Seven of Swords

by Knight, JJ

  Crystal O’Donnell. I had no idea.

  “So you want to start a war over her?” I ask.

  “If that’s what it takes. I will not have them sending anyone, much less a woman, to infiltrate my training program and make my top operatives look foolish.”

  I had managed to do that all on my own. They were all right. The action sequence was ridiculous. Recording my movements was stupidly easy. I’d found one of her little marble cams days after she stole the swords.

  She had known all along what my weaknesses were. And she’d always had a plan.

  “She’s good,” I say. “About as good as I’ve seen. Maybe you should show that some respect.”

  He nods at the guards sitting a couple feet from me. A sudden blur becomes a fist smacking into my nose.

  I take the hit. My nostril fills with blood that drips down onto Antony’s shackle, marring the shiny silver surface.

  “Hitting a bound man,” I say. “Oh, what has the mighty Antony come to?”

  Antony nods again, and the fist collides with my face a second time.

  Now the blood flows more freely, down my white shirt.

  “Dammit, I just had this shirt cleaned,” I say.

  Antony shakes his head. “You know, Jacob, this is why I always liked you. Even under the most dire circumstances, you always have that bitter sort of humor.”

  It isn’t doing me much good now.

  He sighs. “You were the perfect leader. Hated women trying to do a man’s job just as much as I did. And now look at you. Telling me to respect that filthy lying whore.”

  I might be body-shackled, but I can still move. I lurch forward like a mummy come to life and smash my forehead into his.

  “Bloody fucking hell,” he says, pushing me off him. He gestures to the guard. “Keep him down.”

  The man rolls me on my stomach and puts his boot on my neck. My rage is incredible. I grit my teeth, blood flowing down my face. “Do not fucking disrespect her.”

  “If you’re lucky I won’t kill her.”

  I didn’t worry about that. Jade was safe. She’d get to her father.

  I just had to play my cards carefully for the next few hours and free myself from this odious man’s clutches. I was done with the Den. All of it. I had many options, but the most important one would be to find the location of a certain blond, pixie-haired woman.

  * * *

  I certainly didn't expect the location Antony brings me to.

  As the limo slows to a stop, the guard lifts me to sit on the seat with a sharp, “Behave yourself.”

  We’re at the back entrance to Club Y, Antony’s bondage club. He uses it for many things. Finding the best girls to train in seduction. Locating the best marks for heists. Blackmail. Money laundering. He particularly likes making the female thieves do time here in order to get in his good graces. He likes to watch them fuck clients and then turn the money over to him.

  I glance down at my bloodied shirt and shackles and ask, “So am I suddenly into bondage?”

  Antony chuckles. "I sure will miss that humor. Shut up and put on a clean shirt."

  The guard next to me scoots closer and unfastens the shackle. A young woman enters the limo, holding out a fresh shirt.

  I unbutton the old one and toss it aside. “I hope you consulted my tailor.”

  “Shut up," Antony says. “I’m trying to decide exactly what to do with you."

  I shrug. I've been in tighter spots than this one. But I don't say that. There's no point in antagonizing him.

  The woman cleans my face with a damp cloth as I button the shirt. Antony gives me a nod. "Nobody is setting their guns to stun," he warns. "Don't misbehave. It's my club. I can dispose of a body.”

  “Have I told you lately how charming you are?"

  Antony grunts. One of his guards exits the limo, and we head out into the early evening light. I wonder about Jade, if she's awakened yet. I left the bunker in what I affectionately call mutiny mode, which means every action that does not match my typical learned behavior means that the entire bunker will fill with a sleeping agent.

  You could technically die in there, continually setting off the sleeping agent until you were too dehydrated to wake up again. There is no failsafe.

  But Jade already knows enough to get out, if she uses her head.

  As for me, I have to focus on Antony's endgame. I'm not sure what he's after exactly. Yeah, he's annoyed that I won't give up Jade’s location. By tomorrow it won't matter. I won't know where she is.

  Two doorman open the back entrance to the club. One of them looks at me and says, “Welcome to Club Y, where we take it further than X.”

  He's about to give me the rest of their marketing jingle when Antony says, “Can it."

  We walk along a red carpeted hallway lined in satin. I’d been to Club Y once before, in the days when I thought it was fun to fritter away all my heists on self-indulgence. And this one could break the bank for sure. The entrance fee alone was five figures.

  It changed my life at the time, introducing me to a taste I was unaware of. The thirst for domination. And it provided the means to quench that thirst.

  And the girl. I’d never forgotten the encounter. The madam had set me up with a girl far too young and tender and fresh-faced. She had long red hair that fell down her back. A willow-wisp of a girl who seemed like she should break. Green eyes like the name they gave her.

  Emerald.

  And man, she did a number on me. She did not break at all. She stripped for me. Danced for me. Begged me to spank her, tie her, fuck every part of her. I could not get enough. Twenty-four hours I spent there. The madam had to draw me out, exhausted, dehydrated, completely addicted.

  I went back two days later to do it all again, but she wasn't there. They showed me girl after girl, but it wasn’t the same. I left, and after that I invested my spoils back into real estate. And that's what got me where I am.

  I checked with Sylvester regularly to see if she’d ever turned up in his employ, to no avail. Probably by now she has married some jerk on Wall Street and spends her days raising rug rats. This was all six years ago. She’d be a grown woman, no longer so eager, so tender, such a contradiction.

  Being here is bringing back that angry, bitter loss it took me years to shake. Damn Antony. I will get out of these dirty walls as soon as possible.

  We turn a corner, and the men walking ahead open an elaborately carved wood door.

  The room tries to give off an old-money vibe. Everything is carved oak and brown leather with brass studs. He has an antique globe of the world on the corner of his desk.

  Nobody's fooled. Antony settles behind his big desk on an oversized leather office chair. He pivots back and forth, watching me. I stand for a moment, then sort of decide to hell with it, and sit down in one of the side chairs opposite his desk. I'm not going to stand there like a soldier while he berates me. He may run the Den, but in every other way, I have earned my own stature.

  He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, elbows out. It seems forced to me, like he's trying to put on the role of a CEO to some lackey who misbehaved.

  I’m over it, and anxious to get to my apartment, my backup phone, and my surveillance of the Pennsylvania bunker to see what happened to Jade.

  “What is this all about?” I ask.

  He doesn't answer for a while. He seems to relish this control he has over me.

  While he tries intimidating me with silence, I glance around the room to get my bearings. Both walls are lined with bookshelves, which means there can be any number of things hidden within the cabinets. Cameras. Gas nozzles. Weapons. There is no way to really assess the threat.

  I lean back in my chair, mirroring his pose. This seems to annoy him.

  “There are things that we in the Den hold most sacred,” he begins.

  Great. He's going to deliver a monologue.

  "One of them is that we don't let a woman dictate a man's game."

&nbs
p; "Your opinion on female thieves has been made clear since training," I say.

  “Silence,” he bellows. “You will listen to me. Women are not to be given positions of power. Honor is not instilled in them. They use their bodies to control men at every opportunity."

  “It seems to me it is more often men who impose their bodies upon the women.”

  He leans forward. “What has happened to you, Jacob? You used to be one of mine. Now you act as though this tricky girl is something to take seriously. She obviously controls you by her pussy.”

  “Maybe I value her.”

  He lifts his eyebrow. "She played a switch with your call girl, a predilection which is costing you today. She stole things right out from under your nose, and now our buyers are losing faith in our operation. They stuck their necks out to bid on the swords. When something like this happens, it doesn't just impact the thief. It impacts the entire ring.”

  "I accept this," I say. "So what is your solution?”

  “The swords are no longer your concern. We are in the process of examining footage of that woman to determine where she stashed them. You may forget you ever stole them. You will spend the next six months as a pleasure servant here at Club Y, the same punishment I give to low ranking members of the Den who fail."

  I carefully keep my incredulity off my face. "You're going to take one of your top thieves out of commission for six months so he can be a fuck toy?”

  “Yes. Furthermore, you will be stripped of all assets, and those will be returned to the Den. You will be allowed to return to the ring after the six months as a fourth-rank and start over."

  Despite knowing he can only access a portion of my wealth, since most of it is hidden all over the world, my reaction is explosive. "It doesn't work that way. There are legalities. Leases. I own four buildings. If you think I'll sign over any of that, you're insane. I’ll kill you first."

  He chuckles. “So easily angered, Jacob. Maybe it’s good we’re reverting you to the lower training level. Realize that this is not an option. And it's not like we work under the laws that govern others."

  I tighten my jaw. Whatever. This club can’t hold me. I’ve escaped museums. Bank vaults. It’s ridiculous for him to try.

  "Enjoy your time in Club Y. Because of your general knowledge, we’ll be using chemical restraints for you. Starting now."

  His hand reaches beneath his desk.

  I leap to my feet, but it is too late. I feel the pinch of something on my neck.

  I reach for it. It's a damn dart. I'm assuming it has a tranquilizer. I turn to Antony. "Don't think this will go unnoticed among the other first ranks," I say. "Don't think that I don't have allies."

  He waves me off. "Why do you think your sanctions are so deep? No one is going to touch you when you have been consorting with our rivals." He smirks. “Well, they might touch you in Club Y. It’s not unusual for members to have sanctioned thieves blindfolded so they can fuck the ones who fucked them, as it were. I hope you have no enemies in the Den.” He grins.

  I slip my fingers into the waistband of my pants, where I store several antidotes to common poisons and drugs. But I've taken too long, and my anger has made the sleeping agent move through my veins with greater speed. Keeping calm is the name of the game when injected with something. I didn't follow the first rule.

  My knees buckle. I manage to land in the chair, but within seconds I slump over, my chest over the side arm.

  I don't go all the way unconscious, though. It's a sort of twilight sleep. I sense Antony leaving his desk and walking by. He pauses a moment to put his hand on my shoulder.

  "You have been one of my best," he says. "This is a sad day for me."

  I try to elbow punch him, but the effort comes off as slow and clumsy, like I am moving through water. He shakes his head and walks out of the room.

  Two women approach me. One is older than I am, her black hair set in tight curls

  "I’m Onyx,” she says. “Amethyst and I will be preparing you for your debut at Club Y."

  I look up into her face. She bears an unforgiving expression. She wears a black kimono that shimmers. Her hands are strong.

  The other girl is young. She has glossy dark hair and big kitten eyes. She looks worried as Onyx lifts me out of the chair. She also wears a kimono, hers pale purple. I had forgotten that little quirk of Club Y. Everyone is named for a jewel and dresses like it.

  My mind flashes with the memory of Emerald’s bright green kimono before she let it fall. I hold out my hands as if I could touch her pale skin, narrow hips, and slight breasts tipped in pink buds.

  “He’s pretty out of it,” Amethyst says. She wraps an arm around my waist.

  "I've been drugged," I say.

  “That’s just so you don’t do anything funny while we get you ready,” Onyx says. “It’ll wear off in about half an hour. You can still walk.”

  She gets right in my face to look into my eyes. “Yeah, he dosed you good. But you’ll be fine in a bit. You’ll be working under me, and I like my bondage slaves clearheaded. We don’t traffic here, and we don’t drug our workers. It’s a clean operation. I assume you chose to accept your punishment rather than be killed.”

  Right. Like that’s a choice.

  We head back out into the hallway, taking several twists and turns. I can't follow the path with my addled head.

  We arrive in a bright room filled with sinks and chairs, like a hair salon.

  The women draw me back into a shower stall large enough for several people.

  Onyx’s words are harsh. “Amethyst, undress him and put him in the basic attire. Hand him over to Pearl for grooming. Wax it all. Get the swelling down on his face. We want him ready for his first client by midnight."

  Amethyst peels away my shirt and removes everything I own, everything I conceal, and all of my weapons and defenses. Occasionally, I hold out an arm to stop her, but she pays me no mind.

  She sets me in a chair in nothing but my birthday suit, and another woman in a white kimono enters the small space.

  “Heya, handsome,” she says. “I’m Pearl. I’ll get you all fixed up.” Then she looks me in the face. “Oh, dang, boss man got you good. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine in a jiffy.” She holds up a little bowl of a strange aromatic paste. “Probably about the time I get the first strip off your balls, you’ll be good and awake.”

  Pearl kneels between my legs. This is unexpected. I thought Antony said this was punishment.

  She smears something soft and warm way down low.

  “You might want to hold on to the seat,” she says.

  I can’t imagine why I would want to do that. I feel amazing, with two beautiful woman looking at me, naked in a secluded room.

  Pearl reaches out, the back of her hand grazing my thigh.

  Then she jerks something.

  And yes, I’m awake.

  26

  Jade

  Once I have the key fob in my hand, I walk out into the bright Pennsylvania sunshine to find the car that goes with it.

  But outside there’s nothing but a dirt road and trees. The only part of the bunker that's actually visible is the rusty metal electrical shed. Everything else is buried in the hillside.

  But somewhere there has to be a car. Unless he took it.

  I walk back into the shed and step through the hole. The screen on the wall indicates that the air contamination is still 100%. Good. The last thing I need is those guys waking up while I'm trying to find a dang car.

  I feel certain one is here. If Antony got Jacob to leave, then it wasn’t by choice. He didn’t just drive off. Somewhere is a hidden garage.

  I walk through the rooms in the bunker, clicking the button. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

  Think. Where would he put his car?

  I mentally picture the structure of the bunker. The shed leads to the hillside, and directly behind it is this living area. The control room is at the same level to the left. The fake hotel is higher than the control room,
because you slide down to get to it.

  That leaves a space beneath the hotel room.

  Is there a way into it?

  The wall beeps. Sleeping agent complete.

  Dang it. I’m out of time.

  I hurry to the control room, where the men are still out on the floor. I take all the weapons I can find and toss them inside the cage, slamming the door shut so they can’t get to them. This will buy me more time.

  I examine the wall. The metal has seams at the corners but no door I can find. I click and click on the fob, but still nothing.

  The console beeps in the other room. I rush out to check the situation.

  Air contamination. 90%.

  Crap. Where could this car be?

  I go back outside the shed, pulling the gas mask off. I don't intend to go back in there. If I can't find the car in the next ninety seconds, I have to take off running. I grimace down at my flats. Not the best shoes for it. But I have no choice.

  If the garage space is in this hillside, there has to be a mega-exit for it to drive out of.

  I walk around the shed, clicking the key fob over and over again. The hill is covered in brush, broken rock, and trees.

  I walk through it, clicking madly.

  Then I spot something.

  It’s a strange outcropping of rock covered in vines and foliage, but it's a different variety than I see everywhere else.

  They were planted here later as something that would grow thicker than the native vegetation.

  To conceal.

  I click the key fob again. Nothing happens. There has to be a way into this thing.

  The space is big enough for a car. I know it is. I feel like I’ve found it.

  I find an actual piece of rock and scrape my finger across it. It's not real rock. It doesn't crumble properly. It's some sort of combination of concrete and gravel. I take a deep breath and think.

  What would Jacob do? He clearly intended for me to get out of the bunker. He had enough faith that I would get this far. What would he do with this key fob that I would know? All I can do is push this button over and over again.