Uncle Joe's Quarters
As they all stood up, Flick realised how tough she really was. None of the other men would walk near her, each coward as she walked past them.
"Nasty my ass," She whispered under her breath.
Back at Uncle Joe's office, Flick finally felt comfortable. For years she had visited Uncle Joe's 'office', so much so it now felt like a second home. As they all clambered in through the entrance Flick saw it as her chance to escape. Unsuccessfully though, Uncle Joe called her back as soon as he saw her step away.
"Before you disappear we have work to discuss and you're needed."
Flick unenthusiastically followed, mumbling under her breath that 'it can't be that important'. All the men filed in behind Uncle Joe, except Orange, he slowly walked up the stairs, dare I say it even less enthusiastic than Flick.
"Come on Orange, he ain't that bad." Flick tried to smile but her words startled Orange and he didn't know how to answer. He quickened his step and ran into Uncle Joe's office.
The group assembled in lines, the only space left was next to Mr. Brown, he can't be that bad; the poor sod has a name that sounds like shit. Uncle Joe started to talk and Flick immediately zoned out, she wanted nothing to do with this, but knew she had no choice; Uncle Joe was paying for her University next year so that left her with her hands tied. Her reason for not wanting to help was a tragic sob story of which she told no-one as they wouldn't believe her.
The bad images flooded back and Flick grabbed the scar on her leg where she had been hit hit that night. The pain had started again, no-one noticed her pain because she never showed it to anybody, when the ambulance arrived for her father she contemplated not telling them she was hurt as well.
"Flick, Flick can you hear me?" Uncle Joe shoved her on the shoulder; she let out a tiny yelp and focused again.
"Can I help?" she coolly said.
"These men need your help, you know the usual stuff," Uncle Joe gave a husky laugh.
"Fine, meet me in the basement after this meeting finishes, don't be late." Flick walked out and down into the freezing basement Uncle Joe had preserved for her.
Twenty minutes after the meeting had finished, they finally arrived, cocky as ever, wanting to annoy her, and though she didn't show it, they had really pissed her off.
"Oh thank God you've finally arrived, I thought you might have got lost, you know because your brains are so tiny,"
They all mumbled, not wanting to be there, be taught by a girl. Each of them dragged a chair and formed a line, lit up their cigarettes and started to blow smoke rings.
"Right, Pink stand up," Flick pointed to him, he slumped out of his chair and slowly walked to her.
"Get your gun out, point it at me. I'm going to show you how to deal with this type of situation."
Mr. Pink stood there and laughed, she couldn't hurt him. How wrong he was. Within seconds of pulling his gun out she had it out of his hand and he was pressed up against the wall.
Everyone stopped; no-one said anything but Mr. White who had been through this before.
"Very good Flick, I see school hasn't stifled you're skill." He laughed knowing that everyone else in the room would have to go through what just happened to Mr. Pink.
She curtseyed and waited for the next man to step up. Each was the same, panicked when they were against the wall. Apart from when it was Mr. Orange's turn. He fought back, hard.
"Well, looks like we finally got some brains on this job," Said the undereducated Eddie.
Orange and Flick grappled for a while, but eventually Flick was on top, red faced and sweating.
"That was fantastic, don't be too upset if I don't call," She helped Orange up then walked out, sweat dripping from her neck to the base of her back.
Now all Flick did was wait outside and listen to the conversation that fell after the session. It wasn't creepy or anything, she did it with every group.
"Damn she is so fucking hot," Brown said lighting up another cigarette.
"Like Debbie Harry," Someone said but they all agreed in unison.
They talked for a few minutes about how women who were attractive got through life for free and that they never settled down and became mothers and wives, like women were supposed to .The only one that didn't input anything in to the conversation was Orange; he just sat blowing smoke rings, looking absent minded. It wasn't embarrassment that kept him quiet though. He was thinking about her, just like the rest of them, but in a less pornographic way.
Flick walked down the stairs refreshed and changed, now aware of how the group felt about her. It wasn't surprising, a group of men as sexist as they were couldn't have been more stereotypical.
"I want everybody to stand in a circle around me." She stood in the middle of the concrete floor while they lazily formed a circle. Or what they thought was a circle. When everything was quiet and the circle was now a proper circle Flick began,
"Look to your left, they're your friends." She said pacing in the middle, her voice calm and soothing.
"Look to your right, they are your enemies."
"But that doesn't make sense; it means our friends are our enemies." Brown sounded the thoughts of everyone else in the room.
"No, it shows you that you can trust every one and you can trust no-one. Someone who may be your friend may also be your enemy. That's how you have to think on jobs like these. It's every man for himself and every man for every man."
Flick broke the circle, her 'sessions' never really lasted that long, it was all about preparation. And if she was honest, she didn't like the men in the room. Each one seemed to be hiding something, apart from their names.