Call Girls

"So how does this usually go?" She asked, tentatively. It was her first day on the job, and she was shadowing the boss. She didn't want to sound clueless and make them second guess their decision.

"It's quite simple," The other woman replied. She had a grace and poise that were enviable. "And completely humane."

The new girl blinked, trying to convey her confusion in a look. The older woman sighed, "We wait for the call, accept or decline it, wait for the wire, secure the payment, and then go to our given address and do whatever our client wishes."

"Anything?" She hadn't meant to sound so scared.

"You'll see." The older woman said. "We've just had a wire come through. I'll handle this one, and you can watch. Next time, it will be more hands on."

It was, for once, the exact opposite of how she'd thought it would be. There was no passion, no horror. Her mentor acted mechanically. Humanely. The client had ordered evisceration. She carried it out after an untraceable lethal injection. There was no pain, in the end. Perhaps the client would get some feeling after they heard the news. To her, it seemed oddly clinical.

It was a few months after she'd been approved to work solo that she was called in the boss's office. The woman's mouth was pressed in a hard line, as ever, and her eyes were dead. Her face was a blank mask waiting for an expression to be painted on. It was the same kind of face echoed all around the offices. They were, in fact, liars by trade. Well, killers by trade, liars by extension.

"Client expressly wanted to speak with you." Her boss tells her, handing her the phone. She was in trouble. Good assassins hardly got recommendations. She was sure to get a talking to for not being discreet enough for the job after this phone call was over. 

She squeezed, past her boss, behind the desk to get a receiver.

"Hello, Miss Lacey's Telephone Hotline, how can I help you?"

"Bye bye, darling."

She had expected an unknown voice. This one had been close, and there was only one thing that could mean. 

Her boss's computer showed a verified wire transfer. There was a prick in her neck and almost immediately her eyesight went so blurry she couldn't see what this job had cost. Oh well. In the end, isn't it always thirty pieces of silver?

It was the job of the newest girl to dispose of the body.