Bad Company
an excerpt

The Characters:
1. Col. Tom G. Becket, chairman of the huge, controversial, and scandal-ridden government contractor Dictel Corporation, now attempting a hostile takeover of America; codename: Neron
2. Desiree Richter-Thomas, Col. Becket's estranged niece, a beautiful and fiery young redhead, so traumatized by savage abuse by certain divisions of the Becket family business that she has become an underground news guerrilla dedicated to destroying Dictel; codename: Livewire
3. Ramon Gabriel, a.k.a. Rashid Jibril, Colombian secret police hitman turned Dictel mercenary turned Islamic terrorist; seduced Desiree into a terrorist plot against Dictel; murdered by Col. Becket himself
4. Billy Hunter, Desiree's "camera eye"; codename: Scope
5. Millions of spellbound webcast viewers, some betting on whether Desiree will die or Dictel will collapse

Dictel Corporation, the "bad company" of the title, was founded after World War II by former Nazi collaborators led by one Roger Steele Becket; its primary purpose has always been to do the US government's dirtiest work. It is not just a parasitic, predatory giant corporation; it is also a crime syndicate, a terrorist organization, and an insane cult.

This is the climax.
"The Lion's Den"

Suddenly Col. Becket is overwhelmed by the feeling that something is horribly wrong. He about faces rapidly to find Rashid Jibril standing before him, seemingly alive even though his throat had been crushed by the Colonel himself before. He has appeared as if from out of nowhere. His dead eyes stare accusingly at his murderer.

The Colonel stands paralyzed in terror at the wraith confronting him. "No...you're dead...I killed you myself! Go away, demon!" He steps back slowly.

Rashid falls to the ground limply. Behind him stands Desiree Richter-Thomas, staring at her uncle with hard eyes, an ironic smile on her face. From behind her, Scope emerges, his camera eye fixing on Col. Becket.

"YOU!" he shrieks as he rapidly swipes his pistol from its shoulder holster and points it at her.

"Hello, Uncle Tom," coos Desiree. "We're live."

Like a cornered beast preparing to lash out, the Colonel growls through his teeth in a low voice slashed with rage and hysteria, "What are you doing here, Desiree? How the hell did you get in here?"

"I see you were already prepared." She takes out her own pistol, jams a full clip into it, cocks it, clicks off the safety--and then tosses it to him. He juggles it with his left hand, then gains control of it and points it also at her. "You always wanted to be a John Woo hitman."

"You won't make it out of here alive. You're already dead."

"Am I?" She is completely calm, neither feeling nor showing any fear of death. Her unblinking eyes drill into his, unnerving him. "But you won't kill me. You can't. If you pull either of those triggers, that'll signal to Interpol that they don't need to bring you in alive. Your story ends here. But if you let me go, that'll signal your weakness; your rivals will jump in and feed on your corporate corpse. Either way, Dictel is doomed and you're doomed." She flashes a brilliant smile. "Heads I win, tails you lose."

"You can't play me for a fool like you played your Uncle Harry. He was always good with rats and pigeons, but he never had a clue about humans. I had to. I can see through any scheme. That's how I got where I am. Anything you can do, I've already seen through it and countered it beforehand. You say you've got the winning hand? Not as long as I control the house."

"Spoken like a true gambler. But I've got a surprise for you."

"There are no surprises. I've already seen through you."

"Check the dollar. It'll surprise even you."

He scans the monitors around him. Then he runs back to his command center at the center of the situation room, pounds on several keys and switches, barks "Dollar!" to his computer, and then stops to watch the results appear onscreen. To his surprise--she wasn't kidding--he sees the dollar exchange rates increase--on the dollar side. As the dollar's already minuscule value collapses even further, his shock turns to horror. He can barely speak. "You...didn't--impossible!"

Desiree smiles ironically. "My little gift, just for you, Uncle."

He swivels around again to point his guns at her and screams at her, "How the hell did you do that?"

"That's my secret."

"Secret? That's a common Russian mafia technique. The Russians did it to the euro last year. I did it myself at least twice! You and your hacker friends did it, didn't you! Well, I'll have to kill you right here now, and then I'll find your hacker friends and put them down, like the dogs they are! Nobody robs me and lives!"

"Tails..."

His guns waver as he growls with impotent rage. He glares at Scope, whose camera eye continues to stare at him unblinking. Then he glowers back at Desiree and snaps, "How did you figure out how to play me? You of all people, a mere girl of inferior blood!"

"I learned from the masters." She smiles, her unbearable gaze still drilling into him.

He says nothing, only gritting his teeth, his mouth sealed tight. He tries to steady his guns, but his shaking arms disobey him. He growls like a cornered beast.

"I'm afraid I have to go. I have everything I need from you." She turns her back to him to leave, then turns her head back to say, "Don't work yourself to death. You're in a state as it is." Then she turns and walks away. "Goodbye, Uncle Tom. You'll never see me again." She passes Scope as she walks into the darkness. Scope takes several steps back, keeping his camera on the Colonel. Then he also turns away and disappears.

Col. Tom Becket slowly lowers his guns, then drops them. His rage shifts imperceptibly into horror and humiliation as he realizes his once pliant niece has defeated him on live television, in front of a potential audience of millions. He regains his composure as he convinces himself that he still has the power to destroy her. There will be a rematch, and she knows it. He will get his revenge whatever it takes. At the top of his lungs, he roars out to her, as if she could hear him: "I'll destroy you, you little traitorous witch! I'll ruin you, and I'll kill you, and I'll throw you into hell to burn! You can't win!"