Inappropriate Protocols

A young woman is given a position of authority in her family's large corporation. She uses it to experiment with ways of causing humiliation, exploitation, and manipulation in a dystopian environment.

Her dad, brother, and the company's Government Division draw her into a separate category of adventures including murder.

Excerpts:

An interesting thing happened when I ran the facial recognition program to find you. Can you be in two places a thousand miles apart at the same time?"

"Why? You ask an intriguing question, sir."

"That was three days ago. Yesterday you two were five hundred miles apart. I set an alert in case there's another hit on the surveillance program. The photo at a toll booth shows her driving a jeep and wearing a bandanna."

"Cool, show me! At least it's not some dingy shit-box four banger. She sounds hip, looks to be a hip chic, reminds me of John Connor's mom in that cyborg movie. Would it be vain of me to say she's cute?"

PING

"What was that?"

"The alert. Our mystery woman is at the front gate of this Campground. Life can be stranger than fiction. The U.S. National Park Service camera links into the grid for the Department of Transportation; airports, toll booths, traffic intersections."

"Surreal. Can't be a coincidence. She's got to be tracking me with your same software. I did submit a DNA sample recently. Maybe that triggered something. Oh my God, Randy. What do I say to her?"

"Dunno, but you'd better figure it out quick. I just saw her jeep go by on the gravel crossroad headed toward the lake. She's going to find you in like two minutes. This is so amazing!"
- - -

"It's not a sex cult."

"Everyone has a devotion directed toward a particular figure, you, which makes it a cult."
- - -
"You had eleven kills. Not a single round missed its target. That's next to impossible. Until today I would have said it is totally impossible considering the active assault conditions. Those three targets you took out on the pier with your rifle were at 300 yards. You nailed all three. You're a goddamn shooting prodigy, Miss King. I want to send you in for sniper training. Okay with you?"
- - -

They are following a van. I can see it through my thermal scope. The vehicle stops and multiple figures can be seen heading into an adjacent warehouse.

"POTUS in position three," calls out one of the spotters.

"I can't get the shot," responds someone else. I determine it must be the main shooter. "We're losing our window of opportunity!"

I hold up my finger to check the wind. "Let's do this, Murdock."

I squeeze off a round. BANG. I knew a bullet travels 2600 feet per second. I estimate the van to be two miles away. That means two seconds per mile for it to get there, four seconds total. I count them off wanting to see if the first shot is accurate.

One body falls. I can't afford to wait that long again, they will scatter. I take enough time to hold my breath and slowly squeeze the trigger for each subsequent shot. I fire five more rounds in succession, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. As I watch the bodies drop, I hope the guy was right about POTUS being #3.
- - -
"Dad, as you know, having Nude Friday replace Casual Friday is one of my goals. I'm thinking we should use baby steps transitioning there by starting with Clothing-Optional Friday. What do you think?"
- - -

It's an exclusive, secret group. Nothing is ever written down so there will be no paper trail, leaving plausible deniability. Members provide a $1000 initial deposit called collateral. In return they get preferable treatment when applying for job openings, including promotions.

Members also provide a compromising video and/or photo of a sexual nature. Once I approve it and it gets uploaded to the private site, all other members can access it.