Con Artist, Analysist and the Scheming Li Koa

The sun was setting.

Dan sat by the window, watching the sky go from a vibrant blue to a dark red. The lights of the city reflected in his eyes, making them glow like rubies. He didn't turn around as Chris walked into the room and plopped down on the bed, feet still on the floor. "Alright, we've got no where else to go," he sighed. "So what do you want me to do?"

Dan shook his head, not looking at him. "I don't know." He sighed himself, fidgeting with his fingers. "Something stupid," he murmured. "Stupid enough that Li won't think it's worth it."

Chris snorted. "Well, he has been stumped so far," he conceded. "For all of our acting ability, I never would've thought you'd be able to get us this far." He smiled lightly. "You were great in those movies."

"Thanks," Dan said quietly, still staring out the window. His smile was bitter and small; he turned away and looked down at his hands again. His knuckles were bruised and scabbed over; they had been bleeding when they first got here, but now all that was left were dry blood stains and some ugly-looking scrapes and cuts. He tried to hide them in his sleeves, but it wasn't working very well anymore - even though he'd been here for almost a year, his clothes were starting to feel loose around him; all the exercise and running had made him lose weight, and now everything hung off him like rags on a scarecrow. He wondered if he could find somewhere to sneak off to when night fell; there had to be somewhere in this building that didn't have cameras or guards watching it. There had to be something he could do...

The idea hit him like a punch in the gut: escape. He glanced back over at Chris - he had put his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes tight against the overhead lights, pretending to sleep already - and held onto that idea desperately as other ideas - escape how? where would you go? what would you eat? how would you survive? - plagued him until they faded away into nothingness as soon as they popped up into his mind. No matter what happened, he just had to get out of here...

He would find a way out before tomorrow night; there just had to be something...