by S. E. Rose
“It’s so nice to see you!” she says, pulling back from my embrace.
“I missed you, Izzy Wizzy,” I say and we burst into giggles again. To the outsider, I’m sure this looks ridiculous as we are two grown women acting like small children. Sean used to find this extremely entertaining. And that fleeting thought only makes me pull her back to me and hug her tighter.
“Hey there, you OK?” she whispers in my ear before pulling back.
“Never better,” I say, trying to compose myself and not let any tears fall. I pull myself together and then introduce her to Jack.
“Well, well,” she says with a laugh. “We have done well for ourselves. I can see that.” And she looks up and down at him as though analyzing a piece of artwork.
“Seriously, Iz, save the embarrassing cousin bit for another time.” I roll my eyes at her and link my arm through Jack’s.
“OK, so we have a few hours to eat and play, do we?” she asks as she claps her hands together. “I mean, ugh.” She bends over holding her stomach. “I feel terrible and I am at home resting.” She pauses and then with a bow continues. “No worries, I’m available for encores all day, until half past one, when I have something in my diary which I absolutely cannot cancel.”
Jack raises an eyebrow with curiosity.
“Manicure,” she says with a laugh and flaunts her perfect nails at him.
I roll my eyes again and we begin to stroll. We decide to be “cheeky” as she puts it and we drag him to the “original” Hard Rock for an early lunch and then we spend some time at the Portrait Gallery. The afternoon speeds by and I don’t even notice until I hear a buzz from Izzy’s phone.
“Well, bollocks,” she sighs. “My weekly beautification awaits.” She gives me a hug and does the European kiss-hug thing with Jack and then hails a cab and she is off just like that.
“Well,” Jack says. “She’s a character.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” I say, laughing and meaning every word of it.
“Does everyone in your family have that much personality?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say emphatically. “And now you understand.”
He shrugs. “I prefer you.” And then he pulls me into an unbashful hug and kiss in the middle of Trafalgar Square where we just happen to be walking at the moment.
“Jack!” I laugh and squirm a bit with the discomfort of PDA.
“Sorry, can’t help it,” he murmurs, pulling me back to my feet.
“I need to get back for my meeting,” I say, glancing at the time. He hails us a cab and we are dropped off at the hotel at 1:45 p.m. I use the quiet time in the cab to determine what I’m going to say about my departure without him.
As we get out of the cab, he turns to me. “I can walk you to your appointment and then I’ll wait for you.”
“Jack, really, that’s not necessary. Why don’t you go relax for a bit and I’ll be back shortly?” I look at him trying to remain calm.
“At least let me walk you to the building,” he says. I sigh and nod.
I’ve already picked a fake building near Speaker’s Corner. Once at the entrance I turn and give him a hug and kiss. “See you soon.”
“OK, call me when you finish. I can walk back to meet you,” he says.
“OK.”
And then he’s off, back toward the hotel and I pretend to go inside. I wait inside the entrance for a moment or two until I can see him no more and I pop back out and make it over to Speaker’s Corner with two minutes to spare.
There’s one guy ranting while standing on a box and another one nearby also ranting. Both have small crowds around them. I don’t even know what I’m looking for and I begin to get nervous, very nervous until I spot a man leaning against a streetlight. He looks harmless enough, a suit and tie. He’s wearing sunglasses but brings them up to rest on his head when I look at him. In about half a dozen strides, he walks over to me and gazes down.
“Ms. Stevenson,” he states rather than asks. How the hell does he know that I am me?
“Y…yes,” I manage to stammer before looking back up at him.
“Follow me,” he says and he escorts me to the road where a giant, tinted-window SUV pulls up and I am whisked inside before I know what’s happening.
Chapter 23
Laura’s Playlist: “Bleeding Out” by Imagine Dragons
The SUV pulls up to a nondescript building only a few blocks away and the man I presume to be Agent Banks opens the car door and leads me inside. We take an elevator to the tenth floor and pass through a maze of hallways with blinking fluorescent lights and eventually come to a door with the number 1054 over it. Agent Banks opens the door and I am led into an office. The office is nicely decorated. The floors are dark wood with a beautiful Oriental rug laid out under a mammoth mahogany desk. There are dark leather chairs in front of the desk and a matching sofa to the left and some kind of matching sideboard to the right. Beyond the desk are very tall windows that look out over the city. The view is beautiful and for a moment I am distracted by it. It’s not until I hear a clicking noise that I look down toward the rather large leather chair behind the desk and find a woman not much older than I am staring at me while tapping a hand on her desk.
“Ms. Stevenson, I presume?” she asks and waves a hand at one of the leather chairs opposite her. I walk in and sit down. I don’t even know what to say. Before I can say anything, she looks past me. “Agent Banks, you are dismissed. Debrief in the dungeon and I shall catch up with you later.” He nods.
“The dungeon?” I ask, realizing I’ve said the words out loud before I can stop myself.
She looks at me. “Yes, but not the castle type, more of a room name. Water, coffee, tea?”
“Uhhh…n…no thank you,” I stutter.
“Very well, let’s get started then, shall we?” She says this as it is a normal mundane task on which we shall embark. Perhaps I’ll be opening mail or filing documents in a drawer.
“I don’t understand. Start what? Where exactly am I?” I blurt out realizing that I’m being quite forward.
“You were debriefed, no?” she asks.
“No,” I answer.
She raises an eyebrow. “Curious, very curious indeed. Well, then I suppose I should fill you in on some details. You are at the National Crime Agency’s special unit on human trafficking. Our unit heads up UK coordination on undercover operations relating to international human trafficking.” She rises from her desk and walks to the side table pouring herself a coffee from a very expensive-looking coffee maker that probably is more reliable than any assistant who could make said coffee. Then she proceeds to take the seat next to me. I take a better look at her as she sits down. She’s slightly taller than me with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. She has pale skin, even more pale than mine, which is saying something. She’s not drop-dead gorgeous, but she’s also not plain. There’s something slightly exotic about her features as though perhaps somewhere in her family someone was from Asia. Her eyes are wide and almond-shaped, her nose thin and tapered. Her presence though is what screams out at those around her. She has confidence like I have never seen and she commands one’s attention. She looks at me as she sits and purses her lips. She sets her coffee neatly on the cup holder on the small table between us and then crosses one leg gently over the other. She brings her hands together in her lap as she gazes at me.
“Well, we were contacted by Jack’s brother, Oliver, a few days ago. Jack had assisted us in a matter a number of years back, but his position was somewhat compromised or at least we had thought so at the time. He wanted out, so we released him from his services. However, it appears he has been in contact with the target or someone working directly for the target.” She stops as a puzzled look crosses her face. “Do you know any of this?”
“Not really. I mean a little, but no. I don’t know anything except that Jack is in trouble because some drug dealers he used to work with want him running drugs up north and he is refusing them.�
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She nods. “Well, we do have a lot to debrief you on then.”
She clicks a button on her watch and a screen rises out of her desk. She clicks it again and the shades start to go down a bit. She clicks it a third time and the screen turns on. She clicks it yet again and a photo appears. By now, I have no doubt that my mouth will need to be picked up off the floor with a shovel. Where the hell am I at? MI6 or something? Is James Bond going to come in here at any moment? Will I be driving a James Bond-style car? My mind is all over the place. And I can feel my acid reflux jump into overdrive.
I swallow as she starts back up. “This is Alexei Sokolov. He runs a major international crime organization. They dabble in all sorts of wonderful things: sex slaves, child soldiers, selling weapons to terrorists, pirating fishing vessels, brothels, and drugs, of course, amongst other things. Leo Turner works for him here in England. He’s sort of a VP of sales, shall we say. And Simon Cartwright is Leo’s head of the drug division. Although Simon also tends to dabble in the brothel end and from time to time Leo has had him help with the sex slave deals, but mostly he sticks with the drugs. Now back when Jack was involved, it was a much smaller operation, mostly drugs and some brothels. But Alexei made quite a lot of money and expanded his assets. Leo, in turn, hired on more folks and so did Simon. They have a guy up north now called Benjamin Denton. He and Simon have been trying to get Jack back into the business. They need a local they can trust and Simon trusts Jack. Leo was skeptical of this we believe, but he’s on board now. Jack, however, has not agreed to help as far as we were aware, but now that you’ve had Oliver contact us, we are fairly certain he does want to be involved.”
“He doesn’t,” I say resolutely.
Ignoring me, she continues. “In any case, Alexei has been somewhat difficult to track down. He always seems to slip through our fingers, shall we say. We could have easily taken down Leo and Simon and Benjamin for that matter, as they are low-hanging fruit, but we really want Alexei.” She stops and eyes me as she scans through more photos. I now see a photo of two men talking.
“Alexei is the one on the right and Leo on the left.” She flips to another photo and another. “Simon and Benjamin.”
“So, how can I help?” I ask.
She looks at me and motions for me to stand. Confused, I do, but as I do she motions for me to turn around. Then she sighs. “I suppose you will do. Do you know how to fire a gun?”
“Yes.”
I can make out the smallest quiver in her eyebrow, but she doesn’t arch it. “Do you know how to use any other weapons?”
“No.”
“Laura, you have to understand. It is quite unorthodox in law enforcement to put a completely untrained civilian in harm’s way. You possess neither information that would make you an informant nor do you possess the skills we would require to recruit you as an agent. I’m inclined to deny Agent Banks’s request to have you involved in this case, however, because of your ‘unique’ relationship with Jack Ross, I believe you may be of use to our case. Not to mention, your mere proximity to Mr. Ross will make you a target. Fortunately, our unit is also a bit unorthodox in both its legal abilities and its required procedures. I’m allowing my staff to give you the briefest of tutorials this weekend. I can get an agent to meet with you starting tonight. Unfortunately, we have only days and normally we take weeks to train someone.” She stares at me for a moment. “Like I said, this is extremely unorthodox.”
I pull up my pant leg and point to my ankle. “I was recently injured. I have a concussion and a sprained ankle. I hardly think I can take down any hardened criminals in my best shape let alone with injured body parts.”
“I see,” she says, her eyes widening just slightly. “And Jack, is he willing to come back in, do you think?”
I shrug, trying to be honest. “I don’t really know. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Really?” she says and I sense the smallest smirk on her face as she gestures for me to go to the window. I look out and then down and see Jack leaning against one of those old red mailboxes and I almost pass out from shock.
“But…I…I don’t understand,” I stutter yet again.
“Jack was trained by us. He was one of my best.” She eyes me as I walk back over. “He followed you.”
I turn to her trying to understand, but I can’t. She walks over to the window and looks down at him and nods. He walks across the street and enters the building. She motions for me to sit back down, and out of pure shock, I do. About a minute later, Jack stands at the door. She motions for him to take the seat next to me and she sits back down at her desk.
“Jack.” She nods at him.
“Megan,” he says back at her. Oh yeah, she never introduced herself, I think to myself as I roll her name around in my head.
He turns to me. “How did this happen?” he asks, waving his hand around the room. I can’t get a read on his facial expression, but I know he’s not jumping for joy.
“Oliver,” I whisper.
“I see,” he responds dryly. “Megan, I think we are done here.” And he rises.
“Sit down, Jack,” she commands in a cold voice. And he hesitates, but then sits. “There are things you need to know before you make a decision.”
“Such as.” He glares at her.
“Such as, they know about her.” She points to me. “And Alexei is coming here.”
I look to Jack and watch as the color leaves his face.
“When?” he asks.
“Our intel says next week, maybe Monday,” she says as though they are discussing the weather or the sports scores from last night. “We think Leo has called him in to deal with a situation here in London and perhaps to come see you.”
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “What do you have on him? Can you just take him down on his arrival?”
“No,” she answers, this time looking more serious. “We have some, how can I put this, legal issues with how we got information on a particular case. So now we are back at square one. We want to get him on as much as possible. We’ve been working through Interpol and Europol, but so far we don’t have any evidence that we can legally use beyond some trivial drug charges. We may have a lead on the sex slave trade, although it may not stand up in court. If we can have him on more significant drug charges also, then we have a start. I’m no longer holding out hope that we’ll get what we need on the terrorist activities, but we’ll see what happens.”
“And what do you need us to do?” he asks.
“Well, we need you to pretend to go along with it. And then get us what we need.”
“But Laura, she goes back to the States in a little over a month. She can’t be involved in this.”
“Not a problem, we can get her a resident visa. She can stay as long as she likes,” Megan says with a cold stare that I only assume means she is calling his bluff.
“NO!” he yells. “She is going home. She has kids and a life and I’m not doing this to her. Absolutely not! No fucking way!”
“Jack.” I put my hand on his. “I’m staying.” I speak the words, but I don’t realize what I’ve said until a moment later. I’m staying? I can’t stay. I have a book to finish and children to tend to…OK, well, I have children who sometimes still need me…once in a while. I shake off my thoughts and look at him resolutely. He turns to me.
“Laura, love, you don’t know what you’re saying. These men, they are dangerous, very dangerous. It could put you and your children in jeopardy.” He looks at me with pleading eyes as he runs his hands through his hair.
Megan doesn’t glance at Jack, but turns to me instead. “Well, that’s resolved,” she says. “Laura’s maiden name is Ryder. We switched her name around on her resident visa. We’ve gotten her new credit cards with it. She has all the documentation she needs. We will work our magic on her mobile and show her a few safety drills. The kids will be safe. Our U.S. counterparts are keeping them under watch.”
“Wait, wait a minute,”
I say as I hold my hand out to stop her. “You are watching my kids?”
“Yes,” she says. “We always keep an eye on our assets and their families. We don’t need them compromised.”
“Jack,” I say. “This is happening, clearly this has been happening. I’m staying.”
“Laura,” he pleads as he looks at me. His face shows that he is now beyond worried. “You can still get out. Please, leave and let me handle this. I will find you when it’s over.”
“Nope, not happening,” I say adamantly.
Megan pushes a piece of paper across the table at each of us. “Sign here.”
I sign without reading it and then slowly Jack takes the pen and signs as well.
“Very good,” she says and she picks up her phone and makes a call. “Come get them.
“Agent Banks is in charge of this operation. You’ll be reporting to him. He’ll debrief you and then you will head back to Stonehaven by zero eight hundred Sunday.”
The door opens and Agent Banks is standing there. He ushers us out and I turn as I leave, Megan is looking at me with a most curious expression.
The next thirty-six hours are a blur. Jack and I are debriefed, which does nothing to settle my nerves. There is no way I can “un-see” anything that he shows us. Agent Banks informs us about all kinds of details pertaining to Alexei. And the more he speaks, the more I become unsure that I should be involved in something like this.
Jack doesn’t say much that night. In fact, he’s barely said anything to me since we left Megan’s office. We lie in bed not touching each other, and I’m fairly certain neither of us sleep. We go to the firing range with Agent Banks in the morning. He’s pleasantly surprised by my skills and, clearly, Jack is up to snuff. He gives us some pointers on knife combat after that. He also helps me practice some self-defense moves. At some point, an American shows up, something to do with the FBI or ICE or one of those acronyms. She is quite vague about it. She says that she and Agent Banks work in an international group together and that because I was American her group is technically going to be working with me, but I’m reporting to Agent Banks for this project. Project? Really?? Regardless, I sign some more forms and then she leaves me with the capable Agent Banks to continue my “education.” This is not how I saw the world of espionage and law enforcement working, but then again, Megan just told me their unit was “unorthodox.”