The Hunted Assassin, page 19
“Do you think Jaxon actually meant for us to hire a prostitute?” Francisco asked.
“Why’d you think he gave us each three thousand credits? We can’t just ask the Madame exactly where she buys drugs for her whores,” Oliver said before stepping through the elaborate entrance.
The contrast in environments was drastic. The promenade was filled with glitz and glamour, and flashing lights were everywhere. Inside the brothel, things were much more restrained. The cold, steel floor present outside was replaced by a plush, mauve-colored carpet. The walls were lined with a wainscot of stained wood with decorative wallpaper above. There was a crystal chandelier at the center of the ceiling, providing ample yet subdued light. There were a series of velvet-covered armchairs, arranged in groups throughout the modest antechamber. At the far corner, there was a podium, similar to that of a maître d’s station of harbor, situated in front of a wide, curtained doorway. There were several men in the vestibule, sitting, waiting in the various chairs, but the Madame was nowhere in sight.
“Does this mean that we should come back later?” Francisco asked, obviously uncomfortable in the environment.
“No, this means that we wait. I’m sure the lovely ladies will parade themselves around any minute.”
Oliver took a seat where he could see the entire room’s layout. Francisco took the adjacent seat. They sat in silence, and as the time passed, Francisco appeared to relax. Then, as Oliver had predicted, a number of sensually dressed women paraded into the room. They were followed by a heavyset woman wearing more makeup than a circus clown.
“You think that’s Madame Elina?” Francisco asked.
Oliver ignored Francisco’s question, as he was previewing the women for hire.
“What’s that?” Oliver asked, forcing his eyes back to Francisco.
“Is that Madame Elina?” Francisco repeated.
“Might be. Why don’t you go find out? I’m going to go over and talk to those lovely ladies,” Oliver said as he moved toward the gathered prostitutes.
Francisco waited several moments before making a move, cursing his own lack of confidence. When he’d joined the GSA, he’d never had any intention of becoming a field agent, opting for the scientific aspect of the job instead. That would’ve allowed him to maintain a much lower profile and stay in the shadows, which he preferred. Initially, when the director approached him about this particular mission, Francisco thought it would be a great opportunity to move up into the advanced departments he’d envisioned. Now, as he sat watching Oliver effortlessly converse with three attractive women, he began to wonder if he’d made the right decision.
Realizing that unless he got a move on, he’d suffer ridicule for his inaction, Francisco reluctantly stood and headed for the Madame.
Oliver approached the three harlots that had gathered near a previously unnoticed fireplace. Having visited similar establishments many times in his ignominious carrier, he had no reservations about approaching the women.
“Hi there. Could either of you direct me to the nearest monastery? I seem to have wandered off the righteous path,” Oliver said, grinning widely.
Two of the women giggled uncontrollably, while the third wasn’t as amused by Oliver’s dry humor. She smiled nonetheless.
“Just how far have you strayed, mister?” a salacious blonde asked. The other two women, both brunettes, stood silently next to the stone hearth.
“Just far enough that I fully realize that I’ve done some very, very bad things,” Oliver said. Then he threw out an exaggerated wink and moved closer to the blonde.
“Well, I’m not sure about redemption, but if you’d like to further your adulterous path, I’d love to show you the way,” said the woman. “My name is Gigi. And you are?”
“Ryan,” Oliver said, stating his agreed upon cover name prior to leaving the Buddha. “Very pleased to meet you.”
“Tell me, Ryan,” Gigi said as she slipped her arm into his. “What would you like me to do for you?”
Oliver smiled and nodded to the remaining two women as Gigi led him to a pair of chairs nestled out of the way. “I don’t have anything in particular in mind. Do you have a specialty?”
“I have lots of specialties, darling, but each of them are valued differently. How much would you like to spend? I can tell you what’s on the menu.”
“Well, I’ve got a pocket full of credits, so the sky’s the limit. To tell the truth, I’ve been out of touch for so long, I’d love to have an open menu, and if you have any … additional recreation, I might be obliged to partake in that as well.”
Gigi’s eyes brightened. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Let’s get a deposit in place with Madame Elina then we’ll move into the back for a little privacy.”
Francisco nervously stepped up to the podium where the Madame stood. She looked up with her sky blue eyeshadow and Merlot-colored lips and smiled. “Hi there, sugar. You see something you like?” she asked.
Francisco could feel beads of sweat began to build at his temples. He scanned through his mind, trying to pick out the words that he’d just rehearsed moments before. Unfortunately, he stood there, tongue-tied and completely embarrassed at his inability to function properly in the field. Visions of fight or flight passed through his mind, and as he was about to take the second option, he felt a firm slap on his back.
“Well, Drake, you almost beat me to the punch,” Oliver said as he stepped up to the podium with Gigi on his arm.
“I, uh, yeah,” is all that Francisco could get out.
“Well, I’m here now. I think I have what we we’re looking for.” He nodded his head toward Gigi. “You’re okay with a threesome, right?” he asked her.
Gigi’s nearly perfect smile wavered slightly, but returned with gusto. “Yeah, sure,” she said excitedly. “If Madame Elina is okay with it.”
Before the Madame could respond, Oliver pulled out two thousand credits and dropped them on the podium. Everyone’s eyes watched as the universal currency settled on the mahogany surface. Greedily, the Madame scooped up the credits and stuffed them into her brassiere then stepped to the side. “You three have a good time now, you hear?”
Gigi led the boys back into a dimly lit corridor, which was lined with several doors on each side. As they moved along, moans and groans could be heard. Toward the end of the hallway, Gigi turned to the left and a new corridor appeared, along with a new series of doors. About halfway down on the right, Gigi stopped and opened the door. She gestured for the two men to enter. Francisco entered first, followed by Oliver. Gigi stepped in and closed the door, startling Francisco.
“What do you two boys have in mind?” Gigi asked as she began to untie her sheer robe. Before either Oliver or Francisco could protest, she dipped her shoulders slightly and the robe dropped to the floor, revealing her naked body. “Do you want to go individually? Or would you rather all three of us go at it at the same time?”
Oliver glanced at Francisco and resisted laughing out loud at the stark white appearance on his face. “If you don’t mind, it’s been a long trip, and I’m not sure about Drake here, but I’d like a little something to ease my mind, if you know what I mean.”
“Absolutely,” Gigi said, moving to the bureau on the far wall. She slid open the drawer and withdrew a slim black box with some indistinguishable insignia etched on the cover. “What’s your pleasure?” she asked.
Oliver stepped up to Gigi and noticed the hieroglyphs instantly. He recognized them from the research files back on the Buddha, being related to the Guzman family. He knew they were in the right place. “I’m not sure. Like I said, it’s been a while. I’ve heard about this new drug, but I can’t remember what it was. Something like white … hip? White … nose?”
“Ah, yes. I think you mean Whitetail. Unfortunately, you’ll find none of that here, at least not today. I have some of these blue pills, if you need extra support, or if you really want to get crazy, I have some Ex, or—”
“No Whitetail?” Oliver asked, portraying disappointment. “A friend of mine said that if I’m ever in the outer ring, I’ve really got to try that, and I’ve had my heart set on it. Any chance you could—”
“Like I said, not today,” Gigi said sternly then returned the black box to her bureau. When she turned back around, her smile reappeared and she moved to where they were standing.
“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I think we should all get down to business,” Gigi said as she slipped her hand into Oliver’s trousers while she kissed him to keep him from protesting.
Francisco stood, his mouth agape. “I, uh, I’m not feeling very well,” he said, backing toward the door. “Hey, Mi … I mean, Ryan, I’m going to go wait out front.”
Oliver only grunted.
Francisco closed the door behind him as he stood alone in the dimly lit hallway. Overwhelmed by the situation, he tried to recall the direction they came in, but he couldn’t remember a thing. He looked to his left and then to his right, but both routes looked identical. He had a fifty-fifty shot of making the right decision and he turned to the right. At the end of the corridor, he came to a T. To the left was another long hallway. To the right, he found an opening that was draped with a velvet curtain. He remembered first coming back, and was almost positive that he passed a similar curtain, but could’ve sworn that they took more turns along the way. He stepped up, parted the curtains and walked through.
Once through the passageway, he stood in a small vestibule that had a single armchair with a broken leg, causing it to teeter to the left. Next to the chair was a door unlike the others in the establishment. All of the others featured pink diamonds at the center of charcoal-colored ovals. This door was titanium and looked more like an exit door than anything else.
“Ah, a backdoor,” Francisco mumbled before pushing through.
On the other side of the doorway, Francisco froze. He stood in a long, narrow room that was barely illuminated. From what he could see, there were a dozen or so steel wired cages along each side of the room. In each of the cages, scared, bloodshot eyes stared back. He felt along the wall for a switch and flicked it on. Bright light flooded the room and the horror set in. Each of the pairs of eyes belonged to a different girl. From what he could see, the girls’ ages varied from young teens to grown adults. Each of the women were completely naked and some were malnourished. Their wrists were bound behind their backs, and they all wore ball gags at their mouths.
Petrified at the sight, his first thought was to free them and escape the facility. As he rushed forward and began opening the first cage, his analytical mind stopped him. He knew that freeing the girls now would certainly spell doom for their mission, and the livelihood of his entire team. He paused for a moment, trying to decide what he should do. He looked down at the woman in the cage. She was a teen, probably fifteen or sixteen, her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes looked up at him, filled with fright. Her pale cheeks were stained with dried tears and grime.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I can’t right now. I want to help all of you,” Francisco said, addressing all of the women. “But I’m outnumbered at the moment.”
One by one, each of the women began to sob softly.
“Wait, wait. Please don’t cry. You have to keep quiet. If you don’t, someone will hear and who knows what they’ll do? Hush, please.”
Painfully, Francisco re-latched the lock on the cage and retreated to the door. He flicked off the light once again and stepped back through. He retraced his steps down the hall, passing the doorway that Gigi had led them to. At the other end of the corridor, he turned right and saw the familiar cordoned off doorway. Beyond it, Madame Elina stood, her back toward him. He took several deep breaths for courage then walked out.
Madame Elina looked at him and smiled. “Well, aren’t you a quick finisher?” she said.
Francisco puffed out his chest and smiled as confidently as he could. “Well, some people say it isn’t a race, but, you know,” he said as he sauntered out into the promenade.
43
Jaxon and Camille waited for the elevator to arrive, hoping that it was empty when it did. As they stood in silence, Camille leaned her head onto Jaxon’s shoulder, sliding her arm around his waist. Jaxon was unsure how to react. Since having her thrust back into his life, he’d fully realized what a terrible mistake he’d made abandoning her. He wondered, though, if her actions were for their mission’s disguise, or if she harbored the same feelings for him that he did for her.
When the elevator opened, the car wasn’t empty, but the man aboard stepped off and around them, uninterested. Stepping in and looking at the panel of buttons to the right, Jaxon noticed the familiarity in its layout, as it was similar to his own space station’s design, mixed use floors above and residential floors below, and at the very bottom of the panel, there was a button labeled 50. They were on level M, probably representing Main.
“Shit,” Jaxon muttered. It had to be all the way at the bottom.
Camille pushed the button, sending the elevator car down to what they hoped was a lead worth the risk. After several minutes of descent, the car slowed as the crimson digits above the door rolled over to their desired floor.
The doors parted, but neither Jaxon nor Camille moved right away. They stared out into a stark white corridor that carried away from them. At the far end, there was an unremarkable door.
“Well? What do you think?” Jaxon asked.
Camille remained silent for a moment before cautiously stepping out. Jaxon followed, then the doors closed. The sound of the elevator whisking back up hummed quietly.
“Okay then. I guess we’re checking it out,” Jaxon said, stepping ahead of Camille. When they reached the door, they found that it had no distinguishable markings whatsoever. Curiously, there wasn’t even a door handle present. Jaxon looked at Camille then shrugged. He reached out and rapped on the door.
Boom, boom, boom, the sound echoed in the stark corridor.
They stood, quietly, for several moments before either of them heard a noise. Suddenly, a high-pitched whining echoed throughout as the perimeter of the doorframe began to glow red. At the same time, the center panel of the door transitioned from the color of the door skin into a kind of LCD display with five empty boxes across the top, and a 10-digit keypad below. There was also a timer displaying 0:60 present. Then, the red glow at the doorframe began to flash in one-second intervals, in sync with the clock ticking backward. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven …
“What do you think?” Jaxon asked.
Camille narrowed her eyes on the keypad and reached out to enter the code given to them.
“Hold on a sec,” Jaxon said. “Suppose we enter the wrong code?”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Camille said, holding her hand just millimeters away from the screen.
Before she touched the display, Jaxon looked over his shoulder, and his facial expression turned to shock. Camille saw his change and followed his eyes.
“Jesus,” she exclaimed. “I guess if we don’t get it right … we’re as good as dead,” she said, staring at the machine gun that had lowered from the ceiling, pointing directly at them.
“Yeah, pretty much. Either that or …” Jaxon paused and looked toward the elevator itself and was further discouraged to find that another blank door had suddenly appeared halfway down the hall.
“Or what?” Camille asked.
“Look,” Jaxon said, pointing past the machine gun.
Camille exhaled dramatically.
“My sentiments exactly,” Jaxon said, refocusing his attention on the display. Twenty-five, twenty-four …
Without hesitation, Camille reached out and touched the keypad.
Five, zero, nine, six, one.
Nothing happened.
A few seconds later, the timer stopped, and the flashing red doorframe turned blue. A faint mechanical grinding noise could be heard from the other side of the door. Then, a click as the door popped open.
“Well, there you go,” Jaxon said as he looked back at the machine gun. It was gone. It had retracted back up the moment they entered the correct code.
“Shall we?” Camille asked, moving toward the open door.
Jaxon reached out and gently tugged on her arm, pulling her back.
“Wait up a minute,” Jaxon said. “Maybe we should rethink this. Maybe only one of us should go in, and the other should go check on the boys.”
“Split up? Now? But we’re so close.”
“I know. But if this goes south, and they close us in again,” Jaxon said, motioning toward the now visible elevator door, “we’ll both be trapped down here. But, if you go back up now, you’ll at least know where to come get me if something happens.”
“But why you? I might have a better chance of persuading whoever is behind the door to give us what we’re looking for,” Camille said convincingly.
“Like you could actually talk your way out of a risky situation better than me.”
She smiled, leaning into him closely, pressing her breasts against his chest. “Yes. Because I have lady parts, and you don’t. Men are suckers for a nice rack.”
Jaxon’s heart rate increased momentarily at the closeness of Camille. He could smell her delicate scent, and he longed to touch that which was pressed firmly against his body.
“I don’t know, Camille. Suppose it’s a woman? She might be looking for a man just like me to sweep her off her feet.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, what was the name on that card again?” She winked.
Jaxon sighed. “It’s Ziggi, but I still think it’s you that should head up. I’ve had nearly a lifetime of fieldwork, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Besides, you can use your lady parts to control the boys if they get out of line.”
