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"You didn't have to do that" the Brunette said whilst holding back her anger.
"So? He wouldn't have talked if I did't." The tall one said.
"But hes dead now. Primms deputy is dead and now we have to do damage control"
"No,we do not. It is not our job to baby sit them and save them. They have guns,they just need to have the willpower to do it themselves" she replied coldly and then she added "Would you rather have me drag him to the generator?"
"No,that was noisy enough."
"Ha,what,the smell of burning hair and flesh get to you 'Ms Cold Hard Bitch?' I figure a round of roulette was fair. After all,we are in Vegas baby. He bet his life to tell the truth. His roll landed on a loaded chamber"

The youngest sat silent as she watched the scene unfold. The tall one,kneeling on the counter,was the "Information Extraction Specialist" of their team. She had a reputation for being particually unfeeling. Especially to people she felt deserved it. Psychological and physical torture were no problem to her. She especially hated rapists and raiders. She loved to take her time with her target,but today,she was unable to,as time was money.

"I gave him a chance to hope that he could get lucky and get out. Unfourtantly for him,the hammer fell on the loaded one,and now,his brain is turned into mushy pink fingerpaints for the locals here"

"Sometimes I worry about you." the brunette said to the tall one.

The tall one knew they worried about her. She was playing her part. She was meant to instill fear into everyone. She didn't care,she was apathetic. Her psychologist labeled her a danger to herself and society around her. Life was life. You win some,you lose some. Some people burn out and fizzle away,others just explode with the force of thousands of suns.

It wasn't that she didn't care,it was she was unable to care. She didn't know how to feel emotion. So the task of information extraction came of ease to her. Especially since she was a woman,and most men tended to think with the wrong head,she often got what she needed.

She never felt sorry for what she did,in anything. She never felt anger,joy, Ecstasy,love,lust,or anything. Her eyes conveyed all anyone needed to know about her,there was nothing inside her,as if something was switched off from the beginning. All that was there was nothing. A black expanse inside her being that everything was consumed with nothing returned. But she was no parasite. Nor was she a symbiotic person. She simply existed,taking in everything she could.

Did she enjoy killing she asked herself? No,killing was a job. Money is money. It is better to do this,than whore yourself out. But a part of her always nagged at the back of her mind that she really did enjoy pulling the trigger.