Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Midnight. 24 Hour Pancake Shoppe
“Soli Deo Gloria needs The Cadre to find two more brides,” The Man said. “Can you get them?”
“We’ve delivered two in the past two weeks, one only days ago,” Olivier Thomas reminded him. “More than that too soon will get police notice and neither of us wants that.”
He’d selected a booth in the back close to the kitchen. Up front, Drunks and some of the strippers and bouncers from Baby Dolls filled at least a dozen tables. From the noise they were making and amount of food they were gobbling, the waitresses were too busy to notice him, and The Man seated across from him. The Cadre client called himself “The Man.” He was demanding, obstinate and truth be told, more than a little bit scary and The Cadre knew everything about him.
And damn, if Olivier didn’t need a cigarette.
“Do you want Soli Deo Gloria’s money or not?” The Man’s lowered voice held more than a hint of a threat.
Has the fool forgotten who The Cadre is? His jaw aching from the force of his smile and his longing for that cigarette, Olivier said, “You say you only want girls who are no younger than ten. Girls that age are closely watched, especially now. But I will reach out to my contact and see if there are sellers. With school closing soon for the holidays, there is bound to be increased availability, but it takes time to arrange transfer from seller to you without drawing attention.”
“Delay will not be helpful or profitable to either party.” The Man persisted. “Some of the elders are growing impatient.”
“But The Cadre is still new to East Tennessee and Knoxville,” Olivier reminded him. “Our transactions have been from a greater distance and we’re still learning this new territory.” He’d only arrived in Knoxville himself a few weeks ago when the community was still reeling from the rescue of those underage strippers.
The Man’s expression hardened. “And if we threaten to take our business elsewhere?”
Olivier smiled. “You are free to do so,” he said smoothly. “But why take the chance on dealing with someone else when you personally have dealt with us for so long?” When the man remained silent, Olivier asked, “You were satisfied with our arrangement for us to supply Soli with four child brides by the end of the year. We have done that. What’s changed?”
“Dannielle Blake’s reporting is a threat to Soli,” The Man said. “Her article on child trafficking is attracting attention and Soli Deo Gloria does not need anyone investigating anything that might lead them to us. We must have child brides and Dannielle Blake could put a stop to that.”
“Are you asking The Cadre to eliminate the Blake woman?”
“You could be well compensated.” The offer could have been made with generosity, but The Man’s voice remained cold.
Sliding out of the booth, The Man rose, buttoned his cashmere overcoat and put on his black trilby. “Soli Deo Gloria is paying The Cadre very well for finding our brides,” he repeated, and the malice in his voice was unmistakable. “And because of that, we expect results. We will expect to hear from you within the week about a new girl.”
He left without a backward glance. From the level of noise at the front of the restaurant, more drunks and strippers had arrived and a whole new party was getting started. Olivier forced himself to drink a cup of coffee he didn’t really want to be sure The Man was gone before paying the bill and leaving a generous tip for the waitress for taking up a table that ordered only coffee.
Outside he lit up and greedily sucked the tobacco into his lungs. He’d long ago given up trying to kick the habit and it was his only real vice. No drugs, no booze, nothing that would take him off his game.
But damn. Did Soli Deo Gloria not realize you don’t fuck with or threaten The Cadre? Olivier had been with them for years and that was one of the first lessons he learned. They might move you up slow, but work well for them, follow orders and you’d be well rewarded. Cross them or fail them–well, you’d better have your funeral arrangements completed, ‘cause you were about to be very dead.
Truth be told, Olivier thought as he started his walk to his car, Soli Deo Gloria–to God Alone the Glory–was the weirdest bunch of wackos he’d ever met–and he’d met a lot. Religious nuts who believed men were the heads of their families, keeping wives under your thumb and having as many kids as possible, hopefully sons.
But this child bride thing was the weirdest of all. Marrying girls soon after they started their periods so they could start having babies right away to keep their group’s population going? Jeez, you think a guy would want a woman who knew what she was doing in the sack. The Cadre’s intel said the Soli usually took the girls at ten and trained them for about two years so by the time they had their first two menstrual period, they’d be ready to become wives. Weird, weird, weird.
And they paid damn good money for “fresh ones.” Ten thousand bucks a pop, sometimes more. The Cadre had recently placed him “undercover” with several local organizations to find some locals who could help get young girls. It was a win-win situation. Most of the time.
But if “The Man” didn’t realize The Cadre knew exactly who he was, and that he’d missed killing–or having someone do it for him–Danni Blake twice, then he was very arrogant or very stupid, or both. And both was a dangerous combination. Olivier didn’t much care for killing. Too many risks, too messy. He had no personal quarrel with Danni Blake and would prefer to keep it that way.
Because The Cadre would take care of Danni Blake in their own time. Because she would lead them to Brotherhood Protectors, and they would cease to be a threat once and for all.
And then The Cadre would finally control the crime world in East Tennessee. But now, Olivier needed to find another girl someone wanted to sell so he could sell her to Soli Deo Gloria. Unlocking his car, he slid in and consulted his phone before driving away.