“We were investigating the kidnapping of one of the old, Russian mafia families’ son. In doing so, we had to check out the family’s competition. Gavrill was from another Russian family, fairly new to the U.S. They are actually from Croatia, not ‘Mother Russia’, as he called it. They were described as newcomers, with no elder at the helm, that had muscled into the existing mafia family’s territory.”
Luke said, “Just think of the Godfather movies. Old family with the head ruling everything. But, as times changed, newer gangs came in and started edging out the established Sicilian mafias. Same thing with the Russians. A member of an old family wanted things to change so he joined forces with Gavrill. Fucked over his family in the process, at a time when they were moving into more legitimate businesses, so they fucked him right back.”
He shook his head, saying, “This sounds like some kind of movie script.”
Bart agreed, “It’s fucked up, all right. Some families were into extortion, money laundering, transporting guns and drugs. Sounds bad, but honestly, not all that crazy. But Gavrill? Man’s into everything, especially human trafficking, racketeering, drugs, guns, prostitution, just to name a few things. He operated out of a warehouse in Portsmouth.”
“And now?”
“All that was taking place about three to four years ago. Two years ago, when Bayley stumbled into the Gruzinsky family line, we discovered that Chessa, Agnes’ mom, is Gavrill’s cousin. She married Milos Gruzinsky and they had two sons, Grigory and Lazlo. They continued the family business of kidnapping women, using them as sex slaves in a hotel they had set up for prostitution, and human trafficking. It was suspected that they would send the women to Gavrill’s operation and he would transport them to other countries where they would continue sexual enslavement.”
“Agnes,” Luke interjected, “found out about her family’s business and decided to find a way to turn them into the FBI. Smart girl made it happen. Now, we’ve got Lazlo, Grigory, Milos, and Chessa Grunzinsky all in prison.”
“But they couldn’t catch Gavrill for it,” he confirmed what they had discussed earlier.
“That’s where it gets interesting,” Charlie said. “They wanted to try Gavrill on trafficking charges but there was no evidence that he had any of the women in his ships at the time. Looking for any way to get him behind bars, they did find evidence for tax evasion. A pittance of a sentence, but enough to make him even more angry about the situation. Now, with his brother here, he’s got plenty of help to take down the person who started the downfall of the family.”
Which meant going after Agnes. He felt rage building inside at the thought of her in danger. Tamping the emotion down, he vowed to do everything he could to keep Gavrill from finding her.
“I just figured I didn’t have no choice,” Tina said, slumping in her chair. “My mama turned tricks, but she only did it for the drugs. At least my pimp handled the money and gave me what I needed.” She shrugged, “It might not have been much, but it was more than my mama ever made.”
“That sounds like a hard life,” Agatha said, “but it also sounds like you’re a survivor.”
Snorting, “I don’t know about that. I kidded myself into thinking that I was independent, ‘cause I was making the decision to turn tricks. Somehow, my pimp always made it seem like it was my idea, but the reality is, I was letting myself be used. I just couldn’t figure out any other way to live. Then, I got beat up and he didn’t do nothing for me. I just got tired.” Her shoulders drooped as she hung her head. “So sick and tired of being nothing but a body.”
“You deserve more, you know. You deserve to be whatever you want to be,” she said, hoping she was getting through.
Nodding, Tina agreed, “I know. It won’t be easy, ‘cause I never finished high school, but I don’t want to be like my mama. I want to be more.”
The other women in the shelter were asleep, but she had found Tina in the kitchen, sitting alone at the table. Sitting down with her, she did not pry, but let the young woman unburden herself as she needed.
“That’s what this place is for,” she assured her. “You can find what you need to change your life.”
“You sound like someone who knows what they’re talking about,” Tina observed, her eyes on her.
Nodding, she said, “I was in my own version of hell. But, I found that I had the courage to make a change. Now I try to help others make changes as well.”
Tina’s lips curved slightly. “Courage. I never thought of it as courage, but that’s what this feels like.”
“A famous Greek named Thucydides once said, ‘The secret to happiness is freedom... And the secret to freedom is courage.’ When I first read that, I was struck by how much it meant to me. I wasn’t free and now I am. I might not have as much, but I’m happier. And, to become free took a lot of courage.”
Tina’s slight smile widened. “You’re awful smart, Miss Agatha.”
Chuckling, she shook her head. “Not really. But, I’m learning. Every day, I’m learning.”
As Tina headed upstairs to bed, she followed, climbing the stairs to her attic room. Once in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and spit out the toothpaste. Wiping her mouth with the hand towel, she stared into her reflection. It was a simple action, one most people did multiple times a day. But, she only allowed herself to stare into the mirror occasionally.
Her face was different…not much, but enough to keep someone from immediately recognizing her. Her nose, which had had a little bump she thought gave her face character, was now slender and smooth. Her teeth, which had been straightened with braces when she was a pre-teen, now had a slightly crooked incisor.
She wondered about the dentist who had given her a crooked tooth, but never asked questions. She assumed he was used to cosmetic changes…no matter what the reason. Her eyes, once a dark, chocolate brown, were now amber with contacts she wore at all times—even to bed. Her ears, which had barely stuck out at the top, now lay close to her head. Her hair, no longer dark, was sandy-blonde with a few auburn streaks. Her fingers reached up to slide through the strands, still feeling as though she wore a wig.
Her eyes continued to rove over her face, seeing her features in parts before stepping back and viewing herself as a whole. The same…and different. And necessary.
Flipping off the light, she crawled into bed, rolling over so that she could peer out at the stars dotting the sky. Star light…star bright…If I could have a wish, what would it be? She knew the answer to that question, but to speak it aloud would waste a wish. I might see the man with the beautiful dog again, but he would not know me. And if he did, he would not want to know me.
The week passed quickly and Nathan had to admit he was glad for the weekend. He had not worked full time, outside his business, since the military, but assimilating into the Saints had been easy. It was not a nine to five job, therefore it allowed him the luxury of being able to continue with his dog training when not working with Cam installing security systems.
Now, Sunday morning had him preparing for tracking practice with the dogs when he heard a vehicle coming down the gravel drive. Walking out onto his front porch, he spied an SUV coming to a stop just in front. He could see Blaise and Bart in the front seat, but it was not until the doors opened that he also observed Cam and Patrick as well.
Chuckling, he said, “Did I forget a meeting this morning…at my house?”
Scarlett immediately trotted to the guests, rolling over on her back to accept tummy rubs as the men fawned over her. The baying from the kennel could be heard as he walked down the steps.
Bart explained, “Blaise said you work your dogs on the weekends and we wanted to run with you. Figured the trails around here would be good experience and thought we’d help.”
“One of you want to be the fugitive?” he asked.
“Not me,” Cam joked. “That’d remind me of being chased by the police when I was young.” The others laughed and Cam added, “Or, going through the fuckin’ Mexican jungl
e when I rescued Miriam.”
He had heard the story of how Cam had been sent to Mexico to rescue a nurse from a drug cartel. Being Hispanic, he was the perfect Saint for the job, being able to integrate into the environment easily. They had to spend days in the wild, trekking across the terrain to get to where Marc, the only Saint who was a pilot, could pick them up. It was hard to imagine Cam joking about the ordeal, but since he was now married to Miriam and they had children, he guessed Cam considered himself lucky.
“I’ll do it,” Patrick volunteered, grinning eagerly. “What do I need to do?”
“Rub your hands on this towel, so I’ll have your scent. Got lots of trails around. Head anywhere you want to go and I’ll give you about a ten-minute head start. Get somewhere and you can sit down, climb a tree…whatever. I’ll get the other dogs and then I’ll let them track you. I’ll hold Scarlett back to give the others a chance.”
Patrick nodded and, with a wave, started jogging toward the woods at the back of the house.
“Can we come too?” Cam asked.
“Of course. Let me get the dogs.” He walked to the kennel and let the other dogs out, laughing as they bounded over to the visitors. “This here’s Red. This is Beau and this beauty is Persi.”
“Persi?” Bart asked.
“Short for Persephone,” he replied. “It’s Greek for lovely.”
The dogs bounded around, loving the attention, as the men rubbed them. Blaise ran his expert hands over the pregnant hound, offering a comforting nod to Nathan.
“She’s in good shape. Everything feels right.”
Ten minutes later, he bent to the dogs with the towel and they quickly sniffed, pushing each other to the side as their tails wagged with excitement.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, and they immediately started trotting toward the woods behind the house. The guys jogged behind him, watching as he kept Scarlett by his side and let Red and Beau take the lead, with Persi right behind them. Noses to the ground, they deviated occasionally and he laughed again. “Looks like Patrick decided to run in some circles to try to throw them.”
When he had bought the property, he loved its thick woods and spent a year carving out trails through the forest, leaving plenty of places for the dogs and a trainer to run.
After a short while, the hounds halted at the bottom of a tall pine tree, standing up on the trunk, baying. Walking to the tree he looked up, seeing Patrick perched on one of the lower branches.
With a jump, Patrick landed deftly on the ground, rubbing the dogs and congratulating them. Nathan pulled treats out of his pocket, giving them to all the dogs.
“You runnin’ in circles or you Army types can’t figure out which direction to go?” Bart asked, laughing.
“Hell, you’re so big, I would’ve figured you would have sunk like a stone when you were a SEAL,” Patrick joked in return.
The group made their way back through the woods, complimenting Nathan on his property as well as his dogs. Once back at the cabin, he invited them in for coffee. As the group settled in his living room, easy conversation ensuing, he realized it was the first time he had a group of friends gathered together in a long time. He wondered if it was worth it…Letting go of the fear? Looking over, he caught Blaise’s smile and just nodded in return, knowing the answer was abso-fucking-lutely it was worth it.
“You’ve been a Saint for a week,” Cam said. “Got any regrets so far?”
“Nope, not any,” he replied honestly. “I guess I’ll feel a little out of my element for a while until I get the hang of the security.”
“Once you get the PI course under your belt, that’ll help too,” Patrick said. “We all had to learn the different tasks to perform.”
As they got ready to leave, Cam turned and said, “Don’t forget to meet us tomorrow at the address I gave you yesterday. It’s a new women’s safe house and they want security in place before they move in.”
“No problem,” he called out, waving as they piled back into the SUV and Blaise turned to head out of the driveway.
He rubbed Scarlett’s ears, feeling lighter than he had in years, and said, “Come on, girl. Let’s get the others in for a while.” He, along with his hound trotting at his side, walked to the kennel.
6
The two men met, shook hands, and sat down at the table. In a different time, a different place, they would both be well-dressed and meeting in an upscale restaurant or exclusive club. But now, while one of them wore a suit, the other was dressed in a plain prison uniform of khaki shirt and khaki pants. Even with their vastly different outerwear, it was not hard to see they had a familial resemblance. The brothers had square jaws, barrel chests, and dark eyes that did not seem to miss much.
“You are well, Yurgi?”
“I am well, brother.”
Nodding, Gavrill said, “Thank you for not patronizing me by asking how I am. But let’s get down to business.”
“I’ve been in your office, and your lieutenants…assistants, are helping me. Contracts are being fulfilled, shipments are going out.” Yurgi’s eyes darted to the guards that were standing near the doors.
“Don’t worry about them,” Gavrill said. “At least the minimum security allows me a chance to have visitors, and not be as scrutinized. Plus,” he added, his lips curling, “in here, like everywhere, money talks.”
Yurgi returned the smile, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Is there anything special I need to be working on?” he asked, his voice low.
“I have a concern for my cousin’s daughter,” Gavrill said. “She has not been heard from in a long time, and I fear for her.”
“Would you like me to see if I can assist?”
“Absolutely. I need you to do everything you can to find her, assist her, and make sure she knows that we are here. I would not want her to think that she is alone in this life.”
Nodding was the only response Yurgi gave. It was the only response needed. The two men continued to talk over the Volkov business for several more minutes before they stood. Gavrill watched as his half-brother walked out of the room, inwardly seething as he counted down the days until he would be able to do the same.
Agatha sat in her old car in the parking lot of the new facility, her gaze scanning the area. It was non-descript, which was perfect. A small church was down the street. An older neighborhood was behind the building. A discount grocery store was just a block away. She remembered that Ann had already talked to the owner and it appeared he had trouble keeping cashiers, so he would be glad to train any of the women that wanted to work there.
Stepping from her car, she walked to the front, smiling at the curb appeal. The windows had been covered with blinds for now, but she knew Ann’s plan was to also hang curtains on the inside.
The front door was still the full glass, original door from when the building was a store. Ann informed her that it would be replaced with a solid, security door by the men who were coming today. Looking at the time on her phone, they were not scheduled to arrive for another fifteen minutes.
Pulling out the key, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping into a welcoming, carpeted lobby. A desk sat in the corner and several chairs were against the wall. In the corner opposite the desk were three small chairs and a toy chest for when women with children came in to talk about the services.
For protection, Ann had another door leading to the rest of the facility put in place. As she walked through it, she was taken aback by the finished project. All it needed was the furniture to be brought from their house.
Moving to the left, she walked down the hall, seeing a few offices, a conference room, and two large rooms that would hold classes. She rested her hand on the wall of one of the offices. The walls had been primed, but the women would paint them once they were moved in. It was a cost-cutting idea for one thing, but Ann was also a big believer that people became more invested if they had a hand in the creation.
Turning, she continued back down the hall, past the rece
ption and into the dorm area. The rooms would hold twin beds, several to a room, including a few that would also contain cribs if necessary. Her imagination ran wild with ideas for decorating. Pictures on the walls. Rugs on the floors. Music piped in through a sound system.
“Ma’am?”
Lost in thought, she had not heard anyone approach until a male voice sounded directly behind her. Yelping, she jumped, turning with her hand clutching her throat. Filling the hall were three large men. “Oh! I didn’t hear you,” she gushed, stepping backward, certain her face was flaming.
The dark-haired man, said, “We’re from Saints Protection and Investigations and will be working on your security today. I’m Cam. This is Jude, and Patrick. We have another person, Nathan, who’s unloading some equipment.”
Willing her heartbeat to slow, maintaining her distance, she said, “I’m Agatha.” She fiddled with her purse strap, glancing between them.
“Ma’am,” the tall, curly-haired blond, identified as Jude, spoke, “your front door was unlocked.”
Nodding rapidly, she said, “Yes. I unlocked it.”
“Why?”
“Uh…,” she said, noting their unsmiling faces, “because…uh…you were coming?”
She realized it was more of a question than a statement, but was uncertain what to say. Their other man walked from the front and stood partially behind Cam. Before she had a chance to look at him, the other blond, Patrick, spoke.
“Ma’am, you’re a woman alone, in a building with no security, and you left your front door unlocked.”
Her gaze shot between them and where the lobby door was, realizing she was cut off from escape. If she needed to run, her only option would be the out the back door.
Pulling out identification, Cam held it out to her, his tone soft. “We are from the Saints, and aren’t trying to be jerks, but in our business, we’re always looking out for someone’s safety. And, this morning, you put yourself in danger.”
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