stop them working out what's going on. But I'm not taking responsibility for this if it goes to shit. There's only so much I can do."
The white camera was still trained on Marie when she started on her left shoe. After shaking it, she then up-ended the thing, screwing her nose up at the slight funk coming from it. After looking inside, she slipped it back on her foot and wafted the air with her hand. The smell wasn't terrible, but it was enough to make her self-conscious should anyone else walk in.
"Yes, Monty, they know about us terminating prisoners. We pretend they don't to the employees, but what the fuck do they know? The government don't care about a few casualties."
If Marie were any further away, she wouldn't have heard what Doug said next, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"But they can't find out about this. We're taking money from them. Fraud is much more serious than the death of a few estate rats."
Fraud! It was hard to hide her reaction with the camera watching on, but Marie did her best as she listened to Doug walk away down the corridor.
A quick check of her other shoe and she then slipped it back on. She had Doug over a barrel now. Fraud was a serious crime. If he had to take one of the girls with him, wherever it was, she was going to make sure she was that girl. Since wearing the corset, Doug saw her as a pair of tits and nothing else. He was blinded by his lust for her and she was going to use that to her advantage. Frankie may have some other work in the pipeline, but if this was as serious as it sounded… well, twenty-five thousand credits for a marriage certificate would be a price worth paying Marie to keep quiet.
The very start of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but Marie kept it suppressed. She got to her feet and glanced up at the watchful camera. It continued to stare back. She then turned to the door and pressed her finger against the scanner next to it. The light above it turned green.
She fucking had him.
Chapter Thirteen
The high-pitched screams sent shooting pains through Marie's ears, driving her shoulders up to her neck. Disorientated by the sound, she flapped around at her console to lower the volume of her headphones.
The sharp acceleration of her pulse had stolen her breath. Pulling it back, she stared at the muted images. The child in front of her was no more than six years old. She was covered in blood and crying for her mummy.
Why did she ever take the 'promotion' to the control room? The wage increase seemed pitiful once she saw what she had to endure. A few hundred extra credits a month didn't compensate for the nightmares.
It was hard to control the shake running through her limbs as she tapped away at the keyboard. All she needed to do was pull up the lunatic's identity, confirm it was him, and move on. But to do that, she had to look at the screen.
The shot panned out. The little girl was crouched over a decapitated lady. The woman was naked save for a scarf of her own entrails.
Hot saliva ran down the back of Marie's throat and she gulped several times. Would she ever desensitise to the violence?
All she needed was one image of the guy to cross-reference and then she could get rid of the projection.
Before she brought his details up, the shot panned out farther to show the door to the room being kicked in. Seconds later, a man burst through, bare-chested and as covered in claret as the little girl. The head of what must have been the girl's mother was hanging from his grip, his bloody fingers entangled in her dark hair. Beneath his shirt of blood was a shirt of ink. The man was heavily tattooed.
When the girl turned to look at him, she covered her mouth and the man's face opened in what Marie could only assume was a laugh. She wasn't curious enough to turn the volume back up. When she finally got a clear shot of the man's face—a spiderweb tattooed across it—she identified him.
Before she could move the screen on, a heavy
The white camera was still trained on Marie when she started on her left shoe. After shaking it, she then up-ended the thing, screwing her nose up at the slight funk coming from it. After looking inside, she slipped it back on her foot and wafted the air with her hand. The smell wasn't terrible, but it was enough to make her self-conscious should anyone else walk in.
"Yes, Monty, they know about us terminating prisoners. We pretend they don't to the employees, but what the fuck do they know? The government don't care about a few casualties."
If Marie were any further away, she wouldn't have heard what Doug said next, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"But they can't find out about this. We're taking money from them. Fraud is much more serious than the death of a few estate rats."
Fraud! It was hard to hide her reaction with the camera watching on, but Marie did her best as she listened to Doug walk away down the corridor.
A quick check of her other shoe and she then slipped it back on. She had Doug over a barrel now. Fraud was a serious crime. If he had to take one of the girls with him, wherever it was, she was going to make sure she was that girl. Since wearing the corset, Doug saw her as a pair of tits and nothing else. He was blinded by his lust for her and she was going to use that to her advantage. Frankie may have some other work in the pipeline, but if this was as serious as it sounded… well, twenty-five thousand credits for a marriage certificate would be a price worth paying Marie to keep quiet.
The very start of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but Marie kept it suppressed. She got to her feet and glanced up at the watchful camera. It continued to stare back. She then turned to the door and pressed her finger against the scanner next to it. The light above it turned green.
She fucking had him.
Chapter Thirteen
The high-pitched screams sent shooting pains through Marie's ears, driving her shoulders up to her neck. Disorientated by the sound, she flapped around at her console to lower the volume of her headphones.
The sharp acceleration of her pulse had stolen her breath. Pulling it back, she stared at the muted images. The child in front of her was no more than six years old. She was covered in blood and crying for her mummy.
Why did she ever take the 'promotion' to the control room? The wage increase seemed pitiful once she saw what she had to endure. A few hundred extra credits a month didn't compensate for the nightmares.
It was hard to control the shake running through her limbs as she tapped away at the keyboard. All she needed to do was pull up the lunatic's identity, confirm it was him, and move on. But to do that, she had to look at the screen.
The shot panned out. The little girl was crouched over a decapitated lady. The woman was naked save for a scarf of her own entrails.
Hot saliva ran down the back of Marie's throat and she gulped several times. Would she ever desensitise to the violence?
All she needed was one image of the guy to cross-reference and then she could get rid of the projection.
Before she brought his details up, the shot panned out farther to show the door to the room being kicked in. Seconds later, a man burst through, bare-chested and as covered in claret as the little girl. The head of what must have been the girl's mother was hanging from his grip, his bloody fingers entangled in her dark hair. Beneath his shirt of blood was a shirt of ink. The man was heavily tattooed.
When the girl turned to look at him, she covered her mouth and the man's face opened in what Marie could only assume was a laugh. She wasn't curious enough to turn the volume back up. When she finally got a clear shot of the man's face—a spiderweb tattooed across it—she identified him.
Before she could move the screen on, a heavy
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