[ WP ] The measure of a man 's real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out .

Inside a seedy motel room outside an the airport, a heavy-set man in his forties looked down at the picture of his target. She was young, bright, and had no friends or family to speak of. She was one of those girls that you know had all the potential and innocence in the world, but not the smallest bit of opportunity in her life. Other than Saul, nobody seemed to care what was ever going to happen to her. He scratched his greying beard with his greasy hands and muttered something under his breath about how pretty this girl was. He opened up his briefcase one last time to make sure everything was in order. The contract was still there, guaranteeing a few million dollars in payment for his deed. Enough to live the rest of a life out without regret. There was his revolver, to finish the job when everything was in order. He picked it up and loaded a single round into the chamber. There would be no missing at the range he intended to close the deal. There were also drugs here, the kind that make you forget what's going on and lose your head and do anything that was suggested without fear. Whoever took that pill would be under the complete control of the first suggestion they heard. And finally, next to all of it, a video recorder. 
 
 Deborah was dirt poor and had always been. She rented a small room at a daily rate in a crap part of town out by the airport. She cleaned rooms for a little money, but she could hardly afford the rent and to keep herself fed. Most people never saw her as anything more than a rat living in squalor in the places nobody would ever go. She had been taken advantage of one way or another her entire life. When the loud knock came to her door, she was terrified. A man on the other side called out her name. `` Deborah, I need to speak to you about something.'' She did n't recognize the voice. She peered through the peep-hole and saw an older gentleman in a business suit. He had a classic brief case in his right hand. He looked intimidating. Stern. She backed away from the door. He knocked again. 
 
 After a few more moments, the door seemed to unlock on its own. Someone had given the man a key. He stepped into the room carefully, as if overly concerned that someone would be found dead or dying around the corner. When he saw Deborah on the floor curled up into a ball he tried to gently reassure her. She had heard gunshots the previous night. She was spooked. The man stepped back and called for the motel attendant. A famiar face. A young-ish boy with a goatee and a ponytail that worked the night shift. 
 
 `` M'am'' the boy said. `` This fella is with the insurance company. Something happened to one of our guests in the room down the hall. He's got business with ya.'' 
 
 The man stepped forward again. `` Deborah? Deb? Can I call you Deb? I'm Pierce with Barnard Daily Insurance. There appears to have been an incident with a man down the hall. He was a customer of ours. He had a life insurance policy. I do n't know if you knew him, but his name was Saul. Maybe you've seen him around?'' 
 
 She had n't. She knew nothing about this supposed person. 
 
 `` Well, Deb, I'm sorry. This is a peculiar circumstance. The man had taken out a life insurance policy some time ago. He had changed the beneficiary a few times over the years. He most recently changed it to your name. I ca n't say why or how, but the man has since then taken his own life. I'm... um... sorry for your loss. This is a grave matter, but you are the sole beneficiary on Saul's policy.''
