Page 138 of Agency
“Shit! Sorry!” The way she now tossed them aside, her earbuds might as well have suddenly become a potato heated to three-hundred degrees, plus. “Sorry!” Her eyes went back to mine. “Don’t hurt me, okay? Okay?”
“You the only one down here?” I snapped as I went around the desk, putting her between me and the door before sweeping my weapon over the rest of the room. There was another hallway that led off from here. Going straight down and out of sight, the hall intersected with another that went around the corner at a perpendicular angle.
“O-o-o-o-only one.”
“You’re sure?”
“J-j-j-just me.”
“Good.”
My eyes went to the computer monitors. Green and white server text against a black screen on the left. Server files in a basic window to the right, folder icons spread everywhere. A chat window dominated the central screen, and there was some kind of picture in the middle. An anthropomorphic fox with red fur and… wearing lingerie. My eyes flickered own to the words typed below the image, read something involving belly rubs, paws, andthingsI didn’t care to know too much aboutever, and then snapped back to the other screens.
Okay. That was just weird. Not any weirder than what I was into, I guess. But, still, kind of weird. Not that I wanted to have that conversation with anyone at the moment, especially not my hostage. After all, she was already about to have the worst day of her working life. No need to make things any more uncomfortable.
The IT girl glanced up to my face. “Sorry.” She must have seen where my eyes were directed, and my confusion at what was on the screen, because she went to reach for the keyboard.
“No,” I growled. “Hands stay.”
“But—”
“Damage is done, and I already think you’re weird. Let’s not make this whole interaction worse, Foxy Brown.”
“Oh.” She must have registered my fox comment after speaking, because she immediately sagged in her seat. “Oh.”
“Sorry. That was mean. Don’t want to kink shame.”
“Yeah. Kind of was. Thanks for yucking my yum.”
“I said ‘sorry.’” I paused to swallow. “Any weapons?”
“Just… Just a gun. A gun they gave me! One I didn’t even want!”
“Where?”
“This desk drawer.” She went to reach for the indicated drawer, but I barked an order for her to stop. Her hand halted and hovered right in front of the handle.
“Leave it. Draw your hand back, put it above your head with the other one.”
“Yes.” She followed my order. “Okay.” Her shaking hands were both raised, now.
“Clasp them behind your head.”
“Look,” she continued, now with an added sniffle as if she were trying to hold back tears, “I’m just working this weird ass job because they promised me a whole bunch of money to pay off my student loans. You know that, right? I stay down here and write smutty fan fiction, and occasionally message back and forth with guys about sex.” She paused. “Okay, more than just occasionally.”
“Uh-huh. I get it.”
“It’s weird, okay, I understand that. But, like, it’s just what’s going on. I get bored down here, and it’s not like there’s a lot of guys in town who are really my type.”
“It’s okay, I believe you. No need to make this any weirder than it already is.” Inside the drawer I found a little 9mm with a three-inch barrel, and six-inch total body. The weapon was loaded but not chambered, and I stuffed the pistol away in one of my many pockets after making sure the safety was engaged.
“Any others? Any other weapons?”
“N-n-n-n-no.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She swallowed hard, and I could see the way her eyes shifted, all wild and crazy like an animal going off to slaughter. She’d have told me, I knew. She was terrified. She’d do anything, or follow any order, to stay alive. She wasn’t some kind of zealot.
