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Chapter 10: Risk Management Exercise

  The tip of my gun aimed at the detective's head.

  Barbara yells, echoing from one corner away.

  Step one, blind her.

  "If I were you, I would pick your next words wisely," I said.

  She stared down the gun, her shoulders loosening. Her posture relaxed.

  My fingers shook, my teeth gnashed.

  Step two...

  The trigger itched, the solid weight of the gun, just enough to knock someone out with. Just enough to dispose of a threat.

  "I'm warning you," I said, "this won't benefit either of us."

  "I know", she said.

  My grip tightened.

  But she just frowned.

  "I followed your career, Mr Grayson. Job after job, hopping right after each workplace accident. It's quite the pattern."

  She took a step right in front of the barrel, her visor close enough to shatter. Close enough to be permanently blinded.

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  "But this job is different, isn't it?" It took 9 years. 9 years without any 'accidents'"

  She put her face, nose to gun, staring right at me, calm, relaxed and silent.

  "What if I could make those accidents go away?" she whispered. "What if we struck a deal?"

  I hesitated, my finger unable to squeeze the trigger. I shouldn't listen; I should remove her. I-

  But a twist clenched my gut, a feeling that told me not to.

  What if I could use this?

  So reluctantly, I lowered my gun.

  "What kind of deal?"

  She lifted her mask up, her protection flapping in the wind, her tired eyes meeting his.

  "I want an inside man," she said.

  "You want a whistle-blower," I replied.

  She narrowed her gaze.

  "I want justice."

  This time, I lifted my mask, the crisp air biting my skin.

  "Even I understand that taking down a giant involves risking those beneath it."

  She paused, lips pressed into a line.

  “Is that a no?”

  I sighed and leaned in. I smelled the coffee on her breath, the hint of old shampoo lingering longer than intended.

  Her police work must have been busy. Gruelling like a day at the office. Just another cog that wanted freedom, another pawn in some executive's palm. Politicians and CEOs? What was the difference?

  I was close enough to press nose to nose.

  “If you want to bring this company down," I started, "I want immunity.”

  Then wailing around the maze, Barbara arrived.

  But I didn't withdraw my stare.

  Amy's lip biting.

  “Are you making out!” Barbara said, "Why don't you two have masks on?"

  “We're strategising," Amy said, “I think I could work on a plan.”

  She gave me a glance, half glare, half sigh.

  Then her mask clicked on.

  "Fine," she said.

  "What?" Barbara added, "We are not fine! We're outnumbered."

  I pressed my mask down.

  Amy cocked her gun.

  I would make sure she signs a contract.

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