Chapter Text
“This is boring,” Nathan said.
“What were you expecting?” Charles raised an eyebrow as they watched the klokateers pull body after body after body out of the warehouse.
“For them to be alive.”
“It is a setback.”
“How? Looks like they did your job for you.”
“Harsh,” Charles sighed. “Also mistaken. They have made things more complicated.” He took another deep breath when Nathan gave him a scathing look. “First off, they’ve proven that we have an information leak; someone either told them we were coming, or they have the haus bugged. Second, this is not all of them.”
“Sure, is a lot of em.” Nathan watched as the body removal continued.
“Yes, but I highly doubt that the head is in there.” Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is looking more and more like a cult, and mass suicide rarely includes everyone.”
“I thought that was the point of mass-” Nathan started, but was interrupted by several klokateers who were dragging a very much alive body out of the warehouse.
“Ahh, yes.” The satisfaction in Charles’s voice made the hairs on Nathan’s arms stand up. “That’s better.”
“Found this one trying to get out through the basement,” a nameless klokateer said.
“Perfect, take him home, keep a constant watch on him.” The man’s eyes widened at Charles’ words. “I want him alive when I talk to him.” As the klockateers dragged the man away, Nathan lunged forward and punched him. The man instantly sagged and was carried onto a helicopter. Charles turned to stare at Nathan.
“Aint gonna do anything, now is he?” Nathan said. Charles continued to stare for a long moment before he cracked a smile and nodded.
“Hard to when you just knocked him unconscious.”
Nathan rubbed his knuckles. The skin on his hands was healing, but was not ready for him to punch people.
“I need a beer.” Beer numbed the pain. “At least ten beers.”
“There’s some in the helicopter.”
***
Nathan had never seen one of the ‘inventive information retrieval’ rooms before. It didn’t look like what he expected. He was expecting dark, maybe a wooden chair, cattle prods and shit on the walls. But this room looked… mechanical. There was a big machine in the centre of the room and the guy was fastened into it.
“Not what I was expecting,” Nathan said when Charles raised an eyebrow at him.
“We’ve come a long way in information retrieval.” Charles sounded like a man discussing the weather. “One of the advantages we have found with this method is that machines do not tire. Men tire blows become softer, less effective. Machines, well, machines are always running at maximum capacity.”
“I can still punch him, though?”
“I wouldn’t. The machine runs high voltage electricity through him. You could get shocked.”
“Oh.” Nathan put his beer down and cracked his knuckles. “It’s not on yet though?” Charles shook his head.
“Dr Rockso spent some time here a while back.” Charles’ voice took on a warm tone.
“Really?”
“A simple beating wasn’t effective, and he is a bad influence on Toki.” Charles shrugged, like admitting to torturing a man was an everyday occurrence. Nathan snorted a laugh.
“Fucking hate clowns,” he grumbled.
“He called me an angel.” Charles shivered. “I’d be pleased not to see him here again.”
“Else you’ll put him back in here?” Charles shook his head.
“No, if he comes back, then this was not effective and a more permanent solution will have to be found.”
“You make it sound normal,” Nathan said. Charles frowned, confusion on his face. “It is normal?” Nathan noticed the camera in the corner of the room. “Hey, you filming this?”
“It’s a wise precaution. It ensures information is not lost.”
“Did you film Rockso?”
“Not intentionally, but the cameras are always on in here.”
“Cool,” Nathan grinned. “I just got an idea for a song. That footage will make a great music video.” Charles smiled and shook his head like a disapproving parent.
“I’ll get it looked out for you. But please, censor or cut the last few minutes.”
“Don’t want the world knowing the clown thinks you’re an angel?”
“Perish the thought.” Charles turned to look at the klokateer waiting patiently by the controls. “You can start now.” The machine came to life. Lightning dancing over the front, the man started to scream.
Nathan sighed, disappointed.
“You’re not going to do it?” Nathan said. Charles blinked at him.
“I have staff.” He gestured to the klokateer. Nathan sighed. “We pay people to do this for us.” Nathan sighed again, louder. “You’re putting them out of their job.” Nathan sighed very loudly and slumped against the wall. The man continued to scream. The klokateer turned the machine off.
“I can show you the controls, sire,” she said. Her voice was young, more Sweet Valley High than an experienced torturer.
“Cool.” Nathan stepped forward.
“This is what makes the machine active.” Small hands pointed to a large green button. “This dial controls the voltage, and this one controls the distance between the subject and the machine.”
Nathan spun the dial-up to the maximum and hit the green button. The man screamed again.
“Stop!” Charles’ sharp elbows jabbed Nathan’s stomach as the CFO shoved his way in front of the booth. Nathan stepped back. “You can’t start there.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll leave yourself nowhere to go.” Charles turned to face the klokateer. “You can leave us.” Nathan grinned as the woman left.
“Come on then, chop chop.” He nudged Charles, who sighed loudly and muttered something under his breath about fetishes.
“Very well.” He turned down the voltage and moved the man further away from the machine. “We’ll start at ten percent.” The machine whirred to life, and the screaming started. “Ten percent for ten seconds. How’s that?”
“Boring.” Nathan grinned.
“You realise this isn’t meant to be for fun. This is a purposeful act.”
“It’s supposed to be brutal.” Nathan nudged the CFO.
“But you don’t start at a high level.” Charles pinched his nose as was becoming his habit. “You build up to it. Anticipation is key.”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask questions?” Nathan said as the machine wound down.
“I’ll not tell you anything,” the man wheezed. Charles grinned.
“See, now we can increase voltage and duration, or just voltage or just duration. Lots of choice.”
“Awesome,” Nathan watched as the CFO adjusted the dials with precision and turned the machine on again. His tone, however, gave away his disappointment.
“You were expecting perhaps me to take his fingernails off?” Charles said as the screaming continued. Nathan paused for a moment, thinking about that, Charles with pliers, blood on his hands.
“That would be cool,” he said.
“That would be primitive.”
“I just thought…” Nathan trailed off.
“You were expecting a more personal touch.” Charles nodded. “Well, you may get your wish. If his will holds out, we may have to try a different tack.”
***
That different tack came after 30 minutes.
“It’s not working.” Nathan was unable to keep the glee out of his voice. “Maybe he’s one of those guys who likes electricity?” Charles said nothing. He walked to the wall and pushed a pad Nathan hadn’t seen before. A panel on the wall slid back, revealing an array of tools.
“Very well.” Charles selected a set of pliers. He looked at Nathan. “But the band will accuse me of indulging you.”
Two hours later, Nathan was yelling at the guy.
“You’re going to betray your bosses?”
The man nodded. He was bruised and bloody; he had two fingernails left and one of his eyes was burned closed. Charles was taking a break. He’d long since lost his suit jacket, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he was splattered with a liberal coating of blood. Nathan had lost count of the beers he’d polished off and had made a mental note to get the recording of this session sent to him. In the last hour, he’d already decided that this afternoon would be the inspiration for the next couple of songs, maybe even an album.
Murder Manager, or perhaps Financial Stabber, he hadn’t decided yet.
His voice horse, Nathan, turned away, picked up another two beers out of the cooler the klokateers had dropped off and handed one to Charles, who was sweating profusely from the effort.
“First time I’ve seen you sweat.”
“My job is not usually as laborious as this.” Charles took a swig of the beer and pulling a disgusted face. “As I said, I usually pay people to do this for me.” Nathan smirked and walked to the wall cupboard and pulled down a hammer.
“He’s still got his knees.” He handed the hammer to Charles.
“He’s talking,” Charles said.
“I’ll talk,” the man whimpered. “I already said I’ll talk.”
“He might be lying,” Nathan said.
“You just want to watch me break his knees,” Charles muttered, though he sounded more amused than annoyed. Nathan tried to look hopeful and endearing, but failed miserably. How Nathan thought he could look endearing when asking another guy to hurt someone for kicks was beyond Charles. “You have a fetish.” Charles took the hammer, deciding to indulge Nathan, just this once. “If i break him you’ll find the next one.”
***
“Where have you been?” Pickles asked. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Huh?” Nathan slumped back onto the sofa, feeling exhausted but happy.
“You’ve not been hanging out with us for ages,” Toki said.
“You’re covered in…” Pickles sniffed loudly. “You’re covered in blood.”
“Did you feed the yard wolves?” Toki asked.
“No,” Nathan smiled. “I was helping Charles get some information out of the guys who attacked us a couple of weeks back.”
“Wait, you were helping, Offdensen?” Murderface frowned. “Don’t we pay him to do his job? Why are you doing it?”
“It was-” Nathan started.
“Yeah?” Toki said. “You can’t do Offdensen’s job. We were terrible at it last time.”
“I wasn’t doing his job.” Nathan accepted the beer Pickles handed him. “I was watching him do his job.”
“You watched him… what interview a guy?” Toki said.
“Looks like a brutal interview,” Pickles said. “He let you watch that?” Nathan grinned and held up a DVD.
“He gave me the DVD.” Nathan said. “Gonna use it in the next music video.”
“A movie! Put it on!” Toki said. Murderface snorted and Skwisgaar echoed Toki’s demand. Nathan paused for a moment. For one moment, he felt tight in his chest. He didn’t want them to see this. Murder-Charles was something for him… but that was ridiculous. Charles was their manager. He worked for the band. It wasn’t personal.
“Alright, but there’s no sound so… you just have to imagine.” Standing, he put the DVD into the television.
“How long is this movie?” Toki said.
“About three hours,” Nathan said.
Three hours later
“Um…” Toki said as the video stopped and the screen turned black. “That was… it was… scary. He wasn’t even mad.”
“Who?” Skwissgaar said. “Cause the guy looked pretty upset to me.”
“No,” Toki said. “Charles, he wasn’t mad or anything, he looked…”
“Sweaty,” Murderface muttered, apparently unaffected by the gratuitous violence he’d just witnessed.
“No, well, yes, but I meant his face. He looked the same way he does when he’s in meetings telling us numbers and beep boop beep stuff.”
“Robot,” Murderface said. “This proves it. Robots don’t have feelings.”
“Ninja robot,” Toki muttered. “Ninja robots are scary.”