Page 104 of What Doesn't Kill You…

There was a noticeboard with schedules and notes, a counter with a sink and coffee maker, and a tall metal cupboard housing weapons. She helped herself to a couple of flash-bangs, a smoke grenade, and some extra ammunition for her automatic weapon, putting all of it in the pockets of her cargo pants. The pants were so much more useful than a dress.

She was about to turn back to the guard when she noticed a map, buried under a roster on the board. She unpinned it and smiled. It showed the layout of the house and was marked with the different security routes covered each shift.

Handy.

She held it in front of the guard. "I know Damien is meeting in the sitting room. Where is it on the map?"

"Never gonna tell you, bitch." He smirked, oozing defiance. "Might as well give up."

Alan tensed, ready to hit him again, but Violet shook her head. There was a mug filled with pens and pencils on the desk under the monitors. She upended it, spilling the contents. She carefully chose a sharp blue pencil.

"This will do," she said before ramming it into the guard's thigh.

Alan clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the scream. When the guard had calmed down, he released him.

"You crazy bitch," the guard spat. "I can't believe you did that." He stared at the pencil sticking out of his leg as blood ran down his jeans to the floor beneath him.

Violet snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. "Where is Damien?" she asked again.

"Fuck off," he snapped, his cheeks ruddy and sweat beading on his brow.

Violet reached for the small manual sharpener and picked up the red pencil. "I count ten more pencils. I’ll use them all if you don't tell me where your boss is." She sharpened the pencil, under the careful watch of the guard who couldn't tear his eyes from her.

"I ain’t telling you nothing," he ground out.

Violet didn't bother replying, she just rammed the red pencil into his other thigh.

Again, Alan covered his mouth until he quietened. When he stepped back, the guard was breathing heavily, his face etched with pain.

"Where is Damien?" Violet asked again.

"You're a fucking lunatic. You think you scare me? This is just bullshit. You're wasting your time."

Violet lifted a green pencil. This one was a bit blunt too. "If you don't tell me where your boss is, I'll have to turn you into my human Voodoo doll," she told the guard as she sharpened the pencil. "I'm going to stick pins in you and hope Damien can feel the pain. Do you think he will?"

The guard made a growling sound and struggled against his restraints. "You're dead," he threatened. "The two of you are dead. My team is gonna put a bullet in your brain."

"I'm curious," Violet said. "Is Damien paying you enough to endure this?"

"Get the fuck away from me," the man shouted, somewhat hysterically.

"I wonder how many times I can stick you before I hit an artery," Violet mused. "Do you think it will happen before I run out of pencils?"

"You can always use the pens," Alan said helpfully. "You just need to apply a bit more force."

"Good point." Violet raised her hand to strike. "What do you think? Hand this time?"

"No," the guard shouted. "I'll tell you how to get to him."

She lowered the pencil. "I'm listening," she said.

He gestured to the map with a tense jerk of his head. "Top of the map, room in the middle. The big one facing the beach. That's the sitting room. That's where the boss is having his meeting."

She twirled the pencil between her fingers. "How many guards between here and Damien?"

He watched her movements and gritted his teeth before answering. "Boss has eight in the house, the rest are positioned around the estate."

"And the person he's meeting, how many does he have with him?"