We picked the professor up near his college campus on what seemed to be his way to the close elementary school. Halfway to the motel, I take off the bag over his head. His startled wide brown eyes looked from me to my partner, and back again.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked loudly, anxiety and fear ringing in his voice. His hands struggled at the ropes tied around them. I smiled in response. Let me just say, I love when my job gives me more details than necessary. I took out my gun and pressed it into the space between his thighs.
"If you walk inside with us quietly, you get to keep him. Your choice," I explained to the professor, watching the realization sweep across his face as my partner pulled up in front of the motel.
"Frida, don't torture the poor guy," my partner scolded me, putting the truck into park and turning the engine off. "Besides, if you get blood all over my seats, I'll beat your ass."
"Fine," I sighed. "Let's go," I mentioned for the professor to get out of the truck behind me, putting my coat over his hands to hide the rope. I led him up to the door with my gun at his back. My partner opened the door and we walked in, as he was closing it behind him he put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the handle. As I was waiting for my partner to drag over the chair from the desk, the professor decided to make a very, very stupid move. He tried to run. I tripped him with my foot and hit him over the head with my gun. He fell to the ground, unconscious. I looked at my partner and he looked at me. We exchanged a sigh. It wasn't uncommon, the fight or flight response was only natural. My partner put the chair into place and we lifted the man up into it. I grabbed the rope from his hands and tied it around his chest and the chair, making a very secure knot at the back. My partner grabbed two pairs of handcuffs and cuffed each wrist to the arms of the chair. I grabbed a plastic cup by the sink and filled it with cold water.
"You want to do the honors?" I ask my partner, offering him the cup.
"Nah, it's so much funnier when you do it," he grinned. I shrugged and splashed the water on the professor's bleeding face. I hit him harder than I thought. Oh well. The water did the trick. He woke up with a start, gasping with wide eyes, he looked like a fish out of water.
"Professor Thaddeus Hodge," my partner started, "My name is Hades, this is Frida. You have been accused with undeniable proof of pedophilia. How do you plead?"
"What? Who are you people? What is this?" he started yelling, fighting against the restraints. I sighed. I leaned down so my face was level with his.
"You now how in every major trial there's a jury? Well, the feds haven't caught up to you yet. We have. We are the executioners." I leaned back into a standing position. Turning to my partner, I instructed him, "Again, Hades."
"Professor Thaddeus Hodge. You have been accused with undeniable proof of pedophilia. How do you plead?" He asked again. The professor just stared at him, realization setting in.