Chapter 28 #2
"We found a place," Zayne says with a hint of doubt in his voice after he takes a seat.
"Yet, you don't sound like you think it's the best place," Bobby challenges.
Zayne pulls in a deep breath, letting his cheeks puff on the exhale before speaking again.
My partner holds his hands up at his ears as if surrendering and giving this man all the power.
"I'm afraid you may not like it."
"It doesn't have to have five-star accommodations," Bobby says.
"Well," Zayne begins.
"Can you just get on with it?" Bobby growls. "Fuck, why does everyone want to test my patience today?"
I lean forward in my chair, glaring at the man.
He doesn't cower this time, and knowing he has somehow found a little courage in the last few breaths makes me want to prove to him why he should always be afraid of me, but once again, that doesn't advance our mission.
"He doesn't want to upset you," I say, my voice low, a whisper of warning in it. "For some reason, my cousin wants to impress you."
Bobby looks from me back to Zayne before planting his eyes back on me.
"Go on," he urges with a small wave of his hand. "Impress me."
"We—" Zayne begins, but his mouth snaps closed when Bobby holds up his hand.
"I want to hear it from him," he demands.
I know I haven't impressed him in any way, but maybe making me explain what we found is his way of placing the blame on me, not on Zayne, who is meant to play the guy who kisses his ass and is willing to do all his bidding.
"The house we found is fucking fine if you're using it to sell dope, but if it's to process new friends or introduce clients to these new friends, then it won't work.
The floor plan only includes one bedroom and one bathroom, and the rest of the house has a severe open floor plan," I explain.
"Lots of room for junkies, but less privacy than I think you'd like if you had other intentions with the property. "
"We can keep looking if you want us to," Zayne urges when Bobby is silent for a long moment, suggesting that the house might not suit his needs and that he's trying to figure out how to handle his disappointment.
"It sounds perfect," Bobby answers. "No need to keep looking."
With my hands in my lap, I squeeze my fists tight once again, the pain it causes radiating up my arms.
Using it as a trap house doesn't get us any closer to helping the women here, and the disappointment I feel knowing this case will continue to eat at me from the inside out.
I knew taking this job, infiltrating this group, would take time. Why I let myself hope we could take these bastards down in less than a week, I don't know.
"I'll get with the girls in supply to make sure that you have everything you need to stock the place and get it ready for our new guests," Bobby says. "They'll have it all ready and loaded before dinner, so you guys can take it in the morning. Good work."
"Nice," Zayne says as he begins to stand.
"Actually," Bobby says. "Hold on just a minute."
He lifts the top on his laptop, and we wait several long minutes as he searches for something, grumbling cuss words under his breath, before he finds what he's looking for.
What I wouldn't give for Casper to have access to that piece of equipment.
If they have a board detailing the jobs they'll have this week, I have no doubt there's enough information on it to take down this whole fucking group.
I make a mental note to see if we can't get something from Cerberus to clone that computer.
A small printer whirs into action, printing two pages.
It's at least got Bluetooth, but that doesn't guarantee that it has internet. I'm not a computer expert on any level, but it makes me think accessing his network might be fairly easy if we could get our hands on that damn thing.
"Take that list," he tells Zayne, pointing to the printer. "Give it to the girls at the supply house. They'll get you all lined out."
"You got it," he says.
I stand, walking toward the door without another word, but thinking I'll be given the opportunity to walk away without Bobby getting the last word is a mistake.
"Hey, Lyle," the man says as I step into the doorway to leave.
I turn back to face him.
"Thank you for being so direct. I need more men like that on my team."
There's a suggestion of pride in his tone that makes me hate the man even more.
But if I were someone who ached for even the smallest hint of praise, I could see how his approval could leave others wanting more of it. It doesn't take much to make people feel good, to make them keep wanting to impress someone, and that's how easy it is to get someone to do your bidding.
His words feel more psychological than he may even intend, but he has to have learned, from basic cause-and-effect, what works with the people he assumes have loyalty to him.
I dip my head in acknowledgment as Zayne walks toward me.
"Curtis," Bobby says. "Take a few pointers from your cousin."
And that's how he controls the other part of those in his grasp.
Disappointment from the leader can be just as powerful as praise, but it can also breed hatred and infighting in the group, and I think he understands there's purpose in that as well.
If everyone got along and trusted each other fully, then they might come up with a plan to overthrow him, and he can't have that.
He needs discordance to stay in power, and he doesn't seem at all hesitant to feed it even between two people he believes are family. He wants us to fight among ourselves, build a few walls between the two of us, all the while I fight for more praise, and Zayne fights to impress him.
It's a strategic move, and one that might not be analyzed as closely if we were actually members struggling to find our place in The League of Liberty.
"Yes, sir," my partner says as he walks past me out the door.
His head is hung a little lower, shoulders slumped in a way that would suggest to anyone watching him that he's riddled with disappointment in himself, but I catch the little smirk on his face in the hallway.
As far as that man is concerned, we're playing right into his hands, and his thinking we're right on track with where he wants us will make him let his guard down a little, and that's how we cut the head off the fucking snake.
"Seems pretty basic," Zayne says once we leave the building and get around the end of stacked cars, heading toward the supply building.
He hands me the list, and if it weren't for the numbers associated with each item, it would look like a simple list of maybe a kid going to college or someone getting their first apartment.
Mattresses, snacks, toiletries, a generator, and a few heaters don't set off any alarm bells.
"Cardboard?" I ask, handing him the list back.
"For the windows," Zayne explains under his breath as we approach the supply building.
Once again, we're greeted by a woman when we get close.
"Candy," Zayne says, an easy smile on his face. "Bobby said to give you this list."
She takes the list, looking down at it, but she doesn't ask any questions, making me wonder just how often they set up these kinds of places.
What I do notice is the whoosh of relief that rushes past her lips as if she's grateful that this list doesn't contain certain items. It's as if she knows what each list means, and maybe the setup of a different place, one that was either processing women or catering to sick fuck clients, is something she might have personal experience with.
We'll eventually know her story once we burn this place to the ground.
With as bad as I know it'll be, there's a sense of pause in me, one that makes me want to postpone hearing those horrific details just as much as it makes me want to act before having the proof that we need to make charges stick against these people.
"He give you a timeline?" she asks.
"Says the truck will be ready by morning," Zayne tells her.
"Got it," she says before walking back into the supply building.