Red eyes narrowed. She was happy to gun people down as long as they weren't under fifteen but rape for money? That was pretty sick. It also sounded just like some of the spoiled corporate nobility who couldn't get their thrills without some serious extremes. Crazy. It sounded like the girl needed counseling more than a death sentence.<br/><br/>"Ew," came Cleo's voice from the kitchen.<br/><br/>"I guess it's good to enjoy your work..." Beretta grumbled. Despite the horrific revelation of his regular means of employment, he was obviously not here to cause trouble. He wanted answers and so did she.<br/><br/>Cleo returned with two steaming cups of coffee, sitting on the arm rest of Beretta's chair rather intimately as she put her gun aside and handed the cup to her. She took the cigar from Beretta's mouth, taking a drag while the gray tasted the coffee. Cleo's green eyes met Carth's, the green turning to a deep blue, then an ice blue, her gaze becoming cold. Beretta noted the kitchen knife stuck in the back of her kimono's belt, ready for Beretta's use should Carth prove unfriendly.<br/><br/>"Sounds to me like there's an internal conflict brewing. How big it is remains to be seen. Or maybe its some crusader trying to get Hex-Corp in trouble with the Corporate Oligarchy. I don't much care either way but as long as I have this," she pulled the data stick from her pocket, "I'm a target. I should have gone straight to my handler with it..."