Books written by Ray Sullivan

Sunday, 29 January 2012

Project: Evil - First Friday Brunch part 1

Project: Evil Chapter Four - First Friday Brunch part 1
Brian rushed down the corridor, aware that he'd taken twice as long as he'd allowed to find the board-room where the Friday Brunch meetings were held.  It hadn't helped that he couldn't find his way out of his own office – he knew he'd passed his own pod at least three times.

He found the board-room and, as expected, the doors shut.  From behind he could hear a drone so he knew the meeting had begun.  He checked his dress, the mad dash to find the meeting room had ruffled his otherwise immaculate PJs so he spent a few seconds pulling at the jacket hem and flattening down the fabric.  Deciding he'd tidied himself up sufficiently he rapped smartly on the door and stepped inside.

O'Feld sat at the top of the board-room table, his white jacket slung on the ground beside his chair revealing a white singlet vest contrasted by the shoulder holster worn under it.  Daw sat with his arms behind his head, a multi-coloured Bandolier across his chest.  The Head of Diversity sat with one leg on the table, a stocking rolled down to her ankle and the Health and Safety man wore a jacket straight out of the punk movement with razor blades sewn onto the lapels.  Everyone else was dressed just an inappropriately, including one wearing an eye patch and a pirate's hat. 'Head of Security,' thought Brian as he realised the drone had stopped.  His head raced for a few seconds until the penny dropped.

'It's dress-down Friday,' he declared.  O'Feld smiled and waved him to his chair before putting the drone back on the stand.

'I'm guessing you never got that email.  Welcome to your first Friday Brunch.' he said, pulling on the cord attached to the drone's engine several times before it caught.  A flash of ignited rocket fuel spread across the table length, searing several eyebrows as the drone accelerated forward and smashed through the window, scattering glass everywhere.  Somewhere in the near distance in Central London the drone exploded, bringing down an ageing tower block.

Briefly the meeting introduced themselves in descending order of usefulness – the various Heads of Department, Engineers, Designers, Rocket Scientists, thugs, scum, dross and HR professionals.  Brian nodded to them all, trying to remember the names and faces, especially of the thugs in case he ran into any of them outside of work.  O'Feld called the meeting back to order.

'Now that Mr Richards has found our little meeting room perhaps we ought to spend a little time discussing world domination,' he suggested.  Daw coughed, tapping the agenda in front of him.  'Or perhaps we should follow the agenda,' said O'Feld, resignedly.  Daw pulled his papers closer to himself as he addressed the meeting.

'There's been some criticism regarding the attrition rate on induction days,' he said. The Head of Facilities piped up.

'And the increase in summary executions is causing problems with our contract cleaning arrangements.  The contractor doesn't mind disposing of the odd slain henchman but the cleaning of carpets, walls, furniture and associated upholstery is eating into the time they've been contracted to work.  The last induction created an inordinate amount of work cleaning up afterwards,' he finished with.'  O'Feld looked around the room.

'Ideas, people?' he asked, exasperated.

'Pay the contractors for more hours,' suggested the Head of Security, moving the patch across to the other eye.  Daw looked up angrily.

'That hardly addresses the waste of recruitment hours my staff put in,' he said, growling.  O'Feld held a hand up.  'Let's not get all worked up, there's bound to be a pragmatic solution here,' he said, stroking his cat absentmindedly.

'How about we slay some of the contract cleaners until they stop complaining,' suggested the Head of Security, watching Daw very carefully, 'or we get Daw to recruit some no-hoper candidates – guys he'd probably have slain as part of the paper sift.  Just let them attend induction, slay them there, pay some overtime to the contractors.'  Daw looked quite interested and O'Feld was bored with the subject.

The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

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