Jeanette Murchadha (4)

New York City, NY

Jeanette couldn't believe her eyes. Over the twenty minute video, she hacked and slashed every one of her colleagues, blood spattered all over the walls, floor and ceiling. She watched herself murder her friends and associates. Yet, she had no memory of doing so. Could the stress have gotten to her and she had a mental break? She was terribly confused and panicked. "D-d-did I... really do... That?" she asked the driver.

"Nah," the kind eyed man said. "That was my partner. She also has one of these," he held up his watch. Jeanette stared at him, she got what he was saying, but it just couldn't compute in her brain. "Oh, that's her," he said, getting out of the car and opening the door for Jeanette. She was in such a shock that she just sat on the seat until he roughly pulled her from the taxi. She looked up and saw a beat up old blue chevy coming down the road towards them. She was about to face the woman that killed all of her friends and business partners, and all she could see was her own bloodied face in the tablet.

I drove up to the spot, parking the chevy next to my partner, who had Jeanette Murchadha by her arm. Her shocked look told me she saw something she wasn't supposed to.

"Damn it, Hades," I said as soon as I slammed the truck door closed, "Can't you follow protocol?"

"What?" He asked, like it was no big deal. "It's not like she's gonna live to tell anyone. Even if she did, how would she explain it, who would believe her?"

"Still. You can explain it to the boss," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "He will be so happy to learn you broke protocol. He still wants her questioned and how do you expect him to do that when she's looking like she just saw a ghost?"

"They'll be able to get it out of her. They're professionals." My partner and I continued our chat about the woman we framed and kidnapped as we walked into the building. We opened the door to the small place, and were immediately greeted by a man in a black suit.

"Tongues," he ordered, holding a blue light as he scanned first my partner's tongue, and then mine. Our little tattoos on the underside lit up, identifying us as part of the Association. When he got to the shorter woman in the middle, my partner interrupted.

"She's been requested for questioning. Name is Jeanette Murchadha," the man grumbled a bit and let us through the door at the back of the room that immediately greeted us with stairs. "Let's go," my partner told the woman, motioning for her to go first. She trembled, which was met by a slight push.