Chapter 2: A Form Of Catharsis

Enhle

It was a form of catharsis fueled by unwavering fury and life-long trauma. Nothing more, nothing less. What I did was neither brave nor profound. It was primitive. Something I should have no solace in committing. Something I could have left to the authorities. Something that would have been beneath me. If God hadn’t tested my faith in the way He did, my life was bound to have been a lot less riddled with “Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda” proclamations. Yet here I was dodging rapid bullet fire in a top-end corporate office. The merc-for-hire body guards packed some serious heat.

“Any time now would be ideal babe!” I yelled, whilst crouched behind an ever thinning bullet-abused office column.

“You should’ve thought about that before sashaying straight into the eye of the storm!” Marcellus replied, emerging straight from the shadows as his Katana went to work.

Fanciful footwork and swift sword play made quick work against most of the body guards. Blood and cybernetics oil splashing about like a Jackson Pollock painting. I tried my damned hardest to hold back a smile. 

Tonight’s garbage disposal operation involved your typical trust-fund wretch that thought she knew better than the parents that gifted her a once reputable multi-billionaire dollar company. Arm’s Dealers was a relatively young corporation that specialised in manufacturing high-quality cyber prosthetics at unbelievably cheap prices. Turns out the owners had no villainous, mustache-twirling angle they were working. Adrina and Zander Moloch were your regular, once-in-a-lifetime billionaires that found joy in maximising people-helping rather than profit margins. God duly blessed them with both. Satan cursed them with a less than philanthropic daughter. Yolanda Moloch, once charged with her family’s company, thought it’d be in the “business’ interest” to essentially cut corners to amplify her already large-than-life inheritance.

Arm’s Dealers products were soon laden with lawsuit after lawsuit after Yolanda’s ascension. Investigations unfurled a slew of issues ranging from cheap materials to grossly incompetent wiring. What was meant to lead to the lives of the handicapped being able to function independently led to grievous bodily harm. Or death in the worst of cases. Yolanda being the forward thinker she was, was able to bribe her way out of any responsibility well prior to her taking over the company. The court cases that would never come, the charges that could never be laid and all because a fist full of politicians saw dollar signs that just couldn’t be ignored. Much like the request Marcellus and I received on the Avenging Angels hotline.

“Six, seven, eight.’ I count nonchalantly, as my Uzi gunned down the remaining guards that huddled over in pain from their severed cybernetic arms.

“Oh no, you get no credit for those kills. I did all the leg work.” Marcellus chastised, as he wiped the liquid mess from his Katana on a dead guard’s clothing.

He’d always enjoyed taking a stealthier role in our missions. According to him it made for a bigger splash. And boy did it.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll argue about who gets glory later. Now, where’s tonight's Bid Bad?” I ask loudly.

“Maybe she took a few days off from work.” Marcellus responded. “This section of the office is in dire need of renovations after all.”

Almost too quickly, a shifting figure lunged from one of the overturned tables, gun in hand, milliseconds from firing. I clip them right in the hand before we could join the corpses on the floor. It was Yolanda. Drenched in dirt and sweat, cradling her bullet prodded hand. That pretty power suit of hers was something that not even dry-cleaning could take care of.

“Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?!” Yolanda commandingly asked. Her eyes, awkwardly fluttering, soon stared with a penance that could set fire to entire cities.

“That’s why we’re here. You’ve been a naughty girl and all naughty children ought to be punished.” Marcellus answered. He continued, “Think of this as the world returning the venom you’ve spat out.”

“The police and prosecutors have less than zilch to my name.”

“Objectively true. But you and I know both know why that is. Bribery goes a long way. Especially when faulty cybernetics lead to 3rd degree burns, paralysis. Or sometimes worse.”

She gave a Cheshire cat-like grin before replying, “Sounds like problems that have no ties leading back to me. Those people were well compensated. And the people actually responsible were subsequently charged for their egregious mistakes.”

She referred to the poor fall guys that she saddled the blame with. Ordinary, hardworking employees who had their entire lives up ended by the personification of evil. Once these workers were charged for a litany of phony crimes, they’d all allegedly committed suicide. The proud work of Yolanda. The risk of them actually being found not guilty was too high, so she found it fitting to play judge, jury and executioner. She’d never admit to it of course.

“Okay, the bitch dies. Now.” I said, feeling any and all patience I had fleeting away as anger took ahold of me. I aimed my gun at Yolanda, preparing for killshot, only for Yolanda release a maniacal cackle.

“You two aren’t very bright huh? You honestly think I wouldn’t have an insurance policy?! I Morse-coded the entire building to explode the minute you took down my last man. My cyber optic eye implants do more than shift colour. This entire building has been wired to my heart beat. If I stop breathing, then so do you!” Yolanda wickedly proclaimed. She’d prepared for this day. Smart. 

“You really thought out everything, didn’t you?” I prodded sarcastically, with a round of applause to match. I continued, “Pity that brain of yours valued greed over charity.”

“This brain was clever enough to think of a fail-safe. Yours? Not so much. Now, either let me go or you get buried with me and all the collateral that I'll drag to hell with me.”

“You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? Ever wonder how we got in here relatively undetected?”

“Congratulations, you pooled enough of your pitiful life's savings to hire some second-rate hacker to bypass my security. Not really an impressive feat compared to mine.”

“You’re a far cry from your parents. You know, the same people who would have more than enough money to hire us.”

Yolanda’s grin quickly dropped after that revelation. That got her attention.

Marcellus proceeded to explain, “Parents finding disappointment in their children’s unpalatable actions is a tale as old as time. Unavoidable. But your actions took the cake. Enough they'd resort to the Avenging Angels hotlines. Isn’t that right, mom and dad?” With that question, Marcellus dropped a Holodisc that screened live-feed holograms of the pain-stricken Molochs. They’d clearly heard enough.

“We tried our best to raise you in a positive environment. We gave you everything you could ask for. This is how you repaid us.” croaked Adrina Moloch, gesturing towards the dead bodyguards. She’d clearly been crying. It’s not every day you put the final nail in your daughter’s coffin.

“We asked, no, we begged you to come clean and face the consequences of your actions yet you chose this.” added Zander Moloch.

“I was putting the company first! I did this for the family!” shrieked Yolanda. She continued. “You pass judgment on me yet here you are sending hitmen after me. You still failed. Unless you both desire rubble sized collateral damage.” She smirked.

“Your mother and I built this company from the ground up. Do you honestly think we still had no structural control over it?! Especially after the mess you created?!” spat out Zander, clearly done with the conversation.

“You didn’t set off a company-wide bomb dear, you set off an incendiary clean-up function that will only kill whoever is in this room. Our final gift to you,” added Adrina. She continued, “Enhle and Marcellus, it’d be in your best interests to leave this room before the containment force fields close you in. We thank you.”

We needed no further instruction as we walked out of the once deluxe office as it encased itself in nanotech powered pulsar force fields. The recently built-in incendiary devices proceeded to torch the room. The ensuing screams begging for mercy were difficult to bear. Witnessing the holographic images of Yolanda’s heartbroken parents watching her cremate before their eyes was even harder to stomach. The Holodisc soon burnt away with Yolanda. Time to head home. What a way to end date night.