Panic Button by Frazer Lee Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frazer Lee
bastards.”
The Alligator’s face faded from view, replaced by ‘ROUND 2: KISS AND TELL’ displayed in large pink letters against a lurid backdrop of cascading love hearts.
Dave grinned at Jo, licking his lips. “That’s more like it! Kiss and tell. Nice.”
“I guess we aren’t getting off the hook that easily,” Jo said, frowning.
The display dissolved to a rapid montage of webcam video clips. Dozens of faces appeared one after the other on the screens.
“Millions of All2gethr users are online twenty-four-seven,” Alligator continued, “They share their interests, their passions, their ambitions and dreams...”
People of all ages, races and sexes were shown on-screen, peering into their webcams in offices, bedrooms and lounges the world over.
“For some, it is a place to wear disguises, for others it is the only place they can truly reveal themselves...”
The montage drew to a close, holding on the image of a pretty teenage girl. She stared sullenly into her webcam, teenage Emo band idols on the bedroom wall behind her. Tears had made her black kohl eyeliner run in dark rivers down her cheeks.
Jo peered closer at her screen. The image seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t quite place it. Where had she seen that girl before? Jo got the feeling it had been in a music video somewhere. Then the image cut off abruptly, replaced by the Alligator’s rictus grin.
“In this round we are going to find out what you are all like - behind closed doors,” he said.
Dave returned his seat to its upright position. He looked worse for wear, still slugging whiskey from the tumbler. Something resembling apprehension moved across his face. Gwen stretched her arms and ruffled her hair, listening intently to the Alligator’s voice.
A pop-up video window replaced their host’s grinning green face. Grainy hand-held footage was now playing out along with a distorted, echoing audio track.
A figure in torn dirty clothes was on his knees in a dingy cell. A plastic sandbag had been pulled over his head, obscuring his face completely. The terrible whimpering, pleading sounds coming from within the bag were testament to just how terrified he was. The camera tilted and moved, revealing a group of men standing around him, dressed in combat fatigues and balaclavas. They were taking turns to brutally punch and kick the man, some of them gesturing into the camera lens with devil horns and gang signs. As the men goaded their terrified captor, another of their number approached carrying a large gun. Cocking the weapon, he pushed the barrel against the hostage’s forehead.
BANG.
Blood and brain matter exploded from the ruptured sandbag, splashing against the cell wall. The men roared, triumphant, as their victim slumped like a broken doll to the hard stone floor, a dark pool spilling from his head all around him.
“What the actual fuck?” Max said, glancing around at the others.
They looked as shocked as he was and yet, like him, could not tear their eyes away from the footage.
“Jo. You recognise this video.” Alligator’s voice was smooth as silk, heavy as a brick. He was not asking her a question, merely making a statement of fact.
Jo shook her head slightly, mouth shut tight.
“Please answer verbally.”
He can see me, thought Jo, bastard is watching us .
“No, I...”
“That’s not altogether true is it?”
“I... don’t remember.”
The video window snapped closed, the display changing to a list of data. Hundreds of web addresses scrolled up the screen.
“I find that hard to believe,” Alligator countered.
The scrolling stopped and an address, a series of numbers with a secure ‘https://’ prefix, was highlighted.
“You watched this video two months ago. On Tuesday the fifteenth at 22:17 hours, to be precise.”
The list of web data began to
The Alligator’s face faded from view, replaced by ‘ROUND 2: KISS AND TELL’ displayed in large pink letters against a lurid backdrop of cascading love hearts.
Dave grinned at Jo, licking his lips. “That’s more like it! Kiss and tell. Nice.”
“I guess we aren’t getting off the hook that easily,” Jo said, frowning.
The display dissolved to a rapid montage of webcam video clips. Dozens of faces appeared one after the other on the screens.
“Millions of All2gethr users are online twenty-four-seven,” Alligator continued, “They share their interests, their passions, their ambitions and dreams...”
People of all ages, races and sexes were shown on-screen, peering into their webcams in offices, bedrooms and lounges the world over.
“For some, it is a place to wear disguises, for others it is the only place they can truly reveal themselves...”
The montage drew to a close, holding on the image of a pretty teenage girl. She stared sullenly into her webcam, teenage Emo band idols on the bedroom wall behind her. Tears had made her black kohl eyeliner run in dark rivers down her cheeks.
Jo peered closer at her screen. The image seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t quite place it. Where had she seen that girl before? Jo got the feeling it had been in a music video somewhere. Then the image cut off abruptly, replaced by the Alligator’s rictus grin.
“In this round we are going to find out what you are all like - behind closed doors,” he said.
Dave returned his seat to its upright position. He looked worse for wear, still slugging whiskey from the tumbler. Something resembling apprehension moved across his face. Gwen stretched her arms and ruffled her hair, listening intently to the Alligator’s voice.
A pop-up video window replaced their host’s grinning green face. Grainy hand-held footage was now playing out along with a distorted, echoing audio track.
A figure in torn dirty clothes was on his knees in a dingy cell. A plastic sandbag had been pulled over his head, obscuring his face completely. The terrible whimpering, pleading sounds coming from within the bag were testament to just how terrified he was. The camera tilted and moved, revealing a group of men standing around him, dressed in combat fatigues and balaclavas. They were taking turns to brutally punch and kick the man, some of them gesturing into the camera lens with devil horns and gang signs. As the men goaded their terrified captor, another of their number approached carrying a large gun. Cocking the weapon, he pushed the barrel against the hostage’s forehead.
BANG.
Blood and brain matter exploded from the ruptured sandbag, splashing against the cell wall. The men roared, triumphant, as their victim slumped like a broken doll to the hard stone floor, a dark pool spilling from his head all around him.
“What the actual fuck?” Max said, glancing around at the others.
They looked as shocked as he was and yet, like him, could not tear their eyes away from the footage.
“Jo. You recognise this video.” Alligator’s voice was smooth as silk, heavy as a brick. He was not asking her a question, merely making a statement of fact.
Jo shook her head slightly, mouth shut tight.
“Please answer verbally.”
He can see me, thought Jo, bastard is watching us .
“No, I...”
“That’s not altogether true is it?”
“I... don’t remember.”
The video window snapped closed, the display changing to a list of data. Hundreds of web addresses scrolled up the screen.
“I find that hard to believe,” Alligator countered.
The scrolling stopped and an address, a series of numbers with a secure ‘https://’ prefix, was highlighted.
“You watched this video two months ago. On Tuesday the fifteenth at 22:17 hours, to be precise.”
The list of web data began to
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