Matt reached for Alex again, but she pulled away. “I have to go. Don’t follow me. Please, don’t follow me.” When he looked at her so… She couldn’t take it. She shouted, “I mean it.”
“No, Aili, honey, please. I’m sorry. I—”
She stood and started to head out the back door, but she looked back at him, fuming. “I protect my daughter! I always have. Since the second she was first in my arms. How dare you even imply that I don’t care if—”
Matt’s eyes were wide, and he held his hands in surrender when he interrupted her, “Aili, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean you. I—”
“You can’t understand. Stay here. I have to go.”
Alex bolted through the back door, letting it slam behind her. She ran through the yards, jumping fences when she needed to, making her way toward the house where Beck and company stood watch over the little girl she’d raised as her own for the last four years.
Why did this have to happen now? Maybe she’d have made up with Matthew. Maybe she’d have even told him her name eventually—without outside encouragement—and they both could have forgotten it in the next breath. Maybe he’d have given her that ring. Maybe they’d have even gotten married, and she’d have finally gotten to sleep—to make love—with him. Maybe they could have driven off into the sunset like in all those cheesy movies, and maybe she finally would have been able to escape the horror of the night that Katya Kostaskaya had died.
Man, Beck, even to bring back the memories! Beck, who would sooner die than mind his own business. Why couldn’t they have sent someone else? Anyone else. Why did he have to bring Aili MacIntire and all of her mistakes back home to Alex Adelaide’s doorstep? Just when she was starting over! It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right.
Aili MacIntire was best off in her grave. Aili MacIntire had deserved to die. Like her father had always said, Aili MacIntire was too smart for her own good.
Aili’s hands trembled just a bit as she organized her notes. This was an important meeting. She was in the same room in the former Shangku police station where she had pitched Agent Beck and the rest of his team on her request for electronic surveillance in the jungle near Ivanovich’s compound. And in ten minutes she’d pitch him, alone this time, on an operation based on some extremely sensitive intelligence their digital recorders had gathered.
The problem with information this sensitive, she was afraid if he knew what she was asking, he’d be too alarmed to agree. Not that he would participate in any kind of cover-up — Benedict was a straight arrow if ever one had existed—but he might look for the go-ahead from way up the Interpol food chain. If that happened, their operation would be worthless. At the very least, it would get caught up in bureaucratic red tape while the children would go on being abused dozens of times every day. At the worst, it would hit a brick wall of government corruption, while children, two in particular, were murdered to hide it. And she couldn’t live with that. Too much was at stake.
She was afraid he would think she was making a logical leap, only trying to justify the months of surveillance they’d recorded at so much risk and expense. She was afraid he’d give their operation, her first case as an actual agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, away to people who didn’t care.
She had to argue her theory first, convince Beck that this operation would build a case against the Big Fish for whom they’d trawled so long. Her arguments had to be as solid as the Rockies. And after he was convinced by her reasoning, only then could she tell him who they were trying to catch.
Benedict came into the room then, his tea in hand and an expectant half-smile on his face. He had already guessed this was more than an average briefing. But if he had any idea what she had heard, there would be no smile at all on his face.
Well, she told herself, it’s Go Time.
He pulled out a chair and flopped into it. “Is this about that kid?”
“The baby.”
“Yes. The baby.”
“Yeah. Well, how many times in two decades has Ivanovich let a baby be born in one of his brothels?”
He tsked. “This would be the first.”
“So that baby is important.”
“It’s a special case, for sure.”
“This birth wasn’t an accident. Especially now. With all the birth control available? And Ivanovich can’t possibly have an aversion to abortion. Even if the girl managed to hide the pregnancy for a long time. Even if she gave birth before he knew it, which is extremely unlikely considering how little these girls wear, he wouldn’t have any problem killing a newborn just like he has killed so many young girls and boys over the years.”
He shrugged and sighed. “Yeah, he’s a regular monster.”
“So because there is a live baby in that compound, we can only conclude that baby is useful, in some way, to Ivanovich.”
“Agent MacIntire, we went over all of that when I approved your surveillance.”
She nodded and tapped her pen on the table, clicking the tip out of then back into the grip. “Well, I’ve been wondering why the baby is useful to Ivanovich. Certainly not because of the mother. Desperate little girls are a dime a dozen all over the world. This baby can only be valuable because of who the father is.”
“Sure. Blackmail factor, right?”
Aili shook her head adamantly. “If Ivanovich were out for blackmailing customers, there would be a lot of babies in his brothels. How many rich clients does he have? How many powerful ones? It would be hard to pick one over another. Besides, mongers talk, you know that. All those anonymous online bulletin boards they have? What if it started getting around that Ivanovich was blackmailing johns? That would be the end of his career in the sex trafficking industry. And when a career in that industry ends, it often ends in a shallow grave.”
He fidgeted with his tea cup. “So what do you think it is then?”
She held up an index finger. “The only reason for Ivanovich to want something to hold over the father of this baby is because the father of this baby has something to hold over him. Which begs the question, what could someone possibly hold over a man like Ivanovich?”
“Money.”
“He obviously has a fortune at his disposal, yet he uses it only when he has to disappear. The rest of the time, he practically lives like an animal.”
“Family?”
“If he has any family left, maybe he does care about them. But to find his family, you’d first have to know who Ivanovich is. And every law enforcement agency in the world has had two decades and has not been able to figure that out.”
“Prosecution, then.”
“He’s escaped that all over the world for decades. And soon as someone gets close, he disappears with his whole household to a completely different corner of the world and burns everything to the ground. Somehow Big Fish, that powerful boss of his, has always protected him. Cops and officials are corrupted and bribed. Witnesses are intimidated, sometimes they disappear completely. We had to chase him to bloody, war-torn, refugee-filled Shangku, for goodness’ sake.”
He threw up his hands. “So what do you think someone could have on him, Agent MacIntire? Obviously you don’t like any of the usual ideas.”
“Actually, I’m not trying to shoot down your ideas. I’m just pointing out how hard it would be to get leverage on this man. I actually think it’s all of those things, and more besides, including his career and his very life. But who is the only person in this world who could be holding any of those things over Ivanovich’s head?”
And Beck got it right then. “Big Fish. His boss.”
“Exactly. Big Fish controls the purse strings. Big Fish knows where this ‘John’s son’ came from. Big Fish can decide whether or not he’s allowed to ghost his operation the next time any cops get close. Big Fish can let him keep his job; Big Fish can have him shot in the back during his breakfast tomorrow. Big Fish is the only one in the world that Ivanovich could want leverage on. Big Fish is that baby’s father.”
“And you were thinking this all along.”
Aili nodded.
“And you thought your surveillance might uncover something about the child’s paternity.”
Aili nodded again.
“Did it?”
Aili raised her eyebrows. “Who is Big Fish? When I was first assigned to this case as an analyst, that was the question I was supposed to look into. Because he’s the one protecting Ivanovich, and at least a dozen more like him all over the world. If we took Big Fish down, we would have a much, much better chance at the middlemen like Ivanovich. We might actually, finally, get to free some of the children trapped in these brothels and imprison some of the men responsible for their torture.”
“And that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. So who is Big Fish? Even three years ago, I’d have been able to give you a pretty good profile. He’s obviously male, most likely somewhere between fifty and seventy years old. He’s probably from a first world nation. He’s extremely well-traveled. He’s probably white.”
Beck nodded, and Aili took a breath and adjusted her folder before going on. “Professionally, he’s wealthy. His interests in forced prostitution are great, but he has some kind of legitimate enterprise to explain his wealth and to launder the money from this operation. He has a Mensa-level IQ and at least one advanced degree and speaks multiple languages. He has great political power.
“Personally, he’s arrogant. He’s charming, but many people would also find him off-putting. He’s a man that a lot of people will want to get close to, but that few will want to stay close to, so he probably has been divorced multiple times. He’s likely been sued for mistreatment by employees in his legitimate enterprises, but because of his political power and corruption, none of the suits or charges ever went anywhere.”
Beck took a sip from his cup. “You know this man pretty well even if you’ve never met him.”
“Keep all that in the back of your mind and think about this: why did we, our team, come to Shangku? Why did Interpol and the FBI think this was a good opportunity to take down Ivanovich and find Big Fish when both of them have dodged prosecution for decades?”
“The civil war. And the refugees.”
“Not exactly. Not the unrest, the refugees, and the camps themselves, but what followed them here. The only reason we feel like we have a chance to get him here is because of the way the United Nations has stepped in to try to help the refugees and moderate the situation. We feel like we have ‘back-up’ here, because of their oversight.”
“And we do, of course, where there was no chance before. Because the Shangku government would never have prosecuted Ivanovich, never mind his boss. Not if they had eternity and all the evidence in the world. The Shangku government was simply too weak and too corrupt to stand up to these sorts of people.”
“And that’s why Ivanovich came here in the first place. Things got really hot in the States. The FBI came really close to him in Ohio and then in Indiana, and he wanted to be somewhere where he and Big Fish had a little bit more control of the government situation. So why does he stay here now that the U.N. has stepped in?”
Beck leaned forward in his chair. “Because the mongers here now are among the peacekeepers.”
“Yeah, but there are mongers crawling in every sewer around the world. He could go anywhere, he would never be short of clients. Besides, he’s always had that sixth sense about when he was being investigated. We’ve been here months. Why hasn’t he ghosted yet? In twenty years, he’s never stayed in one place this long anyway. Why does he take that much of a risk? How could it possibly be worth it?”
“Well, you’re right about that. He’s never been a big risk taker.”
“So he must think he’s safe here. He must believe his boss can protect him here. And now that one of his slaves has given birth to his boss’s child, his boss will have to protect him. Because not even Big Fish could get away with having a child living free anywhere that has half of his DNA and the other half from a kidnapped, enslaved, teenage prostitute.”
Benedict Beck sat in silence a moment. Finally he said, “What did you hear on your recordings, Agent MacIntire?”
It was time. She played it for him. His eyes widened. He covered his mouth with his hands. Only hushed and through his fingers, he said, “Oh, dear God, help us. Tokan.”
Tokan, that insufferable, arrogant prick that seemed to believe himself directly descended from the mythical Norse gods. Tokan, the thrice-divorced lawyer, politician, and professor. Tokan, who had inherited his father’s European car repair empire. Tokan, the top guy in what was thought to be the world’s premier humanitarian organization.
Edward Tokan, currently the Secretary-General of the United Nations.
Chapter Nine
Alex stole back into the house as quietly as she could, but it was kind of hard to surprise three trained spies. Beck met her in the front hall to ask how it had gone, but his brow wrinkled when he saw the look on her face.
“I told him,” she said. “Are you happy?”
“Is he angry?” he asked her, eyebrows raised.
“Not at me.”
“He didn’t want to come?”
“I told you already, I do not want him here.” She brushed past him the second time that night and collapsed on her couch.
“Aili—”
“Oh, come on, Beck. Like you need a third civilian to guard, anyway.”
He sat down beside her. “First of all, you’re not a civilian now, and I doubt you will be ever again. Second, the reason I think he should be here has nothing to do with tactics. Though I can’t imagine how having a protective lover and father—”
“He’s not her—”
“Except he is. For all practical purposes, he is. And having him between you and the bad guys would probably not be a bad thing for either of you.”
“Unless he got hurt.”
“He might keep you and little Aggie from being hurt, if you let him. But like I said, that’s not why I think he should be here. That’s a lot more personal.”
Alex sighed heavily and threw her hands into the air. “Yeah, it’s personal, Beck. So why can’t you mind your own business?”
“Is it a crime to want to root for you? Is it a crime to care, to wish that now you had better than you’ve always gotten?”
A few tears escaped Alex’s eyes. In a broken voice, she asked, “Why did you believe in me, Beck, when I got to Shangku?”
“Why didn’t you believe in yourself?”
She didn’t answer.
“When you got there, I saw a miserable little girl. Not unlike a lot of the ones we were fighting to free. But you were tough and sharp. You were lovely, a brilliant analyst and a competent new agent.”
Her responding laugh had all the humor of a train wreck.
“You were. It was all that misery—all that fear—that got in your way. You were beyond passionate, and that was great. But your impatience to prove yourself made you anxious, and that anxiety gave way to an unnecessary urgency that compromised your judgment. I know the Bureau didn’t invest a lot of confidence in you, and I’m sorry about all the political nonsense. But it was never because of any lack of skill on your part. That place is full of profilers, you know, and their concern all along was that your insecurity left you vulnerable to self-sabotage. And that’s exactly what happened.”
Another sardonic laugh. “You don’t have to remind me. Why didn’t you see what they saw? Why didn’t you stop me before I screwed everything up?”
“I did see it coming, but I hoped if someone tried treating you better, it would play out differently. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough, but someone had to have enough hope to try. I was there, so it had to be me.”
“You tried to warn me, but you should have stopped me, Beck. You should have been a boss, not a cheerleader. You shouldn’t have let me kill Katya and ruin the whole operation.”
He gave her a focused look and started to speak slowly. “I
am terribly sorry Katya died, but you didn’t kill her. That was an accident more than it was anything else. And you didn’t ruin the operation, Aili. I am dreadfully sorry if that is what you believed all these years, but it’s not the truth. At all. Not even a little bit.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“I’m serious, MacIntire. Don’t you remember what happened after that night?”
“Yeah, Ivanovich escaped, and Tokan vanished.”
“Of course they ran! Neither of them was ever going to stick around and hold out their hands to be cuffed. If that’s what you expected, you need to reread your Criminal Psychology 101 textbooks. What I mean is, do you remember what happened at the brothel?”
She shrugged. “The guards left, and it closed down.”
“Well, that’s part of the truth, but not the good part. When the guards got back from chasing you and the baby through the jungle, they went back to the brothel, but Ivanovich was already gone. And they abandoned it. The U.N. peacekeepers arrested all but one of them at different Shangku border crossings throughout the following week. And what about the children?”
Alex sighed brusquely. “What about them?”
“Nineteen teenage and preteen girls and five young boys were left in the brothel by themselves, unguarded. While you and Katya’s baby—her living, safe baby—were still on your connection flight to Paris, Interpol agents walked through the front gates and rescued all of those child slaves, without a single shot fired. They were taken to an aftercare program in Moscow, a program funded by an American-based NGO. They were given counseling and love, and the older ones were given vocational training. After six months, twelve of them had been returned to their families. I heard a couple months ago that one of the older girls is married now and expecting her first child.”
Alex wrestled with her tears. “But not Katya Kostaskaya. She didn’t go back to her family.”
“No, Katya went to God. But those children, the ones you tried to save that day, the ones you risked your life for because you couldn’t stand the thought of them being stuck with Ivanovich a year or more while we built a case… those children only waited one more day. And today, every single one of them is free, and safe.”
Liberation Song Page 10