Page 6 of Broken Empire
“Oh my god,” I whispered. My guts were churning, and my face had grown hot with a mixture of panic and disgust. “I… I thought snuff films were just an urban legend.”
“All urban legends stem from something real, Shay.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and clasped my hands on my lap. “This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening,” I whispered over and over. My mind was whirling like crazy now, disassociating from the madness I was hearing. I simply couldn’t believe it. It was too dark. Too awful. Tooevil.
Robert hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up again. “Get it together, Shay,” he said sharply. “It’s happening.”
I vehemently shook my head. “No. It can’t be real. Itcan’t.”
“Sorry, but it is, and you need to accept it one way or another,” he said. “You know, some people are extremely creative with the death scenarios they dream up for their subjects. Maybe I’ll let you watch one of the upcoming ones. You’ll believe me then, won’t you?”
I lifted a shaky hand to my mouth, certain I was going to vomit at any second. “I don’t understand,” I said. “How can you do this?”
“Quite easily. Before the internet, we sent video tapes through the postal system. We still do that sometimes, as it’s actually a very safe method. Totally untraceable if you do it properly.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I meant… how can you do this to people? How can you let them die for entertainment?”
Robert lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Quite easily.”
“You’re sick,” I muttered, slowly shaking my head. “Totally fucking sick.”
“Perhaps. But the money makes up for any guilt I might feel otherwise, and that money translates directly to power. That’s how the world works, whether you like it or not.” He smiled. “How do you think I got my job in DC?”
I looked him in the eye. “How long have you been doing it?” I asked. “This… this stuff, I mean.”
“Let’s see.” He furrowed his brows. “I joined the Schöneberg Group when I was twenty-two, so that’s twenty-six years for me personally. But the group has existed since 1972.”
“How many people have you killed?”
“Me? None, unless you count my time in the Hellfire Club when I was in college.” Robert smiled thinly and cocked his head. “We don’t get our hands dirty in the Schöneberg Group. We take care of the business-related side of things instead, and we hire people to do the nasty stuff for us.”
“So… that’s why the organization hired the Riordans and Vandenbergs?”
“Yes. They provided men to do all the dirty work for us on the East Coast.” He paused and sniffed. “Obviously, we have another group working for us now that the money-grubbing Vandenbergs have gone away. A less entitled group.”
I looked down at the floor, still unable to believe what I was hearing.
“I know this has come as a big shock to you, Shay, but I promise, I’m telling the truth,” Robert said. “You can’t tell anyone about any of this now that you’re stuck here, so I have no reason to lie to you, do I?”
I swallowed thickly and looked up again. “How many others are here right now?”
“Including you there are twenty-three. But that’s just here. We have twenty chapters in the States, and another two in Europe. So there are other people in other buildings as well.”
“How many people are there every year?”
Robert tapped his chin. “Around two thousand, maybe?”
My eyes widened.Holy shit.Two thousand people maimed and killed for other people’s viewing pleasure every single year. It was unbelievably sick. Unbelievably profitable for the Schöneberg Group too, no doubt, seeing as they organized everything and presumably took the biggest cut.
“Why does the Group do it?” I asked. “Your members are already rich and well-connected before they join, aren’t they? So why can’t you just make money in a legitimate way?”
“Legal businesses and moneymaking schemes have lows as well as highs, but the red and black room business only has highs,” Robert said. ‘There’salwaysa market for it. Always people who are willing to pay exorbitant amounts to see other people getting killed.”
Nausea made my head spin all over again. “Where do you get the people from?” I asked. I hated hearing all of this stuff, but not knowing anything was far worse.
“We get them from all over the country. Our workers can easily snatch people off the street when they’re alone and vulnerable,” Robert said. “We have certain spots we prefer, though. There’s actually one up at our lovely alma mater.”
“You mean Bellingham?”
