CHAPTER 3 Jennifer, Formerly John

What She Was Before

Jennifer's old name was John. He led a very different life as a man in the Mother Country. At that time, he was an embassy diplomat who assisted ambassadors and politicians from different Colonies and countries. It was his official job. Unofficially, he was a top-secret government assassin, code-named John Bedlam: agent of chaos.

He racked up thirty-one confirmed kills in his whole career before the so-called "rebirth." He had a high success rate and was regarded as the most prolific killer working in the Mother Country. His targets were mostly high-value and especially hard to kill. He was a total badass, but everything changed after a job in the Philippine Colony. It was a life-changing event and made him question his role in the government and his very existence.

John's First Time in the Colony

John was an attaché assigned to a visiting senator; it was his official cover and main function.

The senator came to the Colony for business: he was peddling a new kind of drug that had unusual side effects which made the user strong and impregnable to pain. He was looking for a buyer and distributor among the Colony's pharmaceutical companies. John's job was to set up meetings for both parties, arrange for security, and bribe people that needed bribing. That was his primary task. His secondary and more important task, the main reason he was there in the first place, was to kill someone that needed killing.

The mark was a woman; her name was Gloria Cross. She was a madam who operated the biggest and most successful brothel in Neo Manila. She had provided a needed service for the middle and higher castes. She catered to all types of clientele: men, women, lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transsexuals, and queers. She had amassed great wealth and power, as a result, had become a person of interest to the Higher Echelons of the Colony.

Madam Cross had a penchant for voyeurism. She installed secret cameras in all the bedrooms and took pleasure in watching the intimate romps. The act itself was generally harmless—just a few people in her circle knew of her curious proclivity—but she made the grievous error of recording the sexual trysts. Once the Higher Echelons knew about this particular piece of information (some of them were her frequent customers) she became a target for death.

John had the plan of first acquiring the brothel's blueprints (which wasn't difficult to get due to his stature in the government) and doing a thorough study. Once ready, he'd visit the brothel, posing as a john, find a way to Madam Cross' private chambers, kill her, destroy the recordings, and escape. It was simple enough but proved to be complicated.

Going Inside the Lioness' Den

There were no guns allowed in Madam Cross' house. Armed guards were stationed at every entrance. Whoever came inside was searched for weapons and anything that looked dangerous were confiscated, the visitor was booted out. Some of the guards were in the main lobby and a few roamed the hallways, silently observing and watching the everyday occurrences. Cameras were also installed on every wall crevice, which connected to computer monitors within Madam Cross' chambers—along with the hidden cameras—where she also watched.

John preferred weapon of choice was a Glock 43 subcompact handgun; which can be easily concealed, portable, and had the deadliest of outcomes. He strapped it in his left ankle inside a holster, which he knew the guards were too stupid to check.

Confidence was the key in his line of work, which he had in spades and nothing ever gave him a cause for worry. He also had a talent for improvisation. Whenever faced with a seemingly impossible ordeal he always found a way to get the better of it, by any means necessary. As a result, he would often leave chaos and confusion in his wake. It was how he got his code name.

So he entered the premises and was very sure of the outcome.

After the guard's inspection, he walked toward the main lobby. The hall was dimly lit, the air thick with hallucinogenic vapor. It disorientated him for a second, but quickly adjusted himself and soldiered on.

The lobby was the center of the action; that was where customers and prostitutes congregated. Partners were chosen, timeframes were set, dealings were talked over then finalized, and led to private rooms.

John followed the same route, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. At that time, he was a fairly handsome young man—not too handsome, so he wouldn't stand out. He always had no interest in sex and thought of himself as asexual, so he just picked randomly among the prostitutes on display. His plan was the same as he realized beforehand: he'd spend a few minutes in his allotted room with the prostitute, wait for the coast to clear, then silently creep into the Madam's room, kill her, set fire to her room to destroy the recordings and evidence of his involvement.

Little had he known that all his so-called plan was going to be shot to hell and completely changed the course of his life.

First Time with Bea

John was led to an upstairs room by his partner for the night. Once the bedroom door was closed, his partner said: "Hello, my name is Beatrice Arthur. What's yours?"

"Your name… Where have I heard that before?"

"I guess she was before your time, I mean I," she said demurely and sat on the bed facing John.

The room was darkly lit so John could hardly see what she looked like. He just noticed that she was lithe and light on her feet.

"Your name; I'm really intrigued. Can you give me a clue?"

"Not yet. Will you sit beside me?"

John also sat. She gave off a flowery fragrance that intoxicated him. She proceeded to undress him: jacket first, then undershirt and pants, what only remained were briefs and socks. The Glock was strapped on his left ankle, which he immediately unsheathed and hid inside the bedside drawer, without her noticing.

It was her turn to undress. She stood up and turned around. Her whole wardrobe was just one long piece of cloth strapped on the shoulder like a cape that covered her whole body. With one flick of her finger, the cloth fell to the floor. She turned around to face him. From the waist up she was radiant, looked supple and tender, like a young woman with underdeveloped breasts right at the point of leaving girlhood. However, from the waist down, she was… a very prominent and manly he.

John couldn't believe his eyes. He stared at the one-eyed and erect thing staring at him which seemed to know what he was feeling, which was pure shock.

"It's your first time with someone like me, huh? Don't be alarmed," she whispered. John thought, still in his shocked state, that the erect thing was the one that did the whispering. He nodded back at it.

She pushed him gently on the bed and lay beside him. She caressed his face tenderly. "Don't you worry my sweet boy, I'll be gentle…"

###

"By the way, how should I call you?" Asked John after their lovemaking session was over. He had enjoyed every minute of it, which greatly surprised him. His previous romps were exclusive with women, which to him, wasn't at all noteworthy. His experience with this kind of partner was at first confusing but became outstanding and then revelatory. He felt things that he didn't know could be felt by someone like him, from the kind of person he was and the kind of work he did. He was in complete bliss and the reason why he was there in the first place seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind.

"You can call me Bea, and it's from the Golden Girls."

Hmm? Oh, your name! Right, I got it now. It was my mom's favorite show growing up, which also became my favorite show. I guess that's yours as well. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Wow. So much in common, so many things to say…"

They talked and talked. John told her things he hadn't told anyone before: personal things about his life in the government and secret things that had "classified" or "top secret" stamped on the file folder. He had forgotten his mission there. All the while, through secret lens, Madam Cross was watching them.

A Complication

Madam Cross wasn't a fool as John thought she was. Among her clientele, she cultivated an air of mystery and nonchalance which was a façade, to show the Colonists that she played by the rules and wasn't a threat to anyone. In truth, she was as cold and hard as they come; ruthless to the people that knew her best which were her employees. She was especially unsparing of the ladies under her wing and demanded loyalty and obedience. Those who disobeyed her suffered the consequences. It made them compliant to her many whims, one of which was turning a blind eye to the hidden cameras and recordings of their trysts with clients.

###

Bea knew the Madam was watching. For the allotted time they'd spend with their clients, they were told to play the role of a caring and attentive girlfriend, becoming their ideal partner for the time being.

Bea played the part well, all the time, every time. She was, after all, one of Madam's most sought after and highest-earning ladies. She was also the most trusted and the Madam relied on her to notify her whenever important information came her way.

She knew once they entered the room that John was an important john. So she pressed a hidden button directed to the Madam's quarters that gave the heads-up.

###

"…so I shot him point blank on the back of his head. He was a bad guy anyway, a piece of human garbage. If anyone needed killing, he was the perfect example," blabbered John.

"What did he do? I can't imagine a person so bad that the only way to change him was to kill him. How about redemption, don't you believe in it?"

"In my line of work, no. Some people are just bad and won't change. A bad egg will always be a bad egg, no matter what and the only solution is to throw it in the garbage. Think of me as a garbage collector, but better smelling."

She smiled. She thought she couldn't sustain their conversation, and John might leave due to disinterest. She had realized that there was no cause for worry because she had him in her pocket; she only needed to wait. She relaxed a bit. "You didn't answer my first question."

"What? Oh, what he did do? Well, therein lies a story…"

###

While John was spinning his fanciful yarn to the beguiling Bea, unbeknownst to him, Madam Cross was watching and planning to make a move. She wanted to get the most out of John, any useful information that she'd get, something that she'd be financially rewarded.

She was especially aware of bullshitters. It was a needed skill in her line of business. She had mastered the intricacies of facial tics, body language, intonation, and speech patterns; she was confident that she'd get someone right about 99% of the time.

From what she observed about John, he was as truthful as anyone she had come across, and it was clear to her that his entire motive was to only impress Bea. He exaggerated on some points, and scattered some embellishments here and there, just to get a rise out of her. He was only hungry for Bea's attention and approval, as Madam Cross guessed correctly. To her, John looked like a pathetic little boy.

This is perfect, she thought and smiled.

###

"…had to escape in a hail of gunfire and killed many of his minions. It happens a lot, by the way. Every kill order I've undertaken always ends in a complication. I guess that's why they call me 'John Bedlam.' "

"That's sounds cool. Is that real?"

"No. It's an alias, just like your name. It's SOP to have one, you know. Can you imagine using your real name in this kind of work? The ramifications that might happen? It's not only unprofessional, it's downright stupid."

"I can understand that. I wouldn't dare use my real name here. And Madam won't allow us…"

"You aren't allowed to do a lot of stuff here, huh?"

"Well, yeah. She our boss, you know. She takes care of us, protects us. To live and work here, we have to do what she says. All of us have to follow the rules. She's like our mother in this place."

"And if you don't?"

"Well…" said Bea and bit her lip. She glanced upward cautiously. She didn't know where the hidden cameras were located, she just knew they were there. She wouldn't dare say anything derogatory against the Madam to not incur her wrath. So she kissed him full in the mouth.

They made love again.

Madam Cross' Rise to Power

Madam Cross eased from her chair and rubbed her eyelids. This will take a while.

She stood up and stretched her muscles. She bent down to touch her toes then stretched her legs at right angles to the trunk. She did more yoga poses, extending her extremities in unnatural positions. She prided herself on having a healthy and limber body, despite her increasing age.

She started as a pole dancer. She was naturally agile since she was a gymnast in her teens. It didn't pay as much as she'd wanted so she looked for other opportunities in Neo Manila's flourishing red-light district. She found one that paid grandly and whose work was just a few hours each week. She stuck with it and went on to become the highest-paid call girl in Neo Manila. She had amassed great wealth in her many years there. When her looks began to fade and her body started to sag, she knew it was time to retire. With the money saved and the many connections made during her tenure, she built the most prolific brothel in the whole Colony.

Along with street smarts and hard-boiled tenacity, she reinvented herself to become one of the richest and most powerful underworld figures in the whole Colony. She ruled her small kingdom with an iron fist and oftentimes the ladies under her wing felt the brunt of it.

She prided herself on knowing and controlling everything within her reach. Right before something would go awry, she imagined hearing bells in her head as a warning sign. Once she'd hear it, then the brothel goes into lockdown mode. She would press a button for a real bell to ring and her armed staff would look for the particular fire and stamp it out.

With John, the bells weren't ringing in her head. So far, the goings-on inside the room was to be expected and was typical as clockwork.

A Standoff

After their third time making love, John noticed his butt felt sore. He considered himself physically fit and did regular workout sessions, so he was familiar with the sensation of sore muscles. However, this was a new kind of feeling, and for a minute, was confused about how he got it. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. This was the kind of muscle unfamiliar with this kind of stress, so soreness was incurred in that part of the body. His feeling of bliss began to crash down. He was embarrassed at first, then got mad. Then he remembered the mission.

He sat up. He thought of the plan again: make his way towards the Madam's chambers without anyone noticing, kill her, destroy the CCTV system, set fire to the room as a diversion, and quickly escape the premises. He remembered the blueprints and where he was in the building: he was on the second floor and the Madam's room was on the next floor, two doors on the right from the stairway.

###

On the CCTV monitor connected to John and Bea's room, Madam Cross thought she saw something different. She couldn't put a finger on it. Something was off. She watched intently at every nook and cranny of the very sparse room. Everything was still in its proper place. Then she saw it. It wasn't something that was out of place in the room, but someone. John's body had tensed up, and she didn't know why.

She summoned her head of security—a humongous brute of a man named Gustav—on the walkie-talkie.

For an oversized man, Gustav was light on his feet like a hulking male ballet dancer. Madam Cross was unaware that he had arrived and was already standing behind her.

His bulk was due to his years as a mixed martial artist. He was forcefully retired at the prime of his prowess because of massive head trauma from a roundhouse kick on his left temple. It knocked him out and was comatose for a month. Once he woke he knew he wasn't the same fighter anymore and it was the end of his career in the octagon. He had to look for different employment and found one as Madam Cross' paid muscle.

He was exceedingly loyal to her. He readily obeyed everything she said, even though his usual task involved beating the crap out of someone, usually troublesome johns and sometimes her erring ladies. This made her happy and thus rewarded him with the rank of security head.

"You called, Madam…?" Gustav said. His voice was abnormally high-pitched like a pre-pubescent boy.

"Huh? Oh, you're already here. That was fast. I want you to look at something," Madam said and pointed towards the monitor that showed John and Bea's room. Gustav crouched down and looked closely. He accidentally let out a small fart. She knew of his condition and fought the urge to say something harsh because he was sensitive about this. She cleared her throat. "What do you see?"

"A guy and a girl fucking, just about done. Wait… I mean a ladyboy. Everything looks normal Madam."

"Well yes, but look closely. You don't seen it?"

He crouched further down and furrowed his eyebrows. His viewpoint was now a few inches from the screen. He saw John's taut expression. However, being constantly hit in the head by professional fighters for many years made him unaware of a lot of things, like the impoliteness of breaking wind in public and the complexity of body language.

"What am I supposed to see, Madam?"

"This guy mainly. He doesn't look like he's from around here. He looks very different from our usual clients."

"You mean creepy assholes? As far as I'm concerned, one has to be a creepy asshole to come here. I'm sure this guy's the same."

"He's not. One thing, he's young. Another thing, he looks dainty but strong. And he's not ugly. Lastly, he looks like he's worried about something."

"Hmmm… Perhaps so. You're always right Madam. You haven't been wrong all this time."

"The only question is: is he dangerous or a threat to us?"

"Should I take him to the basement and teach him a lesson?"

"He hasn't done anything yet. We couldn't just take him."

"That hasn't stopped us before. We beat up people just because you don't like the way they looked, like what we're about to do now."

"With this guy, I'm not so sure…"

"Just say the word Madam and he's toast," he said and watched for a response. Madam Cross didn't say anything back. She just smiled.

###

Bea was uncommonly tired. This was always how it was with first-timers like John. She had always compared the deed to be in the final round in a bare-naked Greco-Roman wrestling match. She'd be exhausted beyond belief and the only thing she has to do was sleep, which she did.

But John wasn't tired. On the contrary, he was energized. He felt attune to the moment, the here and the now. He felt one with the universe. This was the perfect time to act.

He slowly dressed and casually reached for the Glock in the bedside drawer. He tiptoed towards the door, opened it, and peeked outside. The hallway was also darkly lit but the coast was clear. He closed the door behind him.

###

They were surprised about the gun. Gustav broke the wind again, this time a little bit louder and smellier. He hadn't dealt with anyone at gunpoint before. He had always relied on his fists to do the talking. He hadn't used his issued gun before and thought he didn't need it. It was like an accessory on his waist, something that made him look tougher. He anxiously faced Madam Cross and waited for instructions.

She was also nervous but hid it well. This was also the first time for her. In all her past dealings, she hadn't needed a gun to intimidate and prove a point. She had relied on her strong presence and Gustav's fists to bring forth a solution to a particular problem. This changes everything, she thought.

"Madam? This guy has a gun. What should we do?" Gustav nervously said.

"Gustav, I have a bone to pick with you. You're supposed to be my head of security. How the hell did he get past you carrying a gun?"

"Really sorry Madam. It was Jerry, the new guy that checked him at the entrance. I guess he didn't do it thoroughly…"

"When this is over, I want you to teach him a lesson and fire him, do you understand?!"

"Yes Madam."

"First thing's first. Call the others and tell them to come here immediately. We need to contain this situation as quickly and as quietly as possible. And be careful, he said he's killed before."

###

John reached the stairway and was about to go up. He glanced upwards and was about to take his first step when he saw Gustav and six large guards about to go down. They also saw him. Both parties froze in place. For a minute, no one dared to move. The air was thick with nervous tension.

At the back, Gustav yelled: "that's him!" and let out a booming fart that sounded like an 18th-century cannon. This broke the spell and was an action signal.

John reacted quickly. This was the type of situation he excelled at, which made him inclined to take risks. He fired at the three guards in front in quick succession: RAT-TAT-TAT! They dropped like dead flies on the stairs. The others ran back and hid past the entryway. John did the same on the other end.

Madam had pressed the button for the alarm bell to blare out. The johns and ladies started coming out of the rooms and filed towards the stairs. John fell in line and followed. They approached the dead guards on the stairs, some shrieked and some remained in shocked silence. But all walked on, towards the main door in the lobby.

Gustav and the remaining guards regrouped in Madam Cross' room. Her façade of nonchalance was broken and was flustered, so were Gustav and the guards. They were in an unfamiliar situation. This has never happened to them before. They looked to her for a response or a command, but she didn't seem to notice them. She was watching the different monitors one by one as if looking for something. She didn't seem to find it.

"Where is he?! Where did he go?" she said, still looking at the screens.

"Who are you looking for, Madam?" said a guard which she hadn't seen before. She guessed correctly that this was Jerry the new guy.

"The guy, you moron. The guy that shot at you! Did you see him?"

"Well yes. We had to get out of there, he already killed three of us."

"You didn't shoot back? You didn't think of using the guns that I paid for all of you to use in THIS KIND OF SITUATION?!"

"Sorry Madam," all of them said in unison, their heads bowed.

"He's just one guy with a gun. JUST ONE GUY! Find him and bring him to me!" she shrieked.

"Yes Madam."

"But first, take the dead bodies down to the basement and have the stairs cleaned. I don't want to see any filth when I walk past it."

###

John was approaching the main door and in a few seconds, was out of the building. He was wary that the guard stationed at the entrance already knew of him and the threat he posed. However, he wasn't planning on leaving yet. He still had a job to do and needed to finish it. He remembered the building's blueprint and knew of another way of going to Madam Cross' room, unnoticed.

Lockdown

One of Madam Cross' regular clients was Neo Manila's Chief of Police, a corrupt and pitiless man with a penchant for young girls. He hadn't spent the night there so she gave him a call. She told him everything but left out her guards' incompetence in handling the matter. He advised her to lock the place down and to make sure everyone had left except the man in question. He also said he was sending some of his men to assist her in resolving the said matter.

The ladies were instructed to stand in line, arm in arm, at the side of the main entrance. The Chief's men were to scrutinize each of them in a professional capacity. On the contrary, unbeknownst to them, the men just wanted to pick and choose from the proverbial fruit bowl that the brothel offered.

Once they arrived, Madam Cross came down from her room to welcome them. Her face fell. Her first impression of them was that they didn't look like the typical men in blue, but thugs. She realized that the Chief didn't make it clear whether the men sent to her were cops or not. She only assumed they were. With that in mind, she said: "Who are you? You don't look like cops."

"The Chief sent us to assist you in your problem, and yes we are Madam. We're from a unit that specializes in this type of dilemmas. The way we look is on purpose, it's sort of a camouflage in this urban setting. If we look like regular police, no one from the criminal underbelly would talk to us. My name is Lieutenant Dane. I'm the leader of this outfit, we answer to no one else but the Chief," he said and offered a hand.

Madam Cross took it. She had misgivings about involving the Chief of Police, but she had no other choice. There was a crime committed in her place of business, so she had to call him.

All of them were dressed in denim and leather, like hardcore motorcycle bikers. They were a mean-looking bunch and had an intangible quality that no one was supposed to mess with them.

She also liked how Lieutenant Dane looked. He appeared to be tough and built like a bull. He had a shiny bald head and both his arms were filled with intricate tattoos. There was a toothpick lodged in his mouth and dexterously moved it from side to side while he talked. She was transfixed by his mouth and imagined kissing him. She said: "I think I know what's on all of your minds, after all we're in a brothel. You can have free pick from my stable of beauties. But make it quick, we still have a situation that needs to be resolved."

The men smiled. They turned around and appraised the array of beauties. Each of them made their pick and was led to a room. But Lt. Dane didn't join them. He hadn't taken his eyes off Madam Cross the whole time. He just smiled at her devilishly.

She was familiar with that smile from her many years in the skin business. She was pleasantly surprised that someone still wanted her despite her age. After all, she still looked attractive, her body still limber. She also wanted him. She smiled back and offered her hand to his.

Lt. Dane took it and followed her.

###

Bea awoke with a start. She looked beside her and saw that John had left. She sat up. She felt a strange unease, like something was wrong and she didn't know why. She remained still and thought about it. Then it hit her. The silence. Where is everybody?

It was never quiet at that time of the night. There were always sounds emanating from the walls in different stages of ecstasy: grunts, heavy breathing, screams, howls, and in rare times, repeated blows. It was eerily silent like a tomb. She stood up, strapped on the one cloth for covering, and walked out of the room.

Then she heard something. The usual sound of fucking comes from the corner room before the stairs. She breathed a sigh of relief. Whew! It's all in my imagination.

She went up the stairs towards Madam Cross' chambers. She was supposed to tell her everything that had transpired once she's finished with a john; she was privy to all the juicy details. As she took the final step toward Madam Cross' floor, she heard something from a room. It wasn't a noise from sex or a room used for sex. Someone was calling out her name in a broom closet. She stopped in front of it, stuck her ear on the surface, and listened. The door suddenly opened and a hand grabbed her inside.

It was pitch dark. The unknown person had clasped a hand on her mouth. However, she immediately knew who it was that grabbed her, after all, they had just spent a few hours together. John removed his hand from her mouth and kissed her. He turned on the light.

The closet was half as big as their previous room and almost filled with cleaning equipment. There were a few rickety chairs strewn about and John grabbed two for them to sit.

"John? What's going on? What are you doing here?" she said. She noticed that he was holding a gun.

"I'm supposed to kill your boss and I'm having a hard time doing it. I'm waiting for the right time to strike. Your boss just went inside her room with a guy, a tough looking one. I'm contemplating barging in and shooting them both or wait for him to leave and shoot her alone. What do you think?"

"You can't kill her."

"Why not? People want her dead, Bea. She's angered a lot of important people. It's already a done deal. If I'm not able to kill her today, someone else will."

"I know she deserves it. She's not really a good person. She beats us, you know. And she has hidden cameras on all the bedrooms so she can watch us fuck. No, I'm thinking of myself. What am I supposed to do once she dies? I can't go back to the street and be a drugger. No way."

"Oh… I haven't thought of that. This changes things…"

"Thanks for understanding. So you have to get out of here right now! If she finds out what you're planning, you're dead."

"Don't worry about me, my dear. I've already killed three of the guards. Those guys are cowards, by the way. They just ran off after I shot at them."

"You did?! Oh my god. She'll be pissed!"

"No she won't. She's right there in her room right now screwing that tough looking guy. Can you hear it?"

Bea did. She heard faint noises of Madam Cross squealing like a stuck pig coming from the walls. She said: "You're right. Her room is just two doors from here, that's why we can hear them."

"Yes and this is the perfect time to kill her while she's occupied. She'll be caught unaware."

"But how about that guy with her? We don't know him yet and he might still shoot back at you."

"Is he one of the guards?"

"No, that I'm sure of. She'd never sleep with anyone of them. It's one of her rules, you know. Never mix business with pleasure."

"So who is he?"

"He's a john, but not the usual ones we get. I'll bet he's a killer just like you. If that's the case, then you'll have to leave. Please."

"Not yet. I need to know who he is and if he's alone. If you'll help me with this, then I'll leave."

"Alright. Just promise me that you won't do anything drastic. Stay here and I'll be back," she said and stood up.

"Thanks Bea. I promise. I'll just wait for you right here." he said.

She quietly walked out of the room. He knew he'll have to break that promise when the time comes.

She walked softly downstairs towards the main lobby. It was almost empty of people, which she thought was very unusual. There were always a lot of people hanging around: ladies talking to johns, guards walking the hallways. A few ladies were sitting on the couches doing nothing, some were crying and some looked shell-shocked. They were startled by her appearance once she came into view as they had just seen a ghost. She approached a good friend of hers who went by the assumed name of Britney Spears, the youngest among them. She was also a ladyboy. She was crying the loudest. She rushed towards her, hugged her tightly and said: "Bea, where were you? I didn't see you after the alarm rang. I was so worried."

"I just woke. I guess I didn't hear it. What happened?"

"One of the clients shot and killed three of the guards. The remaining guards are scared so Madam called the police."

"The police? I don't see them here. Where are they?"

"They're in the rooms with some of the girls. Can you believe it, in a time like this? Even the Madam has a one of them in her room."

"The cop with the Madam, can you tell me about him? Do you know him?"

"What I know about him is what he said when he introduced himself. He's their leader and his name is Lt. Dane. He doesn't look like the police. He bald and scary and looks mean."

"Why are you still here? You should've left by now."

"The Madam won't let us leave. Bea, one of the guards said that the guy that shot at them is still here, hiding. Why is he still here? This is all going to be bad Bea. What should we do?" Britney said and wailed.

"I don't know Britney, I really don't. I'm going to talk to the Madam."

"Don't go yet Bea, please. Stay here with me."

"Alright, for the meantime. Once she's not busy, then I'm going to talk to her. And stop crying, will you. You look stupid."

Britney stopped wailing and was stunned. This was a rehash of an argument that they always had. Britney would make everything worse and overreact, while Bea would act as a mother figure and had to scold her in silence. That was the basis of their friendship.

Thirty minutes passed and nothing happened. Britney and the others stopped crying and relaxed a bit. Some drowsed off. However, Bea was getting antsy.

"This is all crazy. We should be allowed to leave, it's really not safe here. I can't wait anymore. I have to talk to her," she said and started walking upstairs. Britney started wailing again. Bea paid no attention and walked on.

The Root of Evil

Madam Cross never felt this good as she had in her prime as the best call girl in Neo Manila. She was paid top dollar for something she was good at and loved doing. She only picked the richest and most appealing clients; she made sure each sexual encounter with them was the best one they've had and most memorable. In turn, they gave her whatever her heart desired, which mainly were loads of cash. And in turn, the money began changing her from the inside.

She was lying down on the bed with Lt. Dane, smoking a cigarette. The euphoria that she felt made her reminisce about her life, every decision she made that led to that point in time. She realized that money played a big part in her decision-making process. She thought of the people she had hurt just so she could earn more. With all this swimming in her head, she came to a realization: she just didn't care.

She nudged Lt. Dane on the ribs and faced him. She kissed him passionately. She felt he was the man she was waiting for all this time, the one that she can finally call equal. For the first time in her life, she could finally be happy.

Then she heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" she yelled.

"It's me, Bea. Can I come in?"

"Oh yes! I've been meaning to talk to you. Wait there while I unlock the door," she said and started dressing.

She opened the door slightly and peeked outside. She saw Bea's delicate and worried face, a few inches from hers, so close that they could smell each other's breath.

"Can I talk to you about something, Madam Cross?"

"Sure! Come in, come in!" She said and opened the door widely. She turned around and walked toward her desk. She glanced at Lt. Dane still lying down on the bed but noticed his expression change. He was dumbfounded. His eyes bulged and his mouth agape. She turned around and saw that Bea wasn't alone. John was walking behind her with a gun pointing at the back of her head.

He closed the door behind him. He reached from his pocket, took out a silencer, and attached it to the muzzle of the gun. He shot Lt. Dane point-blank on the forehead. He dropped dead on the bed, still with the same expression. He grabbed Madam Cross by the hair and pushed her to the bed beside Lt. Dane's corpse.

"John, no! I mean, not yet." Bea said.

"No, stop! Please, I can give you anything, anything you want! Just don't kill me please!" Madam Cross said and started crying.

"Nothing personal Madam. The Higher Echelons of the Colony want you dead. You must accept this. You can't go on living like this, with the money you make from the people that you hurt."

"This is a mistake. I've never done anything wrong! Just ask her, ask Bea!"

"Leave her out of this. Where do you keep your money?"

"In a lockbox. You want it? You can have all of it!" She said and scrambled towards the desk. She reached inside the drawer and took it out. It was heavy and she had a hard time carrying it.

"Open it up."

"It's a combination lock. I forgot what it is. I have to think…"

"She's lying. She knows it; she's drawing out time," said Bea.

"Bea, how could you say that? I've been like a mother to you and given you everything. I made you rich working here."

"Lies, all lies. You were never a mother to anyone of us, you made us like prisoners here. You've hurt us, you know. Well, not anymore."

"You bitch!" She yelled like a banshee. She took out a gun from the lockbox and shot Bea in the chest. Blood immediately spurted out from the orifice and she fell to the floor.

"Oh my god…" said John. For a split second, he lost his bearings but reacted like the professional that he was and shot Madam Cross in the left temple.

She dropped dead on the floor.

John rushed towards Bea and knelt. She was still alive but fading fast. She was shot in the heart and a great deal of blood was pouring out of the wound. She was a goner and both of them knew it.

"Bea, oh Bea. We were supposed to escape together with the money. You should have stuck to the plan and let me do all the talking."

"'I'm sorry John, I'm so sorry. Get away from here John, the other cops are still here. Leave this horrible place and get on with your life."

"I'll come back Bea. I'll come back and everyone involved is going to pay."

"No… Don't... Please…" she said for the last time and died.

Bedlam ensued.

###

John barely escaped with just the shirt on his back. Despite anything to the contrary, his mission was accomplished and the Higher Echelons were still satisfied with the outcome. He went back to the Mother Country, resigned his post, and to everyone else that knew him, disappeared from their sight. For all intents and purposes, John Bedlam, embassy attaché and assassin, had died and Jennifer Coolidge was born in his place.