Choosers of the Slain pos-3

by John Ringo

  “I have never heard of this house,” the Albanian said, frowning.

  “See? Now go get your clothes, honey,” Mike said, looking at Nikki. “You’re mine, now.”

  * * *

  Once they were out on the street, with Mike and Russell flanking the whore, Mike leaned over to her ear.

  “Nikki, you really don’t want to run,” he whispered. “Not just because of the bad things that Nicu will end up doing to you if you do. Just go along with us and you won’t be sorry.”

  “So I can be raped in a dungeon by rich old men?” Nikki asked, breathing hard and fast as they approached the car. All she had was a tube dress and a small bag that couldn’t hold much more than cosmetics. He had to wonder where the clothes she’d “bought” had gone.

  “Well, it’s that or the Albanians, honey,” Mike said. “And just don’t ask stupid questions until we can get someplace to talk, okay?”

  “What are you?” the whore asked.

  “Like I said,” Mike repeated. “Shut up. Russell, sit in back with her.”

  “Miss,” Russell said as he opened the door for her. “Please don’t try to run. If you did I’d have to restrain you. I’d try not to hurt you, but you’re a lot smaller than me and you’d probably get hurt anyway.”

  “Where would I run to?” she asked bitterly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was a silent twenty-minute ride to the hotel and then another silent three minutes to the set of rooms Mike had found.

  “Russell, go debrief with Vanner,” Mike said as he knocked on the command room door. He knew there’d be at least some Keldara women there. “He’ll need your input on the club layout.”

  “Oh, Kildar,” Anisa said, blushing. She was wearing the tube dress and high heels, very much the same uniform as Nikki, if in different colors.

  “You really are a whoremaster,” Nikki said bitterly.

  “Not quite,” Mike said, trying not to smile at Anisa’s discomfiture. “Doing some training, Anisa?”

  “Uhmmm, yes, Kildar,” the girl said, still furiously blushing and pulling her dress down. The maneuver just about got Mike a view of nipple, which caused her to blush and back up so fast she nearly went ass over teakettle.

  Katya was in the room, dressed in jeans, and for the first time Mike saw what looked like a real, honest, smile on her face. In fact, all of the Keldara girls were in the room along with Oksana and there were three more dressed in tube dresses and trying to stand on high heels.

  “Been doing a lot of training, Cottontail?” Mike asked, breaking into a grin. “I gotta say, if I really was selling hookers, I’d make a mint off of you girls.”

  “Don’t even joke about it, Kildar,” Greznya said, gasping. “We’ve been listening to far too much of what happens to them.”

  “Sorry,” Mike said, contritely. “Speaking of which, various gals, this is Nikki from Belarus who up until recently was a whore in Nicu’s club. I want you to suck her brains dry. Do we have maps, yet?”

  “Blueprints of the club as well as his apartment building,” Greznya said, getting up and going over to a table to flip through some sheets. “We’re not sure where he breaks the girls in, or where he keeps his records.”

  “You’re not a whoremaster,” Nikki said, looking around at the girls. The Keldara girls were all fiddling with their dresses, nervously. She clearly wasn’t sure what to think. They were dressed as whores and as nervous as new ones but they certainly didn’t look as if they were in fear of him.

  “I am not a whoremaster,” Mike said. “I know you have a tendency to chatter, Nikki. Even if you get a chance, do not chatter about what is happening here. Lives depend upon it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, puzzled.

  “Ladies,” Mike said, looking around and trying not to grin again. “I leave it to you. And… this looks like good training!”

  “As in unpleasant and uncomfortable?” one of the girls trying to balance on stilettos asked. “These shoes hurt.”

  “Exactly,” Mike said, walking to the door. “Good Training!”

  * * *

  “You worked in Nicu’s club?” Greznya asked, settling Nikki on the edge of the bed with a Coke.

  “Yes,” Nikki said, looking around. “What is this?” she asked, staring at Katya and Oksana. There was something different about them, she could tell.

  “We were hired to find a girl who is in the sex-slavery industry,” Greznya said. “Sometimes we have to pose as hookers, which is why the girls are practicing. It was sort of a joke; only Anisa has had to do it.”

  “And me,” Katya said, sipping at her drink which was clearly alcoholic. “But I’m a real whore, just like you.”

  “And what about you?” Nikki asked, looking at Oksana.

  “She was going to be made into one,” Greznya answered. “The Kildar bought her, instead.”

  “He was a little late for me,” Nikki said bitterly.

  “He will be late for almost all the women around here,” Katya said with a slight slur in her voice. “He was late for me. Hell, he used me as one. Still might. And worse. I’m a whore, why not? Once a whore, always a whore.”

  “You are more than that,” Anisa said sharply. “Much more.”

  “Whatever,” Katya replied.

  “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here,” Vanner said, walking through the adjoining door.

  “Nikki,” Russell said, nodding at her.

  “Hi,” Nikki said, smiling to see a familiar face, even if it was Russell’s.

  “We need to look at the blueprints,” Vanner said, walking over to the table. “What Russell is sketching out doesn’t sound like the design on the paper.”

  “It’s not,” Russell said, glancing at the blueprints. “The sex booths are through here, which shows a solid wall. It looks as if they knocked a door into this section, here,” he added, pointing. “This place used to be a couple of warehouses; they’ve redesigned it.”

  “Nikki, right?” Vanner said, gesturing at the girl. “Have you been in much of the club?”

  “Some,” Nikki said, walking over and looking at the schematic in incomprehension. “What is this?”

  “It’s like a map of the building the club is in,” Vanner replied. “I know it’s confusing, but don’t worry. We’ll walk you through it…”

  * * *

  “I hope you have something for me, Vanner,” Mike said the next morning when he strode into intel. “I had a crappy night’s sleep and the smoke from that damned club is killing my lungs.”

  “Well, at least some of us got some sleep,” Vanner replied. “No rest for the staff pukes, huh? Yeah, we got some stuff but it’s basically crap.”

  “Go,” Mike said, flopping into an armchair.

  “Okay,” Vanner said, flipping up the blueprints for the club on an easel. They’d been heavily marked over and some of the areas were either entirely unmarked or marked with dotted lines making approximations. “First part of the crap.”

  “I can see,” Mike said. “They’ve really worked that building over. And I don’t see where they’ve got the guys watching the security cameras.”

  “We’ve positively established it as being right here,” Vanner said, waving his hand over one quarter of the more-or-less-square building that wasn’t mapped. There were some doors around it, but nothing inside the box.

  “That’s bad,” Mike said.

  “It gets worse,” Vanner said. “There are cameras on all entrances. Nikki has seen the security in full rig and they’re heavy. Up to RPG.”

  “How very good,” Mike said dryly.

  “They stay in the club, in a barracks,” Vanner said, glancing at his notes. “But it’s in the security area. The girls don’t go in there to service them. Nicu moves in a three vehicle convoy. Leaves late, comes back late, around noon. Sometimes goes out of town.”

  “Shopping,” Mike said.

  “Shopping,” Vanner confirmed. “His convoy uses multiple routes. The only confluence is
his apartment and the club. Sometimes he takes girls, especially new ones, to the apartment. Apartment has security all over it, too.”

  “All over?” Mike asked.

  “All over the ground floors,” Vanner said. “We’ve got cameras on the club and the apartment.”

  “Does he keep records of the girls?” Mike asked.

  “Presumably,” Vanner said. “Or someone does. But that would be in the offices.” He pointed to a spot on the blueprint near the back of the main club area. “To get to the offices you have a couple of choices. Go through the club, go through the girls’ dormitory, which has very tight security, or go through the security area itself.”

  “No,” Mike said. “You’re thinking two dimensionally.”

  “The roof?” Vanner asked incredulously.

  “It’s worth looking at,” Mike said. “Brainstorming. Okay, convoy, multiple routes. Lots of bystanders around in the club and heavy security. Lots of security on the apartment. Records in a practical vault. Nikki tell you about the Albanian?”

  “The guy who actually sold her?” Vanner asked. “Brami Dejti. Former officer in the NLA. Got made fighting the Serbs, worked his way into fundraising by sex, slavery and drugs. Arrested for war crimes, rape and murder of females, mostly, associated with the NLA, never prosecuted. He got released by the Belgian contingent of KFOR and nobody ever brought it up again. Arrested in Greece for pimping, released. Arrested in Belgium for suspicion of transportation of women for immoral purposes and kidnapping. The two witnesses, the whores, disappeared. Case dropped. That guy?”

  “Where’d you get it?” Mike asked, nodding.

  “I pulled up a list of known players and ran the mug shots past Nikki,” Vanner said. “For damned near two hours. After that it was easy. Interpol has a rap sheet the length of Albania on the guy. Somehow he always slips out of the net.”

  “Interpol is the epitome of European policing,” Mike said. “All the information in the world and no real success at stopping crime. We need to work on him. Maybe more than Nicu.”

  “He left last night in a convoy of three Mercedes that from the looks of them were armored,” Vanner replied. “We might be able to get something more tomorrow night. If he shows.”

  “We need them both,” Mike said. “Together. And we need their records.”

  “That means taking down the whole club, Kildar,” Vanner said, frowning. “You’re not talking about that, are you?”

  “I dunno,” Mike said. “I’m going to think on it. Find me a way in that doesn’t require shooting. Anything. Find it. If we can get somebody inside, we’re going places. Short of that, I’m out of ideas. We’ll have a meeting this afternoon to toss ideas around. You, me, Adams, Sawn, Russell, Nikki and a couple of the Keldara women.”

  “Will do,” Vanner said, sighing.

  * * *

  Mike looked around the room and then at the unhelpful blueprint on the easel.

  “Nobody?” he asked. “I mean, I knew I was stumped, but you’re all smart people. Somebody’s got to have an idea!”

  “Well, I’m stumped too,” Adams admitted. “But I know the way I think. If you can’t get in easy, get more firepower.”

  “I’m not calling in the families to deal with one damned link in the chain,” Mike said.

  “Well, I’m just not the Mission Impossible type,” Adams replied. “Vanner?”

  “I could try to remote access their computers,” the former Marine said, musingly. “I’ve got the systems to do that. The walls on the warehouse are old Russian concrete. It’s pretty lousy stuff; it falls apart pretty quick normally. But the problem with it is it’s ferroconcrete. Instead of using rebar, it’s laced through with wire mesh. That acts as a Faraday cage; no signals get out. I’m pretty sure there’s hardly any cell phone connection in there. I know I haven’t picked up cell calls from Nicu or Bramji.”

  “What about the roof?” Greznya asked. “The walls stop signals, but does the roof?”

  “Checked,” Vanner sighed. “It’s metal. Stops ’em dead.”

  “I am still not so sure about reading this map of the building,” Nikki said diffidently. “But there is something on it I don’t understand.” She got up and walked over to the blueprint, tracing a section. “What is this?”

  “The warehouse had in-ground drains,” Vanner said. “It’s the sewage connection for them. I looked at that; it’s marked as being only three inches wide. Really fucking thin for the purpose, but I suppose that’s Soviet architecture all over.”

  “It looks larger,” Nikki said. “This is the marker?” she added, pointing to a number.

  “Yeah,” Vanner said, curiously. “Why?”

  “This is in decimeters,” Nikki pointed out. “Three decimeters. That is about this big,” she pointed out, holding her hands apart.

  “Damn,” Vanner said, standing up and walking over to the map.

  “Fifteen inches,” Adams said. “Still very damned small. I wouldn’t want to try to get shooters in there.”

  “No,” Mike said softly. “But you can get someone or even something up it.”

  “It runs under the club,” Vanner said, tracing the line. “And under the offices and through the girls’ rooms into security. The entrance is over on that side. There are drains marked.”

  Mike walked over for a closer look and shook his head.

  “There wasn’t a drain opening there,” Mike pointed out. “Nikki, this is between the bar and stage two. There’s not an opening there, is there?”

  “No,” the girl said definitely.

  “They’ll have laid the floor in over them,” Vanner said positively. “Nicu wasn’t the first owner of the club and from the looks of the paperwork the previous owners were forced to sell. He might not even know about it. And one of the drains is right under the offices.”

  “What can we do with that?” Mike asked.

  “Let me do some shopping,” Vanner said distantly. “At the very least I can get a recon probe up it. Maybe by the end of the day.”

  “Get some of the Keldara into the club,” Adams said. “Rotate them through, picking up intel. They’ll need to keep their mouths shut and their eyes open.”

  “Just the men or women as well?” Greznya asked. “The girls are trained for intel gathering. Not this type, but they understand the concept.”

  “There were plenty of customers going there just to dance,” Mike pointed out. “Send in a shooter and one of the intel girls as a pair. How many of the girls would be willing to do it?”

  “Most,” Greznya said, smiling. “Totter in on high heels, yes?”

  “They’ll need more practice,” Mike said, seriously. “They’ll need to be able to dance on them.”

  “I’ll get with Katya to show us,” Greznya said with a nod.

  “Okay, let’s break this up,” Mike said. “Vanner, go shopping. Take a couple of the Keldara shooters and a girl if she wants to go. They need to get used to city life.”

  “Will do,” Vanner said. He had pulled out a scratch pad and was writing on it.

  “Take Killjoy with you,” Adams added. “That way he can answer questions while you shop.”

  “Got it,” the Marine replied.

  “Greznya, talk to the girls,” Mike said.

  “I will, Kildar,” the girl replied.

  “It’s not a plan, but it’s a start.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Patrick Vanner was running on too little sleep and he knew it. However, he’d found everything he needed shopping, and putting the pieces together had been relatively easy. Once he’d gotten the pieces and put together a plan, he’d turned it over to Greznya. The girls had gotten used to tinkering with electronics and the design changes were relatively simple. The device was mostly hollow, anyway, and had a built-in spot for a camera. All they’d needed to do was install the bits he’d picked up, a few black boxes he always kept around just in case, and do the systems integration. He’d gotten in a power nap.

  All
that being said, he knew that he’d come up with the idea while in a sleep-deprived haze. In other words, it might be genius and it might be utter stupidity. Since he wasn’t sure which, he’d carefully avoided discussing it with the Kildar or Adams and had sworn Killjoy to secrecy.

  Which was why the former Ranger was with him in the sewer tunnel.

  “I think you’re bent,” Killjoy said, lifting the device into the tunnel overhead.

  “It’s designed to avoid walls,” Vanner pointed out as he checked the take from the device. “All we have to do is put it in the tunnel and let it go. It’s perfect, really.”

  “It’s nuts,” Killjoy said. “Even if it works.”

  “If it’s stupid and it works it ain’t stupid,” Vanner replied.

  “Don’t go quoting Murphy’s Law of Combat to me,” Killjoy said. “Not while I’m doing this. It makes me wonder if the smell from the sewer is making me as bent as you are.”

  “Just turn on the motor,” Vanner said dazedly. “I’m getting a good feed from the camera and the intercept systems are nominal.”

  “Okay,” Killjoy said, flicking the switch on the base of the thing.

  “Right, here goes,” Vanner said, touching a control.

  There was a series of beepings that emitted from the tunnel.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t pull the sound box,” Killjoy said.

  “I’m pretty sure they won’t hear it,” Vanner said. “And, no, I forgot to tell the girls.”

  “Like they wouldn’t know about it?” the former Ranger asked.

  “Hey, they’re the Keldara,” Vanner said, shrugging. “It’s not like they go to a lot of movies. They’ve never even seen Star Wars!”

  He hit another button and there was another series of beeps.

  “You go, R2,” Killjoy said, chuckling.

  And the miniature R2D2 toy began making its way up the tunnel and into the darkness.