He sits at his desk, shuffling through the data-films in front of him, finding the one he wants. He sets it down on top of the desk, taking a laser pen he begins to click on icons on the flimsy and they begin to open up.
It's research that he's doing. While reading a passage he reaches for the ashtray.
He takes a lit cigar that is smoldering away, he puffs it back to the inferno it once was, blowing out the blue smoke into the room, the sweet smell of the deathbringer lingered for a bit.
Buzz.
Control leans forward and presses a button on the intercom.
"Yes."
"We have the feed coming in now, sir."
"Transfer it here,"
"Okay"
He swivels in his chair, he presses another button and the wall behind him begins to part like the red sea, revealing 13 television monitors. Images constantly playing out various scenes of life, death, love and boredom flood into the room. Control's eyes focus on screen 11. A frown appears on his face as the video feed comes in.
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