Title: The Sins You Perceive Are Merely My Virtues
By: Bridget McKennitt
Characters: Warden Hennessey, Hennessey/Case
Word Count: 2675
Summary: Nothing can touch Hennessey. She is more than lucky, she is blessed.
Contains: Choosing not to warn for this fic. Proceed at your own caution. Dubcon, minor violence, femslash, character study
Disclaimer: Death Race is owned by other companies. They are used here without permission, and for entertainment purposes only. No challenge or infringement upon the copyright is intended, nor should any be inferred.
Author's Notes: Written for twtd for Yuletide 2009.
The lobby of Bourne Inc was as expensive looking and magnificent as it ever was. There were fake plants nestled in between leather seats with priceless artwork hanging on the walls. Nothing said success like priceless artwork and it worked on clients who visited Bourne Inc. However, that was not Hennessey. She waited in front of the heavy double doors, hands tucked behind her back, with a stoic expression on her face.
The doors opened and another woman in a smart blue suit gestured to Hennessey.
"He'll see you now."
Hennessey walked past the woman and entered the spacious office of Bourne Inc's CEO. The man wasn't at his mahogany desk, but instead standing by large glass windows and staring out at the view of the bay.
"Mr. Reynolds," she said.
"Ah, Hennessey. Good. I'm sure you've read the latest financial reports of Terminal Island Prison. Those cage fights of yours are slowly, but surely slipping in ratings. Low ratings means low profit margins for Bourne Inc, and that is something I cannot tolerate." He turned around. "Either find a way to make money with Terminal Island, or the next event we host from there will be your execution." He smiled, something small and nasty. "Do I make myself clear, Warden Hennessey?"
She cleared her throat and stood a little straighter. "Perfectly, Mr. Reynolds. I already have an idea in mind to raise our ratings."
"Not ours. Yours. This entire operation rests on your shoulders. I expect a two percent increase in ratings by the end of next month and a fifty percent increase in one year. Think you can do it?"
"Of course, Mr. Reynolds. You will find that my plan is more than sufficient to bring in money to Bourne Inc."
Mr. Reynolds turned his back on Hennessey, a clear sign that she was dismissed, and she walked out of his office. She needed a plan.
"Mr. Ulrich, get me the reports concerning the televised cage fights. I want everything, from viewer information to the convicts involved in the fights. We have a month to earn a two percent increase in ratings and I want to have a plan in motion ASAP." She glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye. "By the way, Mr. Ulrich, it goes without saying that your head will roll if we do not hit the target goal."
"Yes, Warden." He swiftly nodded and just as Ulrich was about to walk away, Hennessey called out.
"Oh, and Mr. Ulrich? I want you to call the warden in the female correctional facility and have a prisoner known as Case brought to me. You know the one."
"Of course, Warden."
Hennessey sat down at her desk and began checking her email. There were several inmates across the country that she wanted to transfer to Terminal Island. Only the cruelest and toughest inmates would do for her prison, as well as the entertainment she provided for the masses. She needed a steady supply to replace her gladiators. The death rate from her cage fights drained her population steadily.
After she emailed her approval for her top ten inmates, she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her hand. She needed her session with Case to relieve stress.
The knock against the railing made Hennessey look up to see Ulrich bring in one of the female prisoners from the other prison. Her favorite female prisoner. Hennessey pushed aside her paperwork and linked her fingers together as she rested her arms on her desk.
"Case. What a pleasure to see you here again. Have you been on your best behavior?"
Case crossed her arms over her chest, steadily not looking at Hennessey.
Hennessey glanced at Ulrich and quirked her eyebrow. Ulrich inclined his head and left them alone. She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. "Now Case, why the sudden rudeness? You know better than that. Haven't we had long talks about your behavior?"
"Yes, Warden." Case dropped her arms and sighed. "I'm sorry."
She walked around her desk and placed her hand on Case's shoulder, trailing it along to her back. "I have a task in mind for you."
"Good. You're learning. Meet me in my private office. I'll have Mr. Ulrich take you there." Hennessey circled back around until she was in front of Case. "Go into the closet and wear something pretty for me. You know what I like."
"Yes, Warden." Case briefly met Hennessey's eyes before looking away again.
Hennessey turned away to look at the monitors. "Go. I will be there in five minutes."
Case walked away and Hennessey allowed one last glance at Case's backside before sitting back at her desk.
She walked slowly to her private office with her briefcase filled with the information Ulrich brought her, far away from the cameras that infiltrated every level of her prison. It would be good to let Case sweat it out, let all the delicious fear and bad thoughts run through her body before hand.
Hennessey smirked to herself before pushing open the doors.
Case waited on top of her mahogany desk in a tight nurse uniform. Her legs were crossed and she leaned back on her arms. "Evening, Warden," she said, in an attempt to make her voice husky and sexy. "I'm here for your pleasure."
"Indeed you are." Hennessey sat in her plush chair and spread her legs. "Keep yourself busy while I go over these charts."
Case slid off the desk and walked around to kneel in front of Hennessey. There was a pained, hurt expression on her face, but that only made Hennessey smirk deeper. Nothing got her off harder than that hurt expression combined with Case's reluctant licks.
While Case began licking at her clit, Hennessey opened her briefcase and pored over the charts from her caged fights. People loved watching them in the beginning, but now the ratings were indeed dropping just as Mr. Reynolds stated. She needed something to grab the audience's attention again. Something worth a two percent increase.
She noted that the match with the highest rating was the one that was considered the most bloodiest. She recalled that fight. Jenkins killed his opponent with his bare hands, smashing the man's head against the floor until there was barely any resemblance left to a human being. The audience ate it up. A good majority of people paid to watch the repeat of Jenkins smashing Vaughn's head and the bits of his brains splattering across the camera lens.
Perhaps that's what she needed, more violence. A shudder went through Hennessey as Case grew bold and slipped a finger inside her as she tongued her clit. She spread her legs wider, giving Case more access, and continued to think.
"Perhaps a free for all brawl amidst an obstacle course would do the trick," she said aloud. "Give the lucky inmates weapons that they'll have to find and a destination. First man alive and across the finish line wins." Hennessey picked up a pen and wrote the idea down. There were still a lot of variables she'd have to work out, but it was a possibility. Whether or not it was a two percent ratings increase sort of possibility, that she did not know.
Hennessey hated the unknown.
"Get me off, Case," she murmured. "Make it spectacular or I am going to find myself writing a letter to your warden how tragic it was that you had an accident." She ran her fingers through Case's long black hair. "No one would believe your tears, not from a cop killer like yourself."
As she continued to stroke Case's hair, another idea came to her. She was friendly with the warden of the female correctional facility, or at least as friendly as she could be all things considered, and the other warden had no problems with Hennessey borrowing her female inmates. Perhaps she could work that into her entertainment broadcasts. Beautiful women were always a big hit with audiences.
"Is everything ready for our broadcast, Mr. Ulrich? I want nothing but perfection." She scanned the monitors with a sharp gaze before focusing on Ulrich. "This is a very important match and there can be no mistakes."
"Everything is set and ready to go, ma'am. The chosen inmates are waiting behind the gates until we start the broadcast."
"Good. And the surprise?"
"Awaiting a push of the button, as soon as you give the word."
Hennessey nodded and turned her attention back to the monitors. She could see, in the corner monitor, how restless they were in their starting areas.
"Start the broadcast. Let's not keep the fans waiting."
Her operator did so and the announcer's voice began to speak.
"Welcome to Terminal Island Correctional Facility. We bring you the best in graphic violence and mayhem. If you are under the age of eighteen, please turn your channels elsewhere.
Today's match up is something unique. Instead of another cage fight between two modern day gladiators, we have set up a course across Terminal Island. The contestants must race against the clock and each other to reach the finish line.
There are weapons hidden among the course for the contestants to use to survive the fight of their lives. There can only be one winner in this race."
The camera angles flashed from the credits Hennessey put together to the live shots of the inmates in the starting area. A few minutes later, the gates opened and they ran out.
It didn't matter to Hennessey who won the race, just as long as the audience enjoyed it. She smiled as the inmates crossed into the section where they could see each other. Just as she suspected, they tore at each other like animals. The ratings slowly crept upward.
"Let out the women." It was a beauty of an idea that she came up with. The women signaled where the weapons were placed. They were well out of range of the inmates, but they did their job well of looking beautiful. "Make sure the cameras pan on them. I want close ups."
As the race continued on, Hennessey directed the actions like an orchestra conductor with smooth and precise commands. With every blood shed and brutal blow, the ratings climbed. Towards the middle of the race, with half of the competing inmates still alive and mobile, Hennessey glanced at Ulrich. "Release the surprise, Mr. Ulrich."
As a few inmates broke forward from the pack, the ground began to shake and suddenly a wall filled with spikes shot up, snaring people, before pulling them back into the ground. Their screams echoed for a few second before cutting off while the rest of the inmates continued to move ahead.
There were several of those traps ahead in the race course, and each time someone died from them, the ratings spiked higher. It was magnificent.
As soon as the race was over and a winner was announced, the phone on her desk rang and she turned away from the monitors to answer it.
"Hennessey," she answered.
"Reynolds here. I just watched the show. Congratulations are in order. You get to live."
She snorted quietly enough so it wouldn't pick up over the phone. "Thank you, sir. My next idea is going to be the next big thing for our corporation. We'll pick up fifty percent in ratings and then some."
"That's good to hear. There's no point in keeping either you or the prison if neither are making us money."
"Understood. You have nothing to worry about, sir. You'll find that I am blessed when the odds are against me." She hung up the phone and glanced at Ulrich. "We'll need to reset the obstacle course and change where the surprises and weapons are placed. There's no point in allowing the inmates to become complacent about these things."
Ulrich handed her a stack of files just as the bus with the new inmates rolled in. She took them from him and tucked them under her arm. "Give me a rundown, Mr. Ulrich."
He started rattling off information as each inmate got off the bus. At the third inmate though, she raised her hand to cut him off. "Repeat that again."
"Of course, ma'am. His name is Roger Damon. His crime was killing twenty pedestrians during a street race."
She eyed him. "How good of a racer is he?"
"According to reports, very good."
"How many of our inmates have skills behind the wheel?"
Ulrich flustered at Hennessey's question and gestured uselessly. "I don't know. I suppose quite a few."
"Good. Bring me the names of our inmates who are skilled drivers and start having the guards clear out the warehouse on the north end of the island. I have a plan." Just as she turned away, she called out. "Oh, and get me the names of the inmates with mechanic skills."
"I know the perfect thing to replace our cage fights. We've already started the process by turning the format from a gladiator arena to a race."
It was perfect. All she needed was time to build up the race course and find the rest of her drivers. Fast cars, bloodshed and violence, and loud explosions would be her draw. In the meanwhile, she still had her obstacle course to profit off of.
Five months later
Hennessey smirked as she eyed Case from head to toe in her favorite outfit. "You were marvelous as usual during the obstacle course. There were quite a few people willing to pay to access the camera on you."
Case kept perfectly still as Hennessey reached out to brush her fingers along Case's shoulder. "You deserve a reward. Why not strip that outfit off and let me take care of you?"
Hennessey walked around until she was behind Case and began helping her out of her clothes. First the revealing top, then the short skirt. She walked back around so she could face Case and smiled. "Beautiful. Come now, speak up. I'm in a good mood tonight and I want my girl to be the same."
Case forced a smile on her face, they both knew it was forced, but Hennessey allowed it to happen. Like she had said, she was in a good mood. "May I help you out of your clothes, Warden?"
"Of course. I like it when you take the initiative."
She smiled fondly as Case stripped Hennessey of her clothes and when she was done, Hennessey pulled Case towards the couch. "You always know how to please me, don't you?" Case straddled Hennessey's lap and Hennessey rested her hands on Case's hips. "I want to do the same. The obstacle course is becoming extinct and will be replaced by what I call my Death Race. The drivers will need navigators, beautiful navigators, to help them get through the races. The job is more hands on, but quite dangerous. Possibly fatal."
Case tilted her head to the side, her expression wary. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Simple. You have the option of becoming a navigator for my Death Race, and in turn when your driver wins five races and walks free, so will you." Hennessey nipped at Case's shoulder. "Or you can remain in prison for the rest of your life, continuing as you have been doing. Think on it. You have until the next televised fight to decide."
"I'll be your navigator." Case was quick with her reply and Hennessey smirked at it.
"Good. The rest of the details will be decided on later, but I will let your warden aware of your decision. That's enough talk of business, however. I prefer to spend my time with you doing far more pleasant things."
As Hennessey locked lips with Case, grinding herself up against her, she began to plot how to keep Case within prison. Her driver, whoever he was, would never win five races to let the both of them free.