Room For One More (Herc's Mercs Book 8)

by Ari McKay

  “Start it up,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the laptop instead.

  Joe didn’t protest Drew’s nearness. He shifted the laptop around, balancing it between them. “I’ll go back to the beginning. You heard me laughing because Jim kept trying to say ‘prestidigitation’ and screwing it up, and every time he did Bill’s eyebrows would twitch.”

  Drew settled in to watch, grateful for the respite—and for the moment of rapport with Joe. Maybe the more Joe learned about him, the less Joe would see him as a threat. At the very least, he hoped he and Joe could develop a decent relationship without any lingering jealousy or resentment marring it. Anything more than that…. Well, that was probably a pipe dream best suited for the pages of the romance novels they both liked.

  24

  “That’s suspicious,” Joe murmured.

  He and Drew were sitting at an open-air café on one of Islamabad’s busy main streets, sipping drinks and pretending to enjoy the relative coolness of the morning. The café just happened to be across from a shop that sold rugs and fabrics in native Pakistani patterns, and also happened to be owned by one Ismail Abassi, who was forty-six years old and had run the shop since the death of his father. That was all the information Pixel had been able to dig up on the man; despite the high-tech nature of Islamabad, there were still plenty of people who didn’t have significant online presences. Added to the fact that many of the government records were incomplete, it made ferreting out information far more difficult than normal for Hercules Security’s cyber guru.

  After their meeting with the businessman and almost a week of surveillance, Joe was convinced the guy wasn’t their target. They’d been forced to proceed down their list of suspects and had spent a couple of days watching the first shopkeeper on their list, who ran a café of his own across town, but not only was that man only thirty-eight and therefore pretty young to have an eighteen-year-old son, the guy’s wife and a virtual herd of small daughters worked in the café with him. They seemed like a happy, prosperous family, and that Ismail Abassi worked the café from early in the morning until late in the evening. Joe had learned to trust his instincts about people, and the personable shopkeeper just wasn’t the type to be the mastermind of a human trafficking operation.

  Which brought them to their current target—the second shopkeeper, who was not only older, but also a much harder man than the café owner. Joe had seen him yelling at a customer, gesticulating angrily until the cowed woman had walked away. It seemed odd to Joe for a shopkeeper to drive off a customer, unless the shop in question was just a front for something else. Perhaps something sinister.

  “He could just be an asshole,” Drew said.

  “No, not that.” Joe took a sip of his coffee, pretending to have no interest in the shop. “A woman just came out, but when she went in about ten minutes ago, she had a child with her.”

  “Oh shit….” Drew covered his surprise by focusing on his coffee and leaning forward as if listening intently to Joe. “That merits a closer look, I think.”

  “Yeah. I suppose it could be a daughter bringing a kid to visit the grandparents, but the woman barely acknowledged Abassi on her way past.” Joe bit his lip. “You know, rugs have been used to smuggle people and bodies before. This guy certainly would have the means to transport captives all over the city, and even to other cities.”

  “True, but that seems pretty blatant,” Drew said. “If Abassi has enough people coming in with kids, but not leaving with them, someone’s going to notice. You’d think the operation would be more inconspicuous than that, you know?”

  “Yeah. But maybe the fact that no one would think that people would be that overconfident is a cover in and of itself. If enough customers come in with kids and leave with them, the occasional drop-off might go completely unnoticed.”

  “You want to watch a while longer or go check it out?”

  Joe considered for a moment as he finished his coffee. “Let’s check it out. I’ll head into the shop. You circle around back. Check for a loading dock, see if you see anything suspicious. I’ll try to figure out what happened to that kid. That work?”

  Drew nodded as he pushed back his chair and stood up. “Let’s do it.”

  “Text me if you find anything, and I’ll do the same.” As Drew walked off, Joe took out his cellphone, pretending to consult it to give Drew time to get ahead of him and to the back of the building. After a minute, he rose from his seat, before moving casually toward the street corner. He crossed with at least a dozen other people when the traffic light changed and then spent his time glancing in other shop windows while actually keeping a close watch on his goal.

  Foot traffic had picked up, and Joe saw another woman exit, one he was certain had entered with two children. Abassi was haggling with another customer, and while his attention was diverted, Joe took the opportunity to slip past him and into the shop.

  The space was almost claustrophobic, stacked high with rolled-up rugs on one side, and bolts of fabric on the other. There were a couple of customers inside the shop, women who were at a counter talking with a younger woman who was measuring out fabric. There were a couple of children inside as well, but they were close to their mothers. Of the children who had entered and not left, Joe saw no sign.

  He headed toward the rear of the shop, wondering if the kids had been taken into a storage room. That’s when he happened upon a wooden staircase, almost hidden behind a hanging rug. Looking upward, he realized the shop had a second level, but it didn’t appear to be meant for access by customers. That seemed like a perfectly good reason for Joe to head upstairs, to see if anything suspicious was going on.

  Despite his size and the rather rickety nature of the staircase, he was able to head upward in virtual silence, testing each step carefully just to make sure it would take his weight. As he climbed, he became aware of sounds above him, running feet and shouts from children. His heart began to pound, and he hurried now, not caring about being detected. If there were kids in danger, he had to save them.

  There was a door at the top of the stairs, and he opened it a crack, surprised to peer in at a brightly lit space. Several children were running around, laughing as they played a game of chase, while a young woman clapped her hands and tried to call them to order. After a moment they obeyed, moving out of Joe’s sight toward what must be the back of the room.

  He opened the door wider, needing to see what he was up against in the realm of opposition. Surprised, he stared in a at several tables where at least twenty children were seated, some of them with toys, others with crayons, seeming engrossed in their tasks. As well as the young woman who had crossed his line of sight, there were three other women, one of them older than the others. Some instinct must have alerted her because she glanced toward the open door.

  “Hello!” She called out in Urdu. “May I help you?”

  Given that he’d been expecting to be greeted with shouts and possibly even gunfire, Joe froze for a moment and then smiled at her. “Um, I thought there might be more rugs up here.”

  The older woman shook her head. “This is a daycare. My husband runs the rug shop. You should go down and ask for Ismail—he’ll help you find whatever you’re looking for.”

  “Thanks.” Joe watched for a few more moments, long enough to convince himself the woman wasn’t lying. The children seemed happy, not frightened like those he’d seen before. The atmosphere was pleasant and welcoming, and he realized that he’d misread the situation. A daycare… how could he have known?

  Chagrined, he headed back down the stairs, pulling out his phone. He texted Drew.

  There’s a daycare upstairs. Unless you’ve found bodies in rugs, I think we got it wrong.

  No bodies, just rugs, Drew texted back. What now?

  Regroup, Joe replied. Let’s meet back at the hotel and consider our options.

  It took nearly half an hour to get back to the hotel, since they’d decided to walk rather than use the driver Herc provided. As he too
k the elevator up to their floor, Joe’s phone buzzed with a text. Pulling it out, he read it quickly, and his heart began to pound.

  Call me ASAP! Pixel had texted both he and Drew. Important!!!

  Was something wrong with Finn? That was, of course, Joe’s greatest fear, but he forced himself not to hit the speed dial for Chris. He headed to their room instead, not surprised that Drew had beaten him back.

  “I hope this isn’t bad news,” he said, holding up his phone. “Nothing better have happened to Finn!”

  “I think we’d be hearing from Herc if that was the case,” Drew said, placing a steadying hand on Joe’s shoulder. “My guess is Pixel found something.”

  The nature of Joe’s relationship with Drew had been slowly changing over the course of the last week, since they’d bonded a bit over their shared interest in gay romances. Joe had found himself actually starting to relax in Drew’s presence, and oddly enough, the warm weight of Drew’s hand gave Joe a bit of comfort. “I hope you’re right.” He dialed Pixel’s number, putting the call on speaker so Drew could hear.

  The phone barely had time to ring before Chris answered, his words tumbling out in high-pitched excitement. “I think I found your dude!”

  Joe glanced at Drew. “Really? Which one, Chris?”

  “The cab driver,” Chris said. “I managed to hack into the local camera system, and I’ve been tracking him for the last couple of days. He dropped different people off in the same area—not conclusive, right?. But get this—dude picked up a known trafficker and took him to the same place. They got there maybe five minutes ago, and dude parked the cab and got out with the trafficker.”

  Joe’s heart began to hammer. “That has to be him! Drew, we have to get out there right now. This could be our chance!”

  “Well, let’s get a move on,” Drew said, his eyes alight with anticipation. “Get the stealth radios, and we’ll go.”

  “On it.” Joe hurried to his room, retrieving his radio, taking a few moments to double check his weapons and pick up extra magazines. The weather was too hot to get away with wearing a jacket to conceal the clips, but he, like Drew, was wearing pants with specially designed hidden pockets. Just as their ballistic armor was made to be conformal and virtually undetectable under their T-shirts, so the pants let them carry a good deal of equipment without appearing scary enough to spook civilians.

  Drew called for their driver, since the location Pixel had given them was across town. They were dropped off a couple of blocks from the actual location, and Joe gave the driver instructions to take a break and wait for their call. Sending him away was a calculated risk, since it removed one avenue of a hasty departure, but at the same time, Joe was sure that if they had to get away quickly, it wasn’t going to involve taking a chauffeured sedan.

  Pixel helpfully let them know the locations of the cameras he’d managed to hack, so they avoided them as much as possible as they moved closer to their target. Joe doubted that Abassi’s people were using them to monitor their surroundings, but they couldn’t take the chance.

  The area was definitely industrial, but there was an odd lack of vehicular traffic, almost as though it was a weekend instead of a normal workday. That in and of itself was suspicious, but considering how much money the trafficking ring and their handlers controlled, it was likely they’d rented out several of the surrounding buildings as a buffer against having their activities detected. As Joe and Drew moved closer, they began to hug the sides of buildings, taking care to watch for guards.

  They finally drew into sight of their destination, and Joe grimaced, noticing the fence around the area. “I only see the cab, no other vehicles. That doesn’t mean it’s just Abassi and his passenger inside. Do we storm the building, or wait for them to come out?”

  “If we wait, we won’t catch them in the act,” Drew said. “We don’t want another daycare situation. Let’s get inside and look around before we move on Abassi.”

  “Right.” Drew had a good point, and there was also the possibility that if they were in the building, if they turned out to have the wrong man, they could simply wait until he left before departing themselves. But Joe’s gut was telling him this was their guy, and that there was a chance he could put an end to the threat to Finn and himself once and for all.

  The fence was at least ten feet high, which ruled out being able to climb over it without being noticed. A quick look around the area, however, revealed that there was one building close enough to it that they could jump over and down from its roof. After making sure that they were unobserved, Joe and Drew gained the roof and then quickly jumped down, moving to the side of the building they wanted and hugging the wall.

  The building was made of cinderblock, the windows were of glass brick that was both thick and unbreakable. It was two-stories, with two access doors, as well as a tall metal roll-up door that would allow a truck inside. This didn’t seem like a place where the traffickers could hold people for long periods, but it did have all the signs of being a transshipment point, where human cargo was transferred between vehicles.

  The doors were, of course, locked, but from what Joe could see they weren’t alarmed. He removed a lock-pick set from one of his pockets and made quick work of the lock.

  “All set?” he asked softly, pulling his gun.

  Drew gave a curt nod, holding his gun at the ready. Joe opened the door, and they stepped into the building.

  Inside it was dark. Only faint, red emergency lights providing illumination, but there were several vehicles visible in the dimness. Joe closed the door quietly. He gestured for Drew to fan out so they could clear the area before determining their next move. Joe crept up one side of a line of trucks that filled the loading area, checking the space between each. He could see Drew doing the same thing from the other side. They met up again at the end of the row.

  “Nothing.” Joe pointed upward. There was a stairwell close by their position, obviously leading to whatever was on the second floor.

  “You’re the stealthy one,” Drew whispered, giving Joe a teasing smile. “Lead on.”

  Joe rolled his eyes, but he made his way to the staircase. He kept his gun at the ready as he mounted the steps. The second floor didn’t cover the whole of the building. Instead, it extended over half, almost like an oversized loft, with windows overlooking the floor below. Fortunately for them, the windows had either blinds or curtains obscuring them, though now that his eyes were fully adjusted to the low light, Joe could see illumination around the edges, indicating there were lights on. He kept his attention on the door at the landing, trusting Drew to keep watch for anyone who might enter behind them.

  When he finally gained the landing, he waited for Drew to join him, using the time to press his ear to the door. He could hear the voices of two men beyond the door, both raised as though arguing, but he couldn’t make out the words. It was anyone’s guess about how many other people might be inside, but Joe knew they were going to find out, and soon.

  By the time Drew was in place, the voices had receded, as though the men had moved deeper into the room. That was fine with Joe, since it meant their attention might not be on the door, and perhaps their entry might go unobserved. Drawing in a deep breath, Joe gripped the doorknob, turning it slowly to make sure it wasn’t locked.

  Amazingly, it wasn’t. Joe glanced at Drew, giving him a nod and a silent three count. On the final number, he pushed the door open. They slipped into the room, trying to be silent.

  Unfortunately, there was a guard by the door, and he turned with a shout of surprise, his hand going to his gun. Time seemed to slow down at that point. Drew stepped in to deal with the guard, clubbing him on the head with his gun. Even as the guard started to fall, Joe was moving away, deeper into the room, looking for Abassi.

  The human trafficker was at the far end of the room with two other men, one of whom seemed to be a guard because he was drawing a weapon. Joe lifted his gun, barking out a command in Urdu.

  “Drop it!”<
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  Abassi’s mouth opened in a shout, and the guard paid no attention, pulling his gun and firing a shot in Joe’s direction. It went wide. Joe returned fire, hitting the man in his gun arm, forcing him to drop the weapon.

  Abassi and the buyer seemed to have good survival instincts, since they dove for cover behind some of the beds that lined the room. For the first time Joe became aware of what he was seeing, and his stomach flipped over in horrified repulsion.

  Metal beds almost filled the room, although only a few at the far end seemed to be occupied at the moment. There were wrist and ankle restraints dangling from chains on each, no doubt used to restrain the captives who were brought here. Even as he noticed these things, Joe was rushing toward the far end of the room, determined to catch Abassi. There was a chance Abassi or the other man were armed, but Joe couldn’t risk there being another exit by which Abassi could escape.

  “Ismail Abassi!” He called out. “We have something to discuss!”

  There was no reply, but Joe hadn’t really expected one. When he reached the down guard he stopped, kicking the man’s weapon away. The guard cursed at him in Urdu, using his good hand to grip the arm Joe had shot. Blood seeped between his fingers. The guy would probably bleed out without medical attention, but Joe found he really didn’t care.

  “Be quiet or I’ll shoot you again,” he said, pointing his gun at the guard, unsurprised when the man glared at him but fell silent.

  Joe turned his attention back to locating Abassi. He saw movement behind one of the beds, and he reached out quickly, capturing Abassi by his jacket, yanking him to his feet.