Blaine
SOLO DOLO (NIGHTMARE) - KID CUDI
The facade of the disused warehouse is nondescript. Unassuming. To most, it looks abandoned. Exactly the impression we want to give. The less imposing our boltholes are, the less likely we’ll be found.
If Spyder disapproves of the entourage I’m bringing into our latest base of operations, he doesn’t admit it. I’d have his tongue for less. No one dares to protest the sombre group trailing behind me with Ember limping along at the rear in Hyland’s protective embrace.
“Trouble, boss?” Spyder drops his cigarette then crushes it with his boot.
“You could say that. Where is Raye?”
“In the office going over this week’s exports.”
“Good. Send a couple of rats out to keep watch then join us there. We have important business to discuss.”
“Loud and clear.” He flashes his teeth at the team in a not-so friendly manner. “Hello again.”
Gun cocked, Warner boasts a wearisome frown. “Control your guard dog, Blaine. I’d hate to put a bullet in the wrong person’s face.”
“Rude,” Spyder remarks.
“Don’t mind him,” I dismiss. “It’s been a long day.”
“We can all make threats about flying bullets, you know.”
After inputting the code to disengage the door lock, I gesture for the Anaconda Team to enter ahead of me. Once they’re all in, I seal the entrance shut behind us, leaving Spyder laughing. Not the best security system, but this place is only temporary.
We’ve been moving locations multiple times a month for a while now. It seemed like a healthy precaution at first, given my allegiance to Sabre printed in black and white. The last thing I wanted was for a scrap of paper to interfere with my business, or vice versa.
Given recent events, I’d wager that precaution has paid off. The Anaconda Team isn’t the only one my father is hunting. According to whispers on the street, several of our old haunts have been targeted. The warehouse where I first fought Ember was set aflame two nights ago.
“Why are we here?” Hyland grumbles from the back of their group. “Anyone can hack a hospital system to check appointments. That doesn’t mean Sabre has a leak.”
“How many coincidences need to occur before you open your eyes?” I fire back.
He casts a savage look over his shoulder. “Some of us have dedicated our lives to this company. It’s not so easy to break that level of trust.”
“That attitude is precisely your weakness.”
At the end of a dim, sawdust-scented hallway, we veer left into a wide open workshop. Carpentry tools and rusted machinery are still in place, unmoved since the firm went into liquidation and ceased trading overnight.
Past the rows of abandoned workstations, we’ve constructed a rudimentary office behind stacked plywood and hanging tarps. Warner hangs back from leading our approach to let me enter first. I’d hate for Raye to attack him.
“Miss me?” I stroll in ahead of them.
Her pink head lifts from a stack of paperwork. “Like a gangrenous limb. What took you so long?”
“Complications. I’ve brought company.”
“Oh, goody.”
Her expression sours further at the troupe following me inside, two now visibly injured. The hospital staff stitched and bandaged Ember, but she refused to be held longer than necessary. A shot of pain relief and we fled not long after they called time of death on our troublesome assassin.
She huffs in annoyance. “More like stray pets off the street.”
“Play nice, Raye. We’re on the same side now.”
“I agreed to play nice with those two clowns at Sabre Security for you. Don’t expect me to smile and roll out the welcome mat for all the strait-laced wannabes you bring home, Blaine.”
“Wannabes?” Axel splutters.
“How’s the bullet wound?” She scowls at him.
“Perhaps we should give you one so you can find out for yourself.”
“Try it, motherfucker. I’ll have you ripped open and bleeding out in three seconds.”
“Guys.” Warner stations himself in the corner, tucking his weapon away. “Blaine’s right; we’re all on the same side. If we could have a conversation without death threats, that would be a good start.”
I’m not sure how I feel about the team leader agreeing with me—for the benefit of the situation or not. But with Raye’s mouth shut and Axel deflating, his words seem to do the trick for now.
“Everyone take a seat.” I gesture around at the collection of wooden crates.
“Nice office,” Hyland taunts as he settles onto one.
“It’s temporary.”
“Pretty far cry from your old digs, isn’t it?”
“Feel free to go back to being hunted on the street or shut your damn mouth. The adults are talking now.”
“You’re not my boss!”
“Hy,” Warner barks at him. “Shut the fuck up, man.”
With that settled, gathered around in a circle, I gratefully accept the fragrant joint that Raye lights then hands to me. I don’t smoke to relax; this shit focuses my mind faster than any stimulant.
“Whether it’s a popular opinion or not, Sabre’s ranks are compromised.” I ignore the grumbles from our resident enforcer. “Who knew of Axel’s movements today?”
“Us,” Ember volunteers.
“The directors,” Warner adds grimly.
“Hudson and Kade would sooner die before betraying their own.” Axel rests a hand over his stomach, wincing slightly.
Warner nods. “Agreed.”
“We were at a roundtable with the Falcon Team and Intelligence Department,” Hyland supplies, albeit begrudgingly. “So they are also aware of our schedules. Beyond that, it’s watertight.”
By my calculation, that creates a whole pool of suspects. Perhaps breaching the topic of investigating co-workers will be better received if I talk to Warner alone. The oaf will sooner remove my head.
With a glance at Raye, I indicate for her to take the floor. “Tell them about the dark web listings.”
Everyone sits a little straighter on their crates. She sighs then pulls out a laptop to fire up our routing software. The dark web is a seedy place, much of it distasteful even to me. But it pays to be informed.
“I’ve been monitoring forums known to be used by traffickers,” she explains, gaze on the screen. “Particularly key players associated with the cartel or Nolan Madden.”
“You didn’t think to provide us with this list?” Warner deadpans.
“Good luck finding them, quick draw.”
His mouth slams shut, chastised.
“There’s a reason these forums are frequented,” Raye continues, just as moodily. “You’d have more luck catching fog in a teacup than tracking down the real culprits selling skin online.”
“A teacup.” Axel chuckles to himself. “What? That’s funny.”
Raye rolls her eyes. “Anyway, we have noticed an influx of listings in the past two weeks. Far more than we’re used to seeing marketed online at any one time. Excess stock can rouse too much attention.”
“Stock?” Ember’s mouth curves down in a frown.
“Victims,” I clarify.
A series of colourful curses are thrown across the circle.
“Who’s cleaning house?” Warner asks flatly.
“Given what we know about my father’s association with the cartel, we can assume he’s absorbing Gael’s infrastructure. Selling off assets to fund his new expansion on our home turf. People included.”
Turning the laptop, Raye unveils her screen. “He’s been busy.”
The website looks rudimentary at best. That’s the thing with the shady underworld of the dark web. It isn’t hooded hackers sitting in dark rooms, running lines of complex computer code. Nor is it obvious.
For all its simplicity, the system is rather elegant. These people talk in a whole different language. Coded words are used to denote the illegal wares available for purchase. Weapons, narcotics, hit man services. And now stolen skin.
“What does that description mean?” Ember points to some text, her nose scrunched. “It’s gibberish.”
Clicking the mousepad, Raye flicks to a new listing. “To you? Sure. But to the trained eye, it isn’t hard to decode. They’re selling an underage girl—Asian, approximately five-feet tall, and a virgin.”
“It’s a profile.” A sickly tint invades Warner’s expression.
“Yes. The marketing is thorough. This isn’t Nolan’s first rodeo.”
The smoke dancing over my tastebuds morphs into sour acid. Raye knows just as well as I do how experienced my father is within this industry. The man’s hands are dripping red with innocent blood.
“How many listings?” Hyland stares intently at the screen.
“In this forum alone?” Raye waves to the computer. “Nearly fifteen. There are others.”
“Son of a bitch.” Warner clamps a hand over his forehead. “He’s cleaning house.”
Knowing the man behind such depraved dealings shares the same blood as me turns my stomach. I let my joint drop, crushing it beneath my shoe. It’s impossible to enjoy with bile clogging my throat.
Once upon a time, my mother was one of these nameless faces. A number to be bought, sold and abused. To my father, she was merely a commodity. It didn’t matter that she birthed his heir. He discarded her nonetheless.
I can’t turn back the clock to save her life. The past is dead and buried along with her ghost. But these women, men and children… they’re alive. Perhaps we can still do something to save them from a fate worse than death.
“This is it.” Ember nods almost to herself. “Even if we can’t find Nolan Madden, if he’s willing to sell his assets, maybe we can strike a deal with him.”
“You want to buy a person?” Hyland gawps at her.
“Of course not! It would be a sting operation. I want to pose as a legitimate buyer to bring his men out into the open and give us a fighting chance.”
The whole group wears varying looks of distaste, though thoughtful ones at that. Honestly, it’s probably the best course of action available right now. I can’t help but feel a little proud of Ember’s determination.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Warner muses.
Shuddering, Hyland scrubs a hand over his stubbled chin. “It makes me feel ill.”
“Sometimes we have to do things we’re not proud of.” Ember’s reply is solemn. “Once the deal is done, we would get the victim to safety and secure their freedom. Doing this will save their life.”
“And what?” I challenge. “Capture his foot soldiers?”