Free Heller's Revenge by J.D. Nixon

well. There was something for everyone
and the two worlds of fantasy and simulated real life coexisted
surprisingly well. It was as if The Sims and World of
Warcraft had met, fallen in love and had a baby. It had just
been named the most addictive online game ever developed at a
recent pop culture awards show.
    Like everyone I knew, I’d played
it for a while a few years ago and had loved it, but hadn’t been
able to afford the monthly fee to keep my membership going. The
character I’d created was a hot, sword-wielding tough magic chick –
great body, skimpy black leather shorts and top, impossibly huge
boobs, knee-high black boots, masses of long black hair, huge
sapphire blue eyes and lush red lips. She could kick arse with the
best of them using either her sword or her spells, but also liked
to play the piano, clean the bathroom and cook Lobster
Thermidor.
    Yes, it was fairly tragic, but
it helped me through a very dull patch in my life where I wasn’t
getting any action or acting work and had to beg my parents for
money to survive. I’d even been driven to ‘unexpectedly’ visiting
them at dinnertime to cadge a free meal off them, I was that broke.
I’m sure they wouldn’t have been impressed to know that some of the
money they gave me for living expenses went towards a virtual game. Sorry Mum and Dad , I thought guiltily, I swear I spent
the rest of it on food and rent!
    Daniel continued speaking after
we settled down from that exciting news. “Mr Cockburn is returning
to the city to accept an Innovation in Technology award from the
Prime Minister. He’ll be over here for a couple of weeks and wants
a security presence during his stay. Nothing noticeable though, he
requested, so I guess that counts you out Clive!”
    Clive nodded gruffly. He was
built like a tank and was what you would definitely classify as
‘noticeable’.
    “Most of our security men are
noticeable though. They’re all pretty big blokes,” Sid mused.
    “Is he interviewing other
companies?” Heller asked.
    “Nope. He said he chose us
because we were small and discreet and we’d been recommended by
Alston Paul.”
    Heller nodded. That was a client
before my time, but I knew that Alston Paul was the bigwig CEO of a
multinational mining company who visited to the city early last
year to sign a deal to buy a majority share in one of the nation’s
leading coal mines. It had been an extremely controversial
arrangement at the time, rushed through parliament and resulting in
mass demonstrations from the angry mining staff. Heller’s had provided a high profile security detail to protect Paul during
his visit and it had clashed on a number of occasions with the
disgruntled employees. There had been a lot of TV coverage of the
battles, which perversely had only garnered Heller more
business.
    I was glad that I hadn’t been
working for him then, as my sympathies would have all been with the
employees. They were right to protest in the end as most of them
were consequently restructured out of their jobs, replaced by
cheaper foreign workers. I’d had a heated discussion with Heller
about his role in the whole affair one night, but he’d remained
impassive about the consequences. To him it was merely another
assignment.
    “It’s just business to me,
Matilda. I don’t care who is right or wrong, who is rewarded or who
is robbed, as long as the job is done professionally and I am
paid,” he had declared with impatient finality, disregarding my
emotional arguments. I remember then storming off the rooftop in an
enormous self-righteous huff, much to his bemusement. It had taken
me a whole day to calm down. He’s often cool and detached like
that. It infuriates me, because I’m the opposite.
    “I will take Matilda with me to
the interview with Mr Cockburn,” Heller decided. “She’s soft and
unthreatening.”
    “Hey!” I protested. “I am not unthreatening! I’ve been working out a lot. Just look at
these muscles. They’d scare any