Death Warrant by Bryan Johnston

Author:Bryan Johnston [Johnston, Bryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CamCat Publishing

CHAPTER 20

THE CHAT WITH MYRNA

“If you are chosen, how would you like to go out?” asks Myrna.

“In my sleep when I’m ninety-five in my oceanside mansion with my twenty-five-year-old lover by my side.”

“Funny, same here,” says Myrna without missing a beat. The woman’s good.

“I thought we didn’t get to choose.”

“You don’t. But it gives us another peek into your head. Helps us see what makes you tick. And believe it or not, we do take some of your thoughts into consideration.”

“It’s not like I’m going to remember anyway, right?”

“Correct,” says Myrna. “You’d be surprised how much of the groundwork is laid just from this meeting.”

“Some algorithm looking for key words and phrases to help determine the optimum method of termination?”

“Something like that. It’s necessary to help speed up the process. We have a creative team that makes the final call, but the data from this meeting weighs heavily in the decision.”

I’m tempted to screw with them, offer some ridiculous suggestion like being sucked out of a commuter flight and falling thirty thousand feet to my death. That would be cool. Instead, I give them the truth. They can take it as they may.

“In that case, something big and theatrical. If I’m going to go out, the least I can do is give your viewers a show. Couldn’t hurt your ratings either.”

“Which would translate to higher advertising revenue for your dependent.”

“The thought occurred to me,” I say. “But doesn’t everyone want that? A splashy job that will draw more eyeballs?”

“Not as much as you might think,” she says. “Most want to get it over with. Quick and painless.”

“In our look-at-me social media-driven society? That surprises me.”

“Me too,” says Myrna. “I guess when push comes to shove, more people opt for a touch of dignity.”

“Unlike me,” I say with a grin.

Myrna matches the grin. “Unlike you. But you’re a professional performer. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

I sit forward again. “I want you to tell your crack team of killers to fire up their imagination. I want them up late, burning the candle at both ends coming up with something that will knock viewers for a loop.” I look up at the ceiling. “Hear that, boys?” I shout. “Are your ears burning? Round up your best and brightest and start stoking their creative fires.”

Myrna takes in my outburst with a chuckle. “You are a rare gem, Frankie.”

“You know something,” I say. “When I was eighteen, I had a dream that I would die in some grand and glorious fashion. Who does that? When you’re eighteen you don’t think of dying. You think you’re bulletproof, indestructible.” I cock my head and shrug. “Well, when you’re eighteen you’re kind of stupid.”

“I’ve had teenagers. I can’t disagree,” says Myrna the wise.

“Hey, question,” I say. “Do you ever use people the target knows to kill them?”

“Interesting and insightful question,” Myrna says with arched eyebrows. “We have been known to introduce people into the target’s life.”

“Like a sleeper cell,” I say.

“Very much so.”

“They gain the target’s trust only for that target to die at their hands hours, days or months later? Harsh.

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