Death Comes Ashore

by Corinne O'Flynn

  “Hey partner, you doing all right?” Young stepped onto the porch and sat on the steps next to Corey. He bumped her shoulder gently with his.

  She bumped him back. “I’ve been better, Ethan. Not gonna lie.”

  He looked at the house, the siding torn to shreds by bullets. “They found the gun that did this in the woods over there.” He tipped his chin across the street. “It had a remote control on it. Like something out of a gangster movie.”

  She couldn’t find humor in any of this, not yet. “Yeah. Just like James Bond.”

  “Oh, come on. That thing the dude in white had in his sleeve? That was totally Bond.”

  “Yeah.”

  Young sighed. “Hey. I’m sorry. This has been one crazy messed up case, Corey. I swear.”

  “Tell me about it.” She sipped her Gatorade and watched the medical team tending to Alicia. One of the techs pointed a wand over the break and a glowing pink sling formed from mid-air. The color of that light reminded Corey of the bubble that had saved Alicia when they crashed.

  Alicia caught her eye and smiled. Corey wondered if the girl would be able to bounce back after all this. She’d been through so much.

  In the weeks after Corey had captured Wingate, Alicia was dead-set on making something of herself. Whether it was survivor’s guilt or simply getting too close to her own mortality, something in her had changed. She’d always had a spark in her. But after Wingate, and Nikki’s death, that spark had gone supernova.

  Alicia was on fire to make something meaningful happen. And when the PIO had taken her into their protection, Alicia honed her focus into coming back and testifying, making him pay. But something had changed there too. She’d gotten scared somehow. Spooked by the reality of the situation, maybe?

  Corey hoped being able to do her part at Wingate’s trial would give Alicia back some of the power he had taken from her. Maybe telling the truth, as Alicia had said, would help move some of the broken pieces back into place.

  Alicia looked over and caught Corey’s gaze and smiled.

  Corey raised her Gatorade bottle at Alicia in a mock toast. “At least we’ll we get to finish it. Put it away. That’s going to do some real good for Alicia. And for me, if I’m being honest.”

  “What do you mean?” Young asked.

  “It was him. Vladimir. He was the guy who…” she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want to feel so vulnerable in front of her partner. She needed him to know she wasn’t afraid.

  “Who what?”

  “He’s the guy who kidnapped me. When I was a kid.”

  Young blinked and shook his head as the information sunk in. “My god, Corey. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I think so. I just want to get on with it. See it through. I know Alicia wants that as much as I do. Maybe it will help.”

  “Maybe what will help?” Young’s voice seemed cautious.

  “Um, hello? The trial?” She waved her hand over the spectacle of lights and squad cars. “The reason for all this crazy you see before you?”

  “Oh.” Young looked at his shoes. “You haven’t talked to the captain yet, have you?”

  Corey looked at her partner. “No… Ethan? Look at me.” Young met her gaze.

  “What don’t I know?”

  Young closed his eyes. “Wingate took a plea this afternoon. He pleaded guilty. There won’t be a trial.”

  Corey felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. “Damn it. Damn it!” She threw her half-empty Gatorade bottle across the yard. “What the hell? Is it too much to ask for just a little justice here? Just a little? I swear I won’t be too greedy.” She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “I swear, Young. I think I might lose it for real.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Kojak padded through the door and nuzzled Corey’s neck.

  “Hey, look who’s up. How’s my baby doing?” She held Kojak’s head in her hands to look her in the face. “How you doing, girl?”

  Kojak’s bloodshot eyes seemed heavy and her mouth dripped with thick ropes of drool, but Corey didn’t mind one bit. She let her dog press her face into her lap, rolling onto her back for belly rubs.

  Young leaned over and rubbed Kojak’s belly. “Hey, look at the bright side.”

  “I wish I could see one right now, Ethan. I really do.”

  “Wingate might not be going to trial, but I was talking to the PIO guys over there and they said Wingate gave them everything. Names and places, where the Oasis Group meets, who they are. How they communicate. You won’t believe some of it. I’m telling you, it’s like a movie, Corey.”

  Corey sat up. This was good news.

  Young continued. “So the guy with the mask? Vladimir? He’s a ‘dane but his family isn’t. He was born without magic from magical parents. Turns out he didn’t like that. Decided he was going to make a difference as a wizard. He figured out a way to steal magic from other people and harnessed it in that creepy mask.”

  Corey gaped at her partner.

  “I know right? That’s some fucked up shit.”

  She was confused. “Where did they find the girls? Why those girls? How did the rest of it work?”

  “Wingate said that the black magic Vladimir was doing was expensive. He had teams of people working for him, apparently. So he chose girls who fit a certain age and a certain look. Because once they were stripped of their magic, there were more people who would pay for them. Pay big money. It’s like some sick black market cycle.”

  Corey couldn’t process any of it. She just sat there and took the information in.

  Young continued on, sharing everything Wingate had told them when he turned.

  “Anyway, yeah, and they can’t wait to get Alicia back in the game. They want her to go undercover.”

  Another PIO cruiser pulled up and the door opened. Bronwyn stepped out and ran across the road and scooped Alicia into a gigantic hug.

  “I hope they hold off telling her that Wingate pleaded out.” She tipped her chin toward Alicia. “At least for a little while.”

  They watched as Bronwyn stroked Alicia’s hair and cupped her daughter’s cheeks in her hands.

  Corey’s mind moved into the future she knew would be coming for Alicia. Despite all they’d been through, all the risks and all the danger, they both knew what had to be done.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The yacht glided across the water so smoothly; it was as if the sea moved out of its way. The eighty-two-foot luxury cruiser, dubbed The Sea Witch, slid through the night, its cockpit and upper decks loaded with people, though nobody on board the yacht was in a partying mood.

  When they boarded this afternoon, there had been an air of excitement and expectation. But after lunch, planning meetings, and hours at sea, the moon rose and the mood mellowed to one a serious contemplation and focus on the job ahead.

  Several years of deep undercover work on the part of the PIO—through its task force to combat transnational organized crime groups who operated irrespective of geography, or the laws of magical and mundane alike—had finally produced intelligence that launched tonight’s operation.

  An American PIO agent of Russian heritage had infiltrated the Oasis Group, posing as a wealthy mundane businessman with eclectic tastes in women and a growing profile of extremely wealthy investors willing to provide cash to certain illicit operations in exchange for a generous percentage return.

  The Oasis Group was a syndicate that started out of the Russian Solntsevskata Bratva mafia organization, which made their money trafficking heroin and women in the mundane world. They were led by a group of directors, some from the magical ranks and some mundane, who brokered power and wealth to get what they wanted from the world.

  The Oasis Group had been able to avoid capture over the years because they hosted their “auction events” on the open sea, and never in the same place twice. Their clients, looking to buy large quantities of heroin for distribution through their own criminal networks and, of course, purchase a clean, high-
quality sex slave while they were at it, were given GPS coordinates and instructed to meet at a specific time out on the open water. This time, for the first time, the PIO had the inside scoop, and a secret key to get inside.

  Inspector Corey Proctor watched her partner as he made his way toward her. He moved through the yacht’s posh dining room, past its black lacquered table with seating for twelve. The sleek upholstered chairs had been pushed to the walls, transforming the room into a command station during the hours since they’d left Witch Island. Maps and boat schematics covered the long rectangular table’s surface while the agents hovered over their game plan, making sure everyone knew what was supposed to happen.

  Corey and Alicia had been briefed twice already on their parts in the plan. Now all they had to do was wait for the signal that the op was underway.

  Young skirted between the pair of matching white leather couches loaded with PIO agents caught up in their own whispered conversations, and stepped onto the aft deck to the L-shaped seating area where Corey waited. He wore a dark jacket and jeans, his blond-tipped spiky hair hidden under a bright yellow baseball cap with the letters MCU emblazoned in black letters across the front. She smiled, knowing he wore the Magical Crimes Unit cap solely to stand out among the abundance of Prestigium agents and their gear boasting the bold PIO logo.

  “You ok?” Inspector Ethan Young sat on the end of the bench and handed Corey an ice-cold bottle of water.

  She nodded and twisted off the cap, careful to hold the dripping plastic away from her dress as she took a sip. She was nervous, of course. But her handler at the PIO, a petite brunette called Agent Speltzer, who wore her hair in the tightest French twist Corey had ever seen, coached her through preparations for this operation, and made sure she understood pre-op jitters were expected—normal even.

  “If you stop feeling nervous, it’s time to stop field work,” she’d said.

  Corey couldn’t imagine a point where she’d ever stop feeling butterflies in her belly before a bust. Her nerves didn’t care that she wasn’t in her normal outfit of jeans and a tank top with room under her jacket for her gun. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t sitting in the comfort of her Toyota 4Runner’s nicely appointed cab. No, tonight she was dressed in an ankle-length, gold sequined gown and fancy jeweled flip-flops, her long hair swept to one side, and a fresh orange flower tucked behind her ear. The dress left little to the imagination and even less room for her thigh holster and her little .22 pistol.

  “Thanks. I’m fine. Looking forward to this, actually.” She didn’t look at Young, certain her partner would see through her tough words to her flittering stomach and her gnawing fears. She was honest when she said she was fine. She wasn’t worried about herself. But she’d promised Bronwyn Turnkey that she’d look out for her daughter. Corey tipped her chin across the deck. “I am more worried about her.”

  Corey and Young turned their attention to the other side of the aft deck, where Alicia sat in one of the creamy leather loveseats, her legs curled under her and her attention fixed on the ocean.

  Watching Alicia broke Corey’s heart. It had been almost nine months since this whole thing started. And while it was true that both Corey and Alicia had fallen prey to Marcus Wingate, and the man in white, Corey’s experience wasn’t nearly as horrific as her friend’s had been.

  The former confident, happy magical student who planned to go into law enforcement who used to have long blonde hair and a bevy of friends had become a cowed, nervous young woman who had been cut off from her whole world and had chosen to cut off all her hair and dye it shocking red in an attempt to conceal her identity.

  Looking at her now, Alicia was definitely more like her old self. Therapy had allowed Alicia to find coping mechanisms that seemed to be working. She’d gradually moved back into her more typical appearance and now sported a sleek blonde pixie cut. She had enrolled in school again, and while they hadn’t yet been able to manage her PTSD, she had finally worked up the nerve to attempt using magic again and continued working on magical defense and weapons, which helped her immensely.

  Young looked away from Alicia and sipped his water. “Hey. You think it’s a good idea she’s on this job? I mean, I know they trained her and everything, but… it’s kind of soon. Don’t you think?”

  Corey’s thoughts bristled at his question. She was certain he didn’t mean anything by it; in a lot of ways, this was probably just another bust for Young. Sure, he cared for Corey and what she’d been through. And he and everyone at the station knew Alicia from her internships… But for Corey and Alicia, this was something that went deep. Something so personal it caused absolute disruption in the form of visceral flashbacks, nightmares, and a rage that demanded attention every day and every night.

  Corey scoffed. “Nah. I think it’s just the right time.” She recalled the words of Dr. Glowden, and though they were meant for Corey at the time, the truth of them held for Alicia as well. She reiterated them for her partner. “This will help her process what she’s been through,” she said, unable to ignore her own thoughts. And it will help me process some of my own stuff too. Maybe once the people responsible are behind bars, the nightmares would stop.

  Pinching the skin at the top of her knee, a device meant to quiet her spiraling thoughts and focus her mind on the task at hand, instead had the opposite effect. Corey’s thoughts circled inward.

  These people tried to kill her. They had gone after Kojak. They destroyed her home. They made it clear that her life—and the lives of anyone who got in their way — meant nothing to them. Before that, as a child, they tried to break her. One of the monsters at the head of the Oasis Group kidnapped her when she was just a little girl and tried to take what was hers.

  She realized now that she got lucky. They hadn’t actually managed to cut away her soul like they had to so many before. But that didn’t mean Corey could just flip that switch and carry on with her life. No, it would take some time before she was ready to go there. The man who did this to her was dead. But there were many more just like him.

  The monsters in the Oasis Group destroyed the lives of the women they kidnapped. They hired hunters like Marcus Wingate to prey upon young girls and rip them from the prime of their lives. They enlisted the help of people all over. They branded the women like cattle, they stole their magical souls, then they hooked them on mundane drugs, and sold them at auction to the highest bidder.

  Corey glanced over at Alicia’s ankle. She had hired a tattoo artist to create a design to cover the place where it was hidden. The twirling vine of colorful hibiscus blooms wove a beautiful ring around her ankle like a cuff. The largest orange bloom had been drawn around the half-moon scar itself, the curve of the invisible crescent forming the slender pistil arching from the center of the bloom. It was beautifully done, and the raised skin from the brand and the twinkling spell that was trapped under her skin, stood out sometimes when the light hit it just right.

  That damned Oasis Group and their half-moon scar. She’d learned while working with the PIO that the half-moon represented the crescent-shaped coves around the world where their sea-bound hunters met with their handlers to hand off the girls they captured and get paid.

  Wingate had been heading to the half-moon cove on the north rim of Little Pea Island, a tiny, uninhabited land south of Nahant and east of the mainland. Thank God he’d been interrupted by the Coast Guard doing a patrol. They’d been out in the waters around the islands, warning all the vessels that a wicked storm was blowing in and their lives were at risk. If only there’d been some sign of the horrific things going on inside that cabin…

  To think that a simple safety check on the part of the Coast Guard was the only reason they’d found Alicia in time. Corey shuddered and dismissed the thought. So much in life hinged on the smallest happenstance, it would make her crazy if she focused on all the what-ifs that happened in a normal day.

  When the PIO had asked Corey and Alicia if they would participate in the sting operation they
called Operation Oasis, Corey didn’t have to think about it. Of course she wanted in.

  It was the same for Alicia. The op was an opportunity to put things back in the win column for both women. It offered a chance to deliver a punch to the animals in person. It gave them a chance to rescue the girls.

  Later they had learned that because of the high-level clientele scheduled to attend, the heads of eight of the ten mafia brigades were expected to be there as well. It was slated to be the bust of the decade for the PIO and their mundane human counterparts in the FBI and a huge win for the fight against human trafficking worldwide.

  Granted, the PIO wanted Alicia on board because she had the one thing they needed to add that small but important detail to the optics—the half-moon scar on her ankle.

  As if sensing Corey’s scrutiny, Alicia shifted and brushed her hand over her ankle, never taking her eyes off the water.

  It crushed Corey’s soul to think about Alicia and all the weight she carried as a result of the crimes committed against her. She knew whatever happened tonight wouldn’t erase or fix anything right away—if ever. If anyone knew the price one paid for trauma inflicted upon them by evil men, it was Corey. The Oasis Group killed Nikki Soto and had done things to Alicia that would take several lifetimes to overcome.

  A light fog had rolled in from the north, adding a chill to the air and subduing the mood among The Sea Witch’s passengers.

  Corey leaned back and closed her eyes as the fog deepened, doing an internal inspection of her feelings. She’d been antsy all day, but now she was a jumble. She did an inventory of her body and let her muscles relax as her mind traced a line from her toes all the way up to the top of her head. She wasn’t tired and she wasn’t afraid. It took a moment for her to pinpoint the emotion she was carrying. Then it dawned on her.