by Kris Calvert
“Sir?” Fuller asked. “Do you have a moment?”
“Walk with me, then come back and give Agent Kelley an update.”
I walked away from both of them and heard Fuller say, “Are you okay to get home alone, Micah?”
“Are you for real?” she asked.
“Of course,” he replied. “I…just…you know…worry.”
I pressed the button on the elevator and watched the entire awkward scenario play out.
“I’m fine,” Micah said with an exhausted nod.
“Fuller!” I shouted when the elevator door opened with a loud ding. “Move it!”
When he finally joined me, I stared at him without saying a word.
“What?” he asked.
“Could you at least play hard to get? Now, what did you need to speak with me about?”
The doors opened and we were met by Agent Harlan Jackman.
“Harlan,” I said, shaking his hand and giving him a slap on the back. “I hear you were in Alabama?”
“Yes,” he said with a single nod. “You have a beautiful home. I’m going back today to set up security.”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my stiff neck. “I’m sorry about that. When this all came up, I just—well, Micah is family.”
Jackman nodded.
“Sir,” Fuller piped up. “You couldn’t get anything off the girl’s laptop?”
Jackman shook his head. “There’s some stuff on there, but nothing we could use as a lead. It came with her belongings from NYPD. She’d left it behind in her hotel room.”
“I read the report they took from her roommate. She mentioned she was going to see someone, Bull?” Fuller asked.
Jackman shook his head again. “Whoever Bull is, there’s no trace of him on that,” he said nodding to the MacBook under my wing.
“But—”
“Thanks, Harlan,” I said cutting Fuller off. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing. We won’t keep you. I know you’re a busy man.”
I opened the door into the parking garage and pointed for Fuller to move it. Out of earshot, I raised one eye brow and gave him the look I give Dax when he knows he’s deliberately disobeyed orders. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t they teach discretion at the Academy anymore?”
“Yes sir. It’s just. He’s not—”
“Rule number one, Fuller. Trust no one. Not even each other,” I said, walking away. Agent Fuller followed me. “What?” I asked, perplexed he was still on my heels.
“I was going to ride with you to your place. I want know what you found last night.”
Unlocking the car, I shook my head at him in disbelief. “Did you miss my lesson back there?” I asked thumbing toward the elevator. “Trust. No. One. That includes you.”
Steam rolled out of my shower. The bathroom smelled of bleach, no doubt from the endless cleaning and dusting of the place without a soul inhabiting it.
I hung my head and allowed the water to pound my neck and shoulders. I was so far out in left field with this case, I didn’t know who to explain what to. I’d come clean with Dan when it was over, but what if it didn’t end well? What if I couldn’t buy Frankie and all I had to show for the entire ruse was a virtual pile of Digicoins and an online identity where I’d apparently purchased illegal drugs and attempted to buy a nineteen-year-old girl?
“Fuck.” I muttered the word under my breath, shaving and washing up quickly. I was working against the clock.
Turning off the water, I reached for the white towel I’d hung on the hook outside the shower door. The house was completely silent. So silent, the sound of my own breathing was starting to get on my nerves.
I picked up my suit pants and jacket, wrapping the towel around my waist. Carrying everything into the master bedroom, I threw it all on the bed, pulling the card from Lars, my money clip and badge and the small pet tracker from my pockets.
Holding the tracker to the light, I could see the word Tartarus in white letters on the side. “What the hell?” I said, now searching for the card Lars had given me. Was it possible Lars’ contact was in fact Elias Warner? Thinking of the dark space filled with kids writing code, I muttered. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
I wondered what Elias was actually capable of on the electronics front. A kid like that with unlimited potential? He could write his own ticket.
Relaxing my shoulders, I closed my eyes and rolled my head, trying to ease the tension in my neck. A yawn escaped my mouth, and as the last bit of breath left my lungs, my throat constricted.
The smell of cheap aftershave and sweat filled my last gasp of breath. Whoever was on my back was burly and quiet—clearly trained to kill.
Tugging at the garrote that choked me, I yanked with all my strength, pulling the strangler across my back to flip over my head, crashing on the bed in front of me.
Dressed in black from head to toe, a ski mask covered his face. Reaching for the gun on my dresser, I felt my feet fly from under me. He was fast, and I was face down on the carpet with nothing to defend myself.
Flipping my naked body over, my left arm was pinned under his knee as he went for my throat again.
My eyes felt as if they were going to pop out of my head and I knew I had one chance—one—to get a punch off, before he killed me.
With everything I had, I landed a right hook, pushing him off of me. Still clutched in my palm was Eli’s tracker. With one stab to the back of his exposed neck, I tagged the bastard while he still reeled from my blow to his temple.
The doorbell rang and I looked to the security screen to see Fuller standing on my front porch. Crawling on my hands and knees, I reached for my gun, inadvertently pulling the phone from the bedside. I pressed the pound key to open the front door to the brownstone, letting Fuller in.
Coming to my feet, a sharp pain filled my head and a bright light saturated my view. Then, darkness.
“Agent Callahan?”
Blinking, I tried to focus. My head pounded and I felt like I was going to throw up. With a gasp and a wet cough, I rolled to my side.
“Mac? Are you okay?”
Lying naked on the hard floor, I pushed myself to a sitting position. “Did you see him?”
“No, sir. Sorry,” he said, “By the time I got up here, he was gone. It looks like he went down the fire escape off the back of your building. I should get you to a hospital, sir.”
“No,” I protested. “But hand me my pants, if you don’t mind.
Fuller pulled me from the floor and sat me on the bed, handing me the jeans and boxers I’d set out before being waylaid.
“What are you doing here anyway? I told you I was working alone on this.”
“Obviously, that’s not going so well, sir.”
“Don’t get cute, Fuller.”
“I came because I found the kid.”
I pulled on my jeans, then slopped the grey t-shirt over my head, digging my way into the armholes. I could see my bloodshot eyes in the mirror across the room. “What kid?”
“The one that was kicked out of the car and left for dead,” Fuller said, pulling a set of folded papers from his suit coat. “Brady Kurtz.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“A church-run home, sir.”
“Can we talk to him?”
“That’s the plan.”
I nodded.
“Sir, the ligature marks around your neck are serious. Your eyes are bloodshot. He really did a number on you.”
I shook my head. “No hospital. Just get me some ice. I need to get out of here. I’m on to something…somewhere.”
“How do you know?”
“Whoever wants me dead, doesn’t want me digging into what I have.”
“So now what?”
“Dig deeper.”
Shoving my gun down the back of my jeans, I pulled a blazer on and hustled down the stairs to the kitchen. I needed one more thing before leaving.
Pushing the bottles of alcohol to the side of the liquor cabinet
, I found it.
“Aha!” I said hoisting it in the air like a trophy.
“Are you going to make a martini, sir?”
“No, but if you’re coming with me, I’m going to need your phone.”
11
MAC
With Fuller now beside me, I drove to Tartarus making one pit stop at a convenience store for aspirin and two pre-paid phones. Both Fuller’s cell phone and mine were now inside the cocktail shaker and sitting in the front seat. I’d not yet heard from Elias which meant there was no response to my inquiry to buy 477800. Still, I needed Elias to take a look at Frankie’s computer. Even if Jackman couldn’t find anything, that didn’t mean Elias or Rory couldn’t. After watching them both in action, I knew the best and the brightest weren’t working for the government.
“Are you sure you should be driving, sir?” Fuller asked.
“For the love of God, Fuller, stop acting like my mother. Time is ticking and we don’t have much of it.”
“Fine, but this isn’t the way to the home.”
“I’m not going there. At least not yet.”
“Then where are we going?”
“Not we. Me. You’re waiting in the car.”
“What?” The rise in his voice let me know he didn’t like being treated like a kid.
“We’re onto something big—and I mean big. No one knows I’m working this case. If this is an inside job, then I need you watching my back. Got it?”
Fuller straightened himself in the seat and I knew he liked his new responsibility. “You think the Bureau is involved somehow?”
I cocked my head and winced in pain. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Pulling into the parking lot of the old abandoned bank, I turned off the ignition and looked at Fuller.
“Where the hell are we?” he asked.
“We’re nowhere. Now listen, be on alert for anything—anything at all. That includes more guys from the Bureau.”
“But—”
“No buts, Fuller. If a bird takes a dump on this car, you call me on the burner phone. Got it?”
Agent Fuller nodded, his red hair seemed more orange in the brightness of the sun and I wondered if Micah would ever take a chance on a ginger.
Taking the cocktail shaker from the front seat, I made sure Fuller wouldn’t do anything stupid, like allowing us to be tracked. I walked behind the bank and through the crumbling parking lot to the side door of the concrete block building. It was even more run down in the light of day.
I knocked on the door twice, then noticed the bell. Pressing, I waited for someone to come. Instead, I got a voice.
“Yes?”
“I’m Mac Callahan. I’m looking for Elias Warner.”
With a buzz, the door released and I was safely into the inner sanctum of Tartarus again. A weary-looking Elias opened the second vault-like door that allowed me into the hub of the organization.
Handing him the cocktail shaker and Frankie’s laptop, I smiled. “Just wanted you to know I was practicing safe sex,” I said walking past him. “Get on that laptop. See if you can track this Bull guy she was supposed to meet.”
“Aye aye, captain.” He took them from me with a smirk and shut the door, giving me a silent, follow me nod of the head.
Rory walked toward me as we made it to Elias’s workstation. Wearing jeans and a zip up hoodie, I could still see his white t-shirt with a keyboard and a finger pointing to the D key. Underneath, it read She Wants the D. For a moment I honestly thought if someone showed up here with a boat load of hookers, all the security procedures they practiced would go out the window. Just by looking at Rory in his thick glasses and long, dark, unkempt ponytail, he wasn’t getting women by the handful. Elias had even confessed to tracking his ex. At least he looked as if he’d seen the inside of a gym in the last decade.
“I need to tell you something,” I began.
“Yeah?” Elias asked. “What?”
“I implanted the tracker you slipped in my pocket in someone.”
“What?”
“I didn’t mean to. I was being strangled and it just so happened to be in my hand, so I stabbed him in the neck with it.”
“Nice,” Rory chimed in unsolicited.
“Can you track the guy?” I asked.
“Depends. Do you think you implanted it correctly?”
“Dude,” I said sinking into a chair beside his desk. “I have no idea. He was trying to kill me so I was a little preoccupied at the time, but whatever. Any reply to my inquiry for Frankie?”
“You mean the girl you think is Frankie,” Rory said, pointing his finger down at me with a wink.
“It’s her. I know it.”
“As of this morning, no. But I’ll check again.”
“Shitfuckinfire boys, this is important. I need you to stay on top of this!”
Rory stopped in his tracks at my words, and Elias shrugged with a laugh, looking over his shoulder to his friend. “I told you.”
“Look…Agent Callahan. We’re doing you a favor. Some of this is highly illegal you know. You could turn us all in and walk away.”
“I won’t,” I replied. “I just need to get the girl back and then I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
“And you and I are square from that moment forward, Callahan. Got it?” Elias’ tone was quiet, but I knew he was serious. Having me around was a liability to his operation.
“Yes,” I replied.
“We’ve got a reply and a photo,” Rory shouted over his shoulder.
“Put it up on the big one.” Elias pointed to a theatre sized screen on the far wall.
My heart sank, and I let out a gasp. There, hanging naked by her hands from the ceiling, with her feet bound and a ball-gag in her mouth was Frances Reszke—little Frankie.
“Holy shit,” I muttered. “It’s her.”
“They’re confirming she’s for sale,” Rory said, his voice dropping at the sight of her naked and ten feet tall across the wall.
I dropped my head into my hands, unable to process what Frankie had probably endured to this point. I had to pull it together. I needed to think like an agent, not a big brother.
“What now?” I asked. “How do I get her?”
“You mean purchase her,” Elias replied, giving Rory a nod. In turn, he took her off the big screen and back to Elias’s computer only.
“You have to make a bid, but whatever you bid, you need to be able to back up in Digicoins. That’s the only way they will allow you to pay for her. It’s untraceable money and you’ll have to front it all. We don’t have that kind of cash lying around our little operation.”
I looked to Elias. “How much will it take to get her? I don’t want to bid too low and I don’t want to negotiate.”
“Yeah,” Rory said. “But you don’t want to come off as too eager either. You’ll set yourself up to either pay a million dollars, or they’ll just terminate communications with you all together if they’re suspicious.”
“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll bid on her and another girl from the list at the same time. If they think I’m working the system to get just one of the girls, maybe I’ll look more legit. At best, I get both of them out of there.”
“Yeah, and worst, they close up shop and go dark.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If they get suspicious, they’ll just move their operation somewhere else, hanging on to the girls or guys, selling them at a later date—that is, if they can keep them alive.”
“Shit.” I sank into the chair staring at the photo. “I don’t have a choice. I need to get her out.”
Elias popped his eyebrows. “Let’s get her out then. How much do you want to bid?”
“Again, I don’t want to appear too eager. What’s the going rate for a girl?” As the question left my lips, I realized what a sick world it was. I knew now why Dan Kelley couldn’t sleep at night.
“Somewhere between twenty-five and fifty thousand,” Rory said. “I took the liberty of d
oing a little research for you. If you want just a kid, like a Haitian off the streets of Port au Prince, you could have one for three hundred dollars.”
I gasped. “What?”
“If you want one off the streets but older, you know…like fifteen, the price goes up to about ten thousand. But because she’s American, it’s a higher price. They’re expecting someone with money to come forward. Someone who can keep her away from the world and do with her whatever they want until they decide to dispose of her. The English speaking go to high bidders with rooms ready to keep them as sex slaves. And there’s something else they’ve included with the photo.”
“What?” I asked, not knowing if I wanted the answer.
“They’re saying she’s a virgin—so she’s going to be a prime commodity.”
“Let them know I want her, and I’ll pay seventy-five thousand dollars—as long as they feed her, leave her virginity intact and don’t make any marks on her. Make it seem as if I have some sort of fetish for virgins.”
Elias and Rory looked at each other.
“What?”
“It could send up a red flag,” Rory said.
“Look, I want to get their attention. Seventy-five thousand dollars is going to do that. Plus, I’m working from an established account—yours—if they check up on me. I’ll give you cash to put the seventy-five K in the Digicoin account, and let’s get going.”
Rory nodded and walked back to his own computer station. I followed, leaning over his shoulder as he replied to the sellers on my behalf.
“Is there any way to track these assholes?”
“Do you know anyone at the NSA who’d be willing to let us use their Quantum program or FoxAcid?” Rory asked with a sarcastic laugh. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“Maybe.”
“Mac,” Elias called out. “Are you sure this is the same girl?”
Looking over my shoulder I saw the bright smile of Frankie in a series of photos with her friends Elias had pulled from her computer.
“Yes. Check out the tattoo on the hand. It’s in exactly the same place. Could two dark haired girls have the same tattoo? Sure. In the exact same location on the hand? No.”