Bao is known as one of the best interrogators around. He's been a cop almost as long as Lin, and Lin's practically been a cop from birth. (Toph, she's been reliably informed, used to carry her around headquarters in a sling and call her the tiny captain – a name that thankfully never stuck.) But after an hour in the interrogation room with the girl, he comes into the crowded break room looking deflated.

"Well?" asks Lin.

Bao shakes his head.

"Couldn't get anything out of her," Bao says. He doesn't make eye contact with any of the rest of the team – just Lin. He has his pride, after all. No need to let them see the apologetic, exhausted look in his eyes. "Don't think I'm right for the job. The girl's… tricky."

At the table rookies have paused their game of pusoy to listen. They probably think they're being subtle. Lin cuts them a pointed look, eyebrow raised, before turning her attention back to Bao. She ignores the sound of nervous swearing.

"So I've been told," she says evenly. Bao is the third cop she's sent in to drag the truth out of the girl, and the third to fail. "Any suggestions?"

"Maybe you should let Nana have a go," he offers.

In the corner of the break room, Nana visibly perks up. No surprise. She's eager to prove herself, to earn some recognition. But Lin dismisses the idea immediately. Eager isn't always good, and Nana is too fond of knives for this to end in anything but blood and paperwork. Lin hates paperwork.

"I don't think so," Lin says, feeling unwontedly irritable. Three interrogations, hours of wasted time, and one lone firebender slowly driving her up the fucking wall. This has gone on long enough. "I'll deal with this one."

The girl is still seated at the interrogation table, right where she was placed hours ago when Lin's metalbenders brought her in. Her hands are chained to the table to stop her bending, and she's surrounded on all sides by windowless metal walls, but she doesn't look like a prisoner. She looks relaxed, almost bored. There's not a tattoo on her, but everything about her – from her lazy posture to the half-smile playing on her wide mouth – screams Triad.

She's dressed like a grunt, like Triad muscle, in a loose dark shirt and pants, well suited for hiding weaponry. She's strong like Triad muscle, too: she incapacitated three cops before the team managed to take her down, and Lin can see the hard muscle in her arms, the steady strength in her clasped fingers. But Triad grunts aren't smart. They're stupid bullies, cannon fodder for the higher ups to use in turf wars. This girl is, by all accounts, tricky. Smart enough to run rings around some of the city's best.

This girl is someone important. Lin intends to find out who.

As Lin enters, the girl looks up at her with bright, assessing eyes. Blue eyes, dark skin. This one looks water tribe through and through. Strange then, that she's a firebender. But this is Republic City, the great melting pot, and Lin has seen stranger.

Lin stares at the girl, unblinking, staring her down. The girl stares back.

"You're Chief Bei Fong," the girl says. Her half-smile widens. "Chief Lin Bei Fong. It's so good to finally meet you."

"Cut the pleasantries," Lin snaps, slamming one hand down heavily on the table. The girl doesn't flinch. "You've wasted enough time already. So let's get to the point of this tiresome business: You were found trying to burn down a bookstore in Dragon Flats. I want your name, I want the names of your accomplices, and I want to know why. And believe me, girl, we're not leaving here until you tell. Me. Everything."

For a moment the girl says nothing. Then she says, sweet as sugar, "I told your pals, Chief. I didn't have any accomplices."

"Bullshit. Your kind don't work alone."

The girl laughs. Bright and almost startled.

"Oh Chief, believe me, I'm one of a kind."

"Wonderful. You're arrogant too," Lin says dryly. "This is my lucky day."

"It's not arrogance if it's true," says the girl. "I'm a big girl, Chief. I take care of myself. There's no one else."

Lin leans in close, close enough to make out the individual lashes surrounding the girl's bright eyes, the unconscious flutter of her eyelids. That's her tell. She's lying. The girl wasn't working alone, but she wants to protect her accomplices. Desperately.

So. Time for a new plan of attack.

"Tell me who you are, and maybe I'll convince myself to believe you," Lin says. She doesn't pull back; stays in close and intimidating, so the girl can feel the weight of Lin's shadow, the brush of Lin's breath against her skin.

The girl stays relaxed. Breathes slow and even.

"It's the truth," the girl insists.

"It could be true," Lin agrees. "Tell me who you are."

The girl is stubbornly silent.

"Fine," says Lin, eventually. Her voice is like flint. "I'll send men back to Dragon Flats. They'll ask questions. Someone will talk eventually, with the right persuasion."

"No one will talk," says the girl. Her voice is deceptively soft; deep and dangerous waters. She leans closer, too, fingers curling in her chains.

"Why?" asks Lin.

"Why what?"

"Don't be dense," snaps Lin. "Why won't they talk?"

"They won't talk because there's nothing else to tell," says the girl. Lin can feel the girl's breath: cool, cooler than a firebender's should be. It makes her skin prickle.

"You mean they'll be too afraid to talk," says Lin softly.

"I didn't say that."

"Oh, but you meant it," Lin murmurs. "You think I got to my position by wilfully misunderstanding thugs like you, girl? No. You think your reputation will keep your friends safe. And maybe you're right. But that tells me something about you that you'd have done well to keep secret."

The girl says nothing. Her breath goes shallow.

"It tells me you're a prize," Lin says. "And that I'm going to need to keep you locked up for a long, long time."

For a second Lin thinks the girl will finally flinch from her and crumble. There is a moment of hesitation, as the girl blinks hard, as she twists her wrists in their cuffs – then the girl darts forward, straining against her chains. She's going to headbutt me, thinks Lin, resigned. It's no worse than she's had many times before, and though she'll feel like a fool for making herself vulnerable to a chained thug, she'll damn well live with it.

The table trembles. The chains snap.

It's the shock of it that makes her freeze, makes her vulnerable. No firebender should be able to break those chains. Not many earthbenders either. But the girl broke the chains, snapped them clean in half, and as she leaps across the table and slams Lin to the floor, the chains wind free from her arms as sinuously as serpents.

The girl's grin is sharp and just a little smug.

"You can try to lock me up," she said. "Go on. I dare you."

Lin doesn't let herself think. She uses the force of the metal all over her flesh and the floor to slam the girl clean through the air. The girl hits the other wall with a hard thud, but then she's up again like a shot, sending a burst of fire at Lin that Lin deflects with practiced ease. But the fire keeps coming: licks of pure flame that slash through the air, winding free from the girl's fingertips. The metal on Lin's skin heats. This room isn't made for a fight; certainly not a fire fight. If the girl keeps using fire, it'll soon turn into a furnace. That would be death of both of them.

The girl must come to the same realisation, because for her next attack she uses the pure force of her body to ram Lin into the opposite wall. Lin isn't so easily surprised this time. She retaliates by knocking the girl's feet out from under her, and they both collapse to the floor in an ungainly tangle. When Lin tries to get back to her feet, the girl pins her, hard and fast. Strong, the girl's strong, and it feels like even the blood in Lin's veins freezes into stillness under her hands.

Bloodbending. But no, it can't be possible. It can't.

"I don't really want to hurt you," breathes the girl. There's a cut on her forehead, bleeding steadily. She bites her lip, then licks away the soreness. Her pupils are dilated, her breathing shallow. Adrenaline from the fight, thinks Lin. After all, the girl can't possibly be –

"In fact, I can think of way better things to do. Shame you wouldn't be interested," the girl murmurs, ghost of a smile on her lips.

- apparently she can.

"You find this a turn on?" Lin hisses incredulously, forcing the words from numb lips.

"A little," admits the girl, quite unashamed. "I like the fighting, the danger. Don't you?"

"No," forces out Lin.

"Liar," says the girl. Then, urgently: "Close your eyes. Now."

Lin hears the shouts before she hears the explosion.

The girl's body shields her from the worst of it. The curling heat of metal; the flying debris. The explosion at least explains why none of the other cops came to her aid when the girl first broke free. They were clearly otherwise occupied. She tries not to think of Captain Saikhan, or Bao, or the rookies who would have been caught unawares over their game of pusoy. Her metalbenders are tough. They can take of themselves.

There's the sound of footsteps. Strangers in headquarters; Triad swarming where Triad don't belong.

I'll bring you to justice for this, thinks Lin. She swears it.

That's a promise.

The girl touches Lin cheek, following the sharp slant of the cheekbone, the rough furrows of her scars. Her touch is oddly gentle, as if she's trying to see Lin's face with her fingertips, learn its contours, its flaws, its secrets.

"My name is Korra," says the girl quietly; like she's sharing a treasure, something precious and fragile. "It was nice to meet you, Chief. Maybe I'll see you again someday, huh?"

And then just like that she's gone, leaving nothing but smoke and chaos behind her.