The walls were stone and the air was sharp and cold. She saw her shuddering breath in puffs of vapor. There was noise — a lot of noise. Something playing on a loudspeaker or bullhorn … she couldn’t make it out. She looked down at her lanky body. She was not wearing her own clothes. Instead, she was wearing ragged burlap or canvas pants, tied at the waist. She wore a long sleeve shirt made of the same material, drab blue in color. Someone had changed her clothes! Had she been raped? A quick check reassured her. No. That, at least, had not happened. She was on a bed, a rough metal bed with squeaky springs and an old mattress. Brown wool blankets laid on it. She snatched one up and threw it around her shoulders to contain her shivering.
