You're the Boss Ma'am

Part 3

A buzz rang out as the doors opened, the expanse of the warehouse looking enormous compared to the exterior. I daintily stepped in and wore a sweet smile as Dawson pulled off his cabbie and rubbed his neck nervously. He seemed to pale at the two tall mutants flanking my sides.

"Da' boss iz' in his office, Madame... Should I tell 'im yer' here?" the grunt asked, his cigarette oozing sick-smelling smoke from his mouth as he spoke.

"I'm afraid your boss has lost the respect for a formal request, Dawson. This shouldn't be but a few minutes." I smiled with sweet poison.

Dawson backed away as we entered the administrative part of the warehouse, the door marked "Gunther" at the end of the hall. People quietly froze and watched as me and my boys walked to the door. I was nice enough to knock twice before walking in.

"CHARLEY, I TOLD YOU TO-"

"Gunther, I believe you know my proper title."

The man's face whitened slightly at the sight of me - and then he looked up and seemed to become white-washed.

"Boys, if you'd stand guard outside please. I'm afraid you're scaring my poor client - why don't you ask Dawson for the shipping logs and bring them to me."

Michael chuckled slightly as he followed his brother outside the door, one of the silhouettes stilling in silence as the other headed downstairs.

"Rayne, I told you once - I'll tell you again. I don't got the cash for you. The shipments have been running late for the past couple o' weeks and it's backed up the market." He seethed, lighting a cigar.

"I gave you an extra two. So either you're squirreling a secondary stash from me behind my back or, you've been purposefully holding back the shipments. Either of which will be detrimental to your career. So either fess up and hand over the money or we'll be chatting in the backroom for a good long while."

"I don't see why I can't save a little extra for the company, Rayne. You've obviously been busying yourself with your new toy freaks - and you need my money to pay for them..." Gunther grinned disgustingly.

Simply fantastic... so we have to do it the hard way...

I loosed a breath of annoyance as I looked at him.

"Gunther, I gave you this job - I can take it away just as quickly. Don't make me the bad guy."

The manager chuckled coldly.

"Alright, Miss. I'll play your game again." He said as he stood up and went out of the office after me, heading to the back room. Michael followed behind me, watching the seedy man behind me.

"Oh you will," I muttered. "For the last time of your miserable life."

The backroom was little more than a concrete addition to the warehouse. No windows, no way out except through the door you came in. The furnishings were minute - a metal table and two chairs beside it. Several dark stains littered the floor and walls, most likely from Gunther "correcting" his underlings. I took a seat on the cleanest chair, crossing my ankles. The smell was rusty with the scent of old iron. Gunther sat in the other chair as Michael stood in the corner. Somehow, even with seemingly knowing that the man was about to be six feet under, the orange attired turtle still held a smile on his face. Gunther's color seemed to return to normal as the door was shut closed.

"So, Madame - What way do ya' want yer' muscle ta' tear me up?" He chuckled.

A cruel smile crept up on my lips - he really thought I'd let the new one toy with him.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Gunther." I said, slowly releasing the dampener on my aura, red leaking into the light like ink in water. I stood up, tendrils appearing from the aura and latching around his throat.

Gunther gasped in struggle as his hands tried to rip the apparitions away, unable to grasp them as he was lifted up. I kept the constriction under control as I spoke.

"You have 2 minutes before you run out of air. I've been nice enough to let you have the chance to tell me the truth before I crush your windpipe like a toothpick. Lies will half your time. Struggle will half your time. Tell me the truth, and I may just let you live."

Gunther's face was nearing purple by the time I had let a tendril loosen enough for him to speak.

"I-I lied t-ta' ya' Ma-madame. I- There's a stash I put in Spencer's a-account once he got c-caught, " He wheezed.

My face hardened to a scowl.

"Lies," I tightened the tendril, watching him scramble more for precious air. A dark part of me grinned at the sight of his struggle.

He continued to give me tidbits of truth, finally piecing everything together before I heard a sickening crunch as he fell limp. I dropped the body, blood leaking from his mouth and nose. I looked to Michael, giving a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry you had to see that part of me, Michael... I try to let that be a last resort."

Michael silently walked to me and hugged me, I could tell he was a little shocked from the sight. He muttered softly.

"What did those people teach you to be so cruel when giving death...?"

My eyes widened slightly as he pulled away from me, the words leaving me as he opened the door and let me out, spying Leo walking towards us with a handful of files. He glanced at his brother - the younger giving him a solemn nod as he passed the files to me. A man slipped into the room and dragged out the body, Leo's eyes flitting over to it for a moment before looking to me.

"I take it he wanted to take it to the grave, didn't he?" He asked.

"I ran out of patience. I think I got the most of it through his lies, but I'll still need to go through the files." I replied, taking the files he was holding out to me.

I walked out of the warehouse, putting Dawson in charge until I can find a suitable replacement for Gunther. Thankfully, the old boss had no family to come back to, so there wouldn't need to be any consolation.

I hailed the chauffeur quickly and soon we were back on the road to another appointment. The files could wait until tonight, paperwork was always mindless reading to wind down on. Leo went back to his stoicism, and Michael looked at me.