Shaking his head, Eldon looked out the window, grimly smiling at the injustice of a vice officer potentially getting nicked on his last fucking op.
At least if he got his ass killed, he wouldn’t have to decide what to do with his life once released into the civilian world.
The road suddenly smoothed out and straightened, and they rolled up to what looked like a cattle crossing, little more than a steel grate in the roadway, flanked by triangular frames. What was interesting was the fact a ten-foot ivy-choked wall extended into the forest to either side of the grating. The truck’s tires made a teeth-rattling hum as they passed over the steel.
Beyond the wall, the trees had been cleared, leaving nothing but uniform verdant lawn for a hundred yards to either side of the roadway.
They drove another couple minutes, then followed a long, gentle rise up toward a cluster of white clapboard, low-slung structures, the group of buildings punctuated by a huge soaring A-frame house clad in cedar shake. It looked like a five-story ski chalet.
He’d never seen anything like it.
The road ended in a wide circle, several vehicles, including two white, windowless panel vans, parked neatly along one side.
A weathered wooden fence, encrusted in hunter green moss, ran along most of the perimeter of the circle, a single open gate punctuating its lines.
And there stood a sight that had Eldon rubbing his eyes once more. A girl, blonde and beautiful, dressed in little more than a snug white sleeveless top and a pair of tan shorts so brief they were practically panties.
But that wasn’t the only thing she wore.
Stout black cuffs at wrist and ankle, and a matching collar around her slender neck completed the ensemble. As did the swaying silver chains linking them all together.
Two hulking men flanked her, standing quite close to the girl, saying something to her. One of them was dressed in a slate-gray Armani suit that was probably worth more than Eldon’s life, his jet-black hair slicked back and gleaming. His partner, wearing a black coat that reached to mid-calf, was pointing at the girl. Her head was bowed, her mouth an anguished moue, a lock of her flaxen hair at her temple blowing in the chill breeze.
Nathan shifted the big truck into Park, draping an elbow over the side of his seat as he looked back at Eldon.
“Welcome to the farm.”
Though he knew he was stupid to do it, Eldon couldn’t help but stare at her. Nathan was at his side, silent as ever.
The girl met Eldon’s eyes once and in those blue depths he saw something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.
Hope.
Then she turned away, and the men followed her closely, like hyenas on fleeing prey. Eldon felt heat at his cheeks—a wholly alien sensation to him—as he watched the movement of her pert buttocks in the close embrace of those shorts.
You’ve got a job to do. Stop acting like a fucking hormonal teenager.
He had no idea what they were saying to her, but he wanted to wring their necks for hounding the poor girl.
She slipped through the gate and disappeared. Strangely, the pair of men pursuing her stopped just outside that boundary as if knowing they could advance no further. They watched her go for a moment, then turned back toward Nathan and Eldon, striding across the asphalt toward the parked vehicles. The man in the long coat looked back one last time toward the gate, a deep furrow creasing his high, tanned forehead.
His compatriot in the suit glanced toward Eldon, a sneer marring his otherwise handsome features. “What the fuck are you looking at?”
Nathan placed a gentle hand on Eldon’s shoulder, then stepped forward. His deep voice took on a threatening gravelly note, the sound eerily carried upon the soft, cool breeze.
“I’m looking at a couple fellas who need to be on their way. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
“Tour guide duty again, Nathan?” The man in the suit snickered.
His taller companion was silent, flicking a quick look at the hulking driver and picking up the pace of his walk.
Nathan said nothing, merely undoing the last button of his bomber jacket. The men got the message, and fled to a dark blue BMW. The tires screeched along the asphalt as they sped away, Nathan watching them go.
“It’s the same every time. Assholes.” Nathan shook his head, then headed toward the gate. “Sorry about that. Let’s get you inside.”
“What do you mean about this being the same? They been here before?” Eldon walked alongside the driver, matching his pace easily.
“Never mind,” Nathan muttered. “Not important.”
“Don’t worry about our visitors. They’re harmless.”
Both Nathan and Eldon stopped in their tracks at the new voice, the tall, lean form of another man filling the opening of the gate. Dressed in a silk suit the color of dark emerald, the man extended a long-fingered hand, his bright teeth gleaming as he smiled.
“You must be the new hire. Dr. Forster’s right hand man, yes?”
Shaking the offered hand, Eldon nodded. “Well, medical assistant, actually. But I’ll take it.”
The towering man’s gaze glinted. “Travis Heller.” The man addressed the driver. “Trip was good?”
“Uneventful.”
Heller’s brow arched. “Evaluation?”
“Shouldn’t present any problems, I think.”
What are they talking about?
Then he had it. Glancing back down the road they’d taken to get here, Eldon squinted, trying to see if the BMW was still visible. But it had disappeared into the morning mist. Maybe those two were more trouble than the gruff driver let on?
“That should be all then, Nathan.” Heller shook his hand, clapping him on a shoulder. “Thanks for bringing him out.”
Nathan scratched the back of his neck. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Wait—what?” Eldon’s heart began to beat a little faster.
“Come on,” Heller said, slipping back through the gate. “I’ll show you around. You must be eager to get started.”
“Uh, sure. But how am I getting home? If Nathan’s not back until tomorrow…”
Heller winked at him, one hand on the top of the gate’s inner post. “Not tonight, that’s for sure. You’ve got too much work to do. We have very nice accommodations at the central residence.” He nodded toward the towering chalet. “You’ll love it. I promise.”
This is not good, Eldon. Not good at all.
He tried to shake off the uneasiness at the change in plans. He hadn’t anticipated an overnight stay, and another quick check of his phone confirmed there still wasn’t a signal for some reason. Bennett was bound to get antsy if he didn’t return, but he had little choice but to chance it. To resist the offer—if it could be called that—of accommodations was something he knew was going to be frowned upon. Besides, an overnight might allow him time to glean additional information.
He had nothing but hunches to go on, thus far, but he suspected that was about to change. And in a big way.
Let’s hope that ‘big way’ doesn’t involve your dumb ass in a shallow grave.
There was more to this than that though.
The girl.
There was something about her, the way she seemed to stand there and endure the harassment from those men, like a tall, elegant evergreen riding out the lashing winds of a coastal gale, her strange mix of strength and vulnerability fascinating him in a way he’d never experienced before.
But he didn’t even have so much as a name for her.
He gave the director the most relaxed smile he could muster. “Where to first? Gonna give me the grand tour?”
“Oh, absolutely. I suspect you’re going to find this place very interesting, Eldon.” The director extended an arm toward the complex of buildings clustered around the looming central residence. “Very interesting for all of us.”
Chapter 2
Following along the twisting white ribbon of a crushed rock trail, the director led Eldon into the heart of the compl
ex. Clustered around the dramatic, rough-hewn log facade of the chalet was a system of one-story, weathered wooden sheds and long, block buildings. At first glance, it resembled an industrial scale cattle operation, though in this case, the chief difference was that not a single cow could be seen.
Wisps of mist hung here and there just above the roof lines of the buildings, the trees in the distance that lined the huge property soaring up into the low clouds. Though the air was cool, somehow the temperature wasn’t as chilly as he would have expected, as if the ancient old-growth forest sheltered the site from the worst Mother Nature might throw its way.
“Excuse me for asking, Mr. Heller, but I was wondering what it is that is, uh, farmed here? I don’t see any cows…”
Still walking, the stones crunching beneath his feet, the man’s expression suddenly grew serious. “This is a place of punishment.”
Whoa.
Perhaps sensing Eldon’s shock, the director gave him a slow nod. “That’s not all, of course. It’s a place for reflection and training. And, if those ensconced here are lucky, of learning too.”
“So, I take it this isn’t an actual… farm?”
“No—at least not how it’s commonly understood.”
The path led up to one of the long, low-slung buildings, the shingles of the roof covered in a healthy coating of bright green moss at the seams. Heller stopped at the door, his hand around the weathered metal handle. “Dr. Forster hasn’t told you anything about what we do here?”
“No. I assumed I’d just be tending to the hands, or workers…”
Eldon looked around pointedly. The place seemed deserted.
Heller’s grin returned. “You will too. But that’s far from all you’ll see here, Eldon. Are you ready to find out what that means?”
The tall man had a strange stillness about him, almost a serenity that was equal parts comforting and unnerving. It reminded Eldon of his CO when he was deployed in Ninevah Province in Iraq—one of the very worst combat zones in that country. His company commanding officer, Captain Decker, had a quiet strength that he admired, that could inspire—but at the same time, an unbending strength Eldon was glad was on his side, and not the enemy’s.
“Lead on, sir,” Eldon said with a nonchalance as genuine as a three-dollar bill.
Swinging the door open, a blast of warmer, scented air washed over them.
The massive guard suddenly blocking the doorway surprised him, and Eldon’s fingers automatically fluttered at his hip, the habit of seeking his sidearm—the weapon that he’d consciously deprived himself of while on deep cover—one that he knew he’d never be able to fully unlearn.
You need to calm the fuck down, asshole.
The guard, a stocky, dark-haired wedge of pure muscle, his snug black t-shirt revealing a tribal tattoo stretching around an upper arm, looked entirely out of place at the rustic property. The formidable man broke into a smile. “Director, nice to see you down here. What’s the occasion?”
Heller shook the man’s hand and tilted his head toward Eldon. “Got a medical call. Dr. Forster couldn’t make it, so his assistant will be filling in today.”
His grin fading a little as he regarded Eldon, the guard waved them inside, nevertheless. “Welcome.”
Eldon didn’t miss the straps across one shoulder, nor the very familiar MP5 variant slung over the guard’s back. The submachine gun was just like the ones the security details of dignitaries and other various big cheeses used when visiting Iraq. Their security details were usually contractors—many of them ex-military—and always armed to the teeth.
“This is the punishment block,” Heller said, as coolly relaxed as if he were showing a museum exhibit.
Stretching down the length of the building were high-walled stalls on one side, complete with hinged, half-height doors like one would see in horse enclosures. Along the other half, in several alcoves spaced along the opposite wall, were what looked to be combination training and, for lack of a better term, torture chambers. Alongside comfortable upholstered chairs stood racks, crosses, and various sorts of padded benches. Chains and ropes hung from the rafters, the floorboards punctuated in places with stout D-rings, polished bright. Spot lights, overhead floods, and flexible flashlights ensured the area was well illuminated if required. Each space was equipped with a rack displaying numerous instruments of corporal punishment, from canes, to supple whips, to paddles of both leather and wood.
Two of the alcoves also featured stout steel cages, no more than three feet high and perhaps five feet long each.
Jesus Christ, what in hell is this?
He knew he was close to the jackpot now, but that excitement he usually felt at the imminent breaking open of a case was tempered this time. By dread, and something else entirely.
A sick sort of fascination.
Heller led him down the row of stalls, leaving the watching guard back at the main door, observing them more closely than Eldon had a good feeling about. The guard—and Heller, for that matter—were much too cordial for his tastes. There was something else going on here, and the fact he was totally in the dark about it, was not a good position to be in on a cover assignment like this. His instincts told him there was danger here. It might have just been nerves, but he knew he had to suck it up regardless. For now, anyway.
“Packing quite a punch isn’t he?” Eldon glanced back at the guard. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, right?”
Heller chuckled lightly. “Never can be too careful, can we? Some very valuable pieces of property cooling their heels here at any one time.”
Property?
Heller stopped at the corner of the first stall and leaned a hand against the rough timber. “This is where our inmates spend most of their time. Not very comfortable accommodations, but then they’re not supposed to be, are they?” Heller checked the gleaming silver watch at his wrist. “Most of them will be out at the harvest shed right now, so it’s a little quiet. But I had them keep Kelly back for you. She’ll be a little uncomfortable skipping a harvest, but I need you to look her over.”
It was at that moment that Eldon spotted the man leaning over the half-door to the stall at the very end of the row. He could just make out the hint of a deep voice, but it was impossible to tell what the stranger was saying.
“Ah, here they are. Come with me. I’ll get you in to see sweet Kelly.”
Heller led Eldon down to the waiting man who stepped back from the stall at their approach, raising a hand in greeting. Dressed in gray slacks with a dark vest over a white button-down, the man looked like he’d stepped out for lunch from a downtown office. His dark eyes scanned Eldon for a moment before alighting on Heller. “Director, uh, thank you for coming down.”
“We’ll just take a quick look at her, Mr. Chase, then you can take her over to harvest. Hopefully, she’s learned her lesson.”
“I, uh, suspect she has, Director.” Something passed between the two men, a slow smile creasing Mr. Chase’s lips as he raised his voice ever so slightly, continuing. “She’s inside, dozing. Endorphins always make her nod off.”
Mr. Chase produced a silver key, unlocking the heavy, gold-plated padlock at the door’s latch, and swinging the door outward.
Holy shit.
Inside, lying curled up on a thin mattress atop a low wooden pallet was a young woman. Her arms were folded under her head, her dark, straight hair drawn into a messy ponytail. Other than the leather cuffs at her wrists and thick black collar clasping her neck, she appeared to be nude. Pert, apple-sized breasts were just visible huddled under her elbow, the glint of steel betraying the studs piercing the prominent, blush-colored nipples. A light blanket striped with garish thread of every color of the rainbow—strikingly reminiscent of a horse blanket—was draped over her legs, the smooth pale curve of an upper hip just exposed above the fabric. Her eyes were closed, her swollen rose lips pouting in her slumber.
The pallet and mattress dominated the center of the space, the head of the mattress butte
d against the far wall. Incandescent fixtures mounted low in each corner illuminated the area in muted, warm light. The only other furniture was an unvarnished three shelf bookcase of dark wood next to the bed, the shelves containing numerous tins, bottles, tubes and small boxes. On the lower shelf, a stack of white hand towels formed a strange juxtaposition against a mini rack from which hung an array of tiny, intimate leather whips, paddles and straps. Several phalluses, vibrators, and a massive black Hitachi wand were lying upon the top shelf.
The space held the faint, but still distinctive, note of sex on the still air.
Drawing the blanket down her body, Mr. Chase stroked her hip, his voice a whisper. “Turn over, bad girl. Gonna have a look at you.”
Apparently she was a light sleeper, for she obeyed the quiet command with nothing but a faint whimper.
Be cool, Eldon.
The man traced a finger along the tracery of livid marks laddering her pale buttocks, several of the lashings a striking purplish hue.
“She had a little problem submitting to the cups yesterday, so she had to receive a reminder to obey her handlers.”
Mr. Chase touched one of the marks rather… proprietorially. “Wrapped a couple here. Oozed a few spots of blood but nothing else. Want to make sure she’s none the worse for wear.”
Eldon wanted to clock the asshole in the mouth, but he knew the force of his sudden emotion was a cover for something else.
Namely, the stirring of his cock at the sight of the girl’s shapely ass decorated with vivid mementos of an appointment with the whip.
Crouching down next to her, Eldon examined the marks, not missing the way the girl canted her hips up at a subtle sound from Mr. Chase. The change in her position revealed a gleam of moisture between her upper thighs, the smell of semen now unmistakable.
“Should clear up… fine.” He looked up at Heller. “I don’t have witch hazel in my pack, but that’s probably best for the marks themselves. I—”
“Right here.” The director plucked a round, white plastic container from the shelf. “These are in wipe form.”
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