Forced Move (Michael Cailen Book 2)

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Forced Move (Michael Cailen Book 2) Page 12

by Mel LeBrun


  Michael moved as close to her as he could to try and console her. She leaned her head on his chest as she cried. Josh woke to her weeping with the same fear as Michael. Michael explained to him what happened. Josh slid over to her as well. Even though they couldn't do much, having them near helped her cope.

  THE VAN finally came to a stop. They heard the two front doors open and shut and then the back doors swung open. Their eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting in the back of the van, so they were momentarily blinded by the bright sunshine as the guards pulled them from the back. They only had a brief moment to absorb their surroundings before they were forced into a large stable. An enormous mansion sat elegantly in the middle of a large stretch of manicured land that continued up to the stable. On one side of the stable was a sizable vineyard, on the other was a large fenced area where horses peacefully grazed.

  Pierce, along with a few of his men, was waiting for them in the stable. The man Jessica had bit earlier carried her into the stable and threw her down onto the concrete floor. Michael reached his limit. He retaliated with a rage-fueled kick to the man's chest, cracking multiple ribs and knocking him down.

  Two guards quickly subdued Michael, beating him to the ground. Jessica screamed in vain for them to stop. Josh watched on helplessly, unable to do a thing.

  “Enough!” a loud booming voice yelled out from the other end of the stable. The tall man came into view as he stepped closer. His brown hair was slicked back in an attempt to mask the fact that it was thinning. He was dressed in a metallic gray suit with a white shirt, no tie, and dark gray leather dress shoes. “I want him alive for a little longer at least.”

  The guards ceased their attack and stepped away from Michael, who was now crumpled up on the floor, bloody and coughing. Jessica crawled over to him. The tall newcomer stopped next to Pierce, gazing with delight at his three captives. Josh couldn't shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him, though he was sure they had never met.

  The man looked at Josh, then Michael, who was trying to stand up. When his eyes fell on Jessica though, his whole countenance changed. Michael wasn't sure what to make of his expression which suddenly turned so serious.

  He was fixated on her as though there wasn't anyone else in the room. “Do you know who I am?” he asked.

  “Should I?” she responded, staring right back.

  He didn't answer. Another few seconds of strange silent staring continued until he broke his gaze and turned to Pierce. “Take the men to their room. Bring her to the house.” He left abruptly, leaving Pierce somewhat confused by the order.

  Michael watched Jessica while he was being dragged off by Pierce's men. She stared at the floor, not looking up at him until he was almost out of the room. She looked frightened and confused. He was pushed through a doorway, no longer able to see her.

  He and Josh were brought to an empty storage room in the cellar under the stable. They passed by racks of large oak barrels and other wine-making equipment.

  “That was weird,” Josh remarked once the door closed.

  “You saw that too?” Michael asked, referring to the way the man in the gray suit looked at Jessica.

  “It was almost like he recognized her. Speaking of which, did he seem familiar to you?”

  “Yeah,” Michael agreed. “I couldn't place it though.”

  “Me neither.”

  Michael sighed and looked around the room. “We need to get out of here. Before they decide to sell Jessica.”

  “Agreed. But how do you suppose we do that? We quite literally have our hands tied.”

  Michael shook his head. “I really don't know.”

  Chapter 13

  As Jessica entered the house, she felt like she was stepping into a fine art museum. Everywhere she turned she was confronted with gold, silver, marble, granite, and even some ivory. Large oil canvas paintings with gold leaf frames tastefully hung on the walls. She recognized a few and wondered if they were knockoffs or originals.

  Still guarded but no longer restrained, Jessica was led by the butler up a marble staircase to a luxurious bedroom with its own private bathroom. The butler opened the doors to a giant walk-in closet and told her she should be able to find something in her size. Then he left.

  She looked around the room bewildered, unsure what to think of the way she was being treated or if she should accept the hospitality. While she was pondering, someone knocked on the door. The sound startled her and she jumped.

  “Who is it?” she asked fearfully.

  “Are you decent?” She recognized the voice as the man in the gray suit.

  “Yes.”

  He opened the door and stepped in the room. He gave her a warm smile. “As my butler explained. You should be able to find something more comfortable to wear, in your size.” He gestured toward the closet. “Feel free to take a shower if you like also.”

  “Everything in this house was paid for by the lives of the women you've sold. I don't want any of it,” she replied in disgust.

  His smile vanished and his jaw clenched. “I think your husband would feel differently. I get the feeling he would want you more modestly dressed.” He turned to leave. “Do as you please. Dinner will be ready soon.”

  “I don't want dinner. I want to go home!” she shouted.

  Not even looking at her, he continued out the door. When it closed she burst into tears.

  After a few minutes she gathered herself back together and decided perhaps she should change her clothes. Escaping barefoot in a cocktail dress would be difficult. She walked into the closet that was the size of her master bedroom back home. It had nearly every kind of outfit in varying sizes. She picked out a comfortable pair of athletic pants, a t-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie. She found some sneakers in her size and a pair of socks in one of the drawers.

  Sporting her new outfit, she decided to see how closely she was being watched. She opened her door a crack, discouraged by what she saw. Two guards were stationed outside her room. They turned when they heard the door open. She quickly retreated back inside. She walked to the windows to see if maybe that could be a way out. There were men on the ground beneath her windows. She couldn't get out that way either. She was running out of ideas.

  Another knock came at the door. The butler announced dinner was ready and that he was there to escort her to the dining hall. She took a deep breath and opened the door. She was led to a room that could be described as modest compared to the rest of the house. Still, it was beautifully decorated. A hand-carved, six-seat, cherry dining table sat in the middle of a cream-colored Oriental rug surrounded by elegant, hand-carved, silk upholstered dining chairs. Two place settings were laid out on the table. The butler pulled the chair out for her. She sat down just as the man in the gray suit entered the room. He smiled cordially as he took his seat next to her at the head of the table. She didn't reciprocate.

  They sat silently while the food was brought to the table. The man gazed at Jessica with a slight smile. She tried to ignore it. He dismissed the servants and guards. Jessica didn't touch her plate.

  “Aren't you hungry?” he asked.

  She glared at him. “Why should I eat, when I don't even know if my husband is alive?”

  He sat back in his chair looking her over. He pulled a smartphone from his pocket and tapped away on it. He showed her the screen. She saw Michael and Josh in a storage room.

  “They get nothing to eat?” she asked.

  “Keep watching.”

  They moved away as the door opened. A tray with two plates of food was set in front of them. She could see Michael and Josh yelling but couldn't hear what they were saying. They looked at each other and then at the food. Their hands still tied behind their backs they got on their knees and began to eat the food off the plate. Hunger strikes only work in the movies. It's better to eat what you're offered and keep your strength up, rather than become weak and sick from needless starving.

  “Why don't you untie them so they don't have t
o eat like animals?” she said angrily.

  He pulled the phone away. “I'm afraid with as dangerous as your husband is, I cannot take that risk.” He slipped the phone back in his pocket and picked up his fork. “Please. Eat.”

  One of the things Michael had told her was to eat if she was offered food. Out of respect for him she did, though she didn't want to. She finished half her plate when he asked her a question.

  “Why did you leave?”

  She paused before taking another bite. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  He put his fork down and pushed his plate away, looking agitated. “I want an answer,” he said forcefully.

  Her heart raced and her hands shook. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she repeated.

  “Jessica.” He grew frustrated. “Do you think I wouldn't know my own daughter?”

  Her head started to spin and she felt faint. She pushed her plate away and stared at it, refusing to answer him.

  “Fine,” he said. “Take your time. You're not going anywhere.” He stood up to leave.

  “Your parenting skills weren't exactly a reason to stay,” she blurted.

  He looked at her with a mix of anger and regret. “No one can know you're my daughter,” was all he replied.

  “How do you intend to keep it a secret?”

  “Leave that to me.” He left and the guards came to take her back to her room.

  PIERCE SAT in the study drinking scotch waiting for his boss to finish dinner with Jessica. He was about to pour himself a second glass when he finally walked in.

  “It's about time, Jeff,” said Pierce.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” he replied gruffly.

  “Compensation, of course.” Pierce gestured to the scotch, offering Jeff some. He shook his head. “I can't go back to Boston obviously,” Pierce continued. “I'll need to be relocated for one. Also, I think I deserve some kind of bonus.” He turned with his drink and leaned against the cabinet.

  Jeff took a few steps. “Do you have something in mind?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Pierce grinned. “When you're done with the girl. I want her.”

  Jeff stiffened and looked at Pierce. “What do you want with her?”

  Pierce laughed. “Have you seen her?” He took a sip of his drink. “When I've had my fill of her, I can still catch five figures.” Pierce was near giddy at the thought.

  Jeff pursed his lips as he seemingly contemplated the request. “I'll think about it.”

  Pierce's smile disappeared. It was not the answer he had hoped for, nor expected. “Jeff, what is up with you? You've been acting weird ever since she got here.”

  “Have I?”

  “Yeah. You bring her to the house, set her up in your best room, give her new clothes, and invite her to dinner with you. What are you doing?”

  Jeff crossed his arms and looked stoically at Pierce. “Have you heard the expression, 'You catch more flies with honey?'”

  Pierce rolled his eyes. “You really think that's going to work? You should be beating the life out of her husband and his friend. She'll tell you whatever you want.”

  “I prefer to do it my way,” Jeff insisted. “In the meantime, why don't you go into town for a few days. Take some time off. Enjoy yourself.”

  Pierce shook his head in disbelief. “Fine. Have it your way.” He put his unfinished drink on the cabinet and stormed off.

  Chapter 14

  Corvo and Martin arrived at the local CIA office and were ushered into an empty conference room where Gatti was waiting for them via video conference.

  “What do you have for us?” Corvo asked.

  “Pierce is in the wind,” Gatti replied. “He bought a plane ticket to L.A. but never boarded. We picked up the three men you left at the cabin who were hired to transport Jessica. They were more than happy to see us since they hadn't managed to escape from the bathroom.

  We're not sure where her final destination was. The location the men were supposed to deliver her to was in the middle of nowhere. It's likely they would have been disposed of and Jessica taken by another party the rest of the way.”

  “Why didn't they just use their regular guys? I mean smuggling people is their business,” Martin asked.

  “According to Eric Loukas and the other men hired, Pierce was very nervous about Michael. It's unclear how he even knew about Michael's background since his records are sealed,” Gatti answered. “I believe he used outside help so as not to risk compromising any of his current employees. Also explains why he killed the FBI agent on his payroll.”

  “Do we know why they didn't just kill Michael?” Corvo asked. “Why the elaborate set-up to get him out of the country?”

  “That would be a question for Pierce. I've been wondering the same thing. Maybe he was afraid of failing to kill him and tipping them off. Maybe they hoped to use him as leverage against Jessica or they wanted to force Michael to do something for them. We can only guess,” Gatti said.

  “Does Meier have any contacts in Canada that might be involved in this?” Martin asked.

  “He has a couple known associates, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. I don't imagine he would be so careless as to use them. Besides, we don't even know if Canada was the final stop.”

  Corvo ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Lance, you're back to FBI duty. We don't want your superiors to get suspicious. Martin, if you don't mind, I'd like to send you to Canada to check out a few possible leads. We have to start somewhere. I can get an agent on it, but not as quickly as you could do it.”

  “I don't want to sit on my hands while they have my cousin,” Martin replied. “Tell me what I need to know and I'll handle it.”

  Gatti grinned. “I knew you'd say that. I already made your travel arrangements. Everything you need is on the plane.”

  MARTIN'S FIRST lead took him to Montreal. He waited patiently outside Stephen Gaudreau's apartment and then followed him to a nearby nightclub. After grabbing some supplies he headed in after him. He ordered a drink, trying to blend in. Gaudreau was at the bar trying to strike up a conversation with an under-dressed blond who seemed entirely disinterested.

  When he was close enough to him, Martin tripped a passing waitress, causing much commotion. While everyone's attention was turned to the fallen woman and broken glass, Martin expertly slipped a bug under Gaudreau's shirt collar. He then set his drink on the bar and left.

  While listening to the conversation in the club, Martin let himself into Gaudreau's car and placed a second bug and tracking device. He listened for a few hours, feeling like he was wasting his time. He called Gatti.

  “You got anyone in the area that can babysit this guy?” Martin asked.

  “I can. Why?”

  “This guy isn't working. It's like he's on vacation. I don't think I'm going to get anything useful from him.”

  “Have you confronted him?” Gatti asked.

  “I'm not sure that's the best move,” said Martin. “I don't want to tip anyone off.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “These other leads look like dead ends. I started with Gaudreau because he's higher up in the organization. These other guys are even lower. I seriously doubt they will give me anything useful. Is there anyone else?”

  “Let me check.” A few minutes of silence passed. “There is another, but we've already dismissed him,” Gatti informed him. “Jeffrey Bowen in Manitoba, just outside Winnipeg. They share an interest in obscenely priced wine. Aside from that, he's clean.”

  “Can I see his file anyway?”

  “I'll gather what we have and send it to you. I don't think you'll find anything, but knock yourself out.”

  Chapter 15

  Michael and Josh each sat in a corner of the room. The door opened and a guard directed Michael to come with him. He was brought upstairs and seated upon a chair in the middle of the stable. A similar empty chair sat a few feet away
facing him. After a few moments Jessica's father, Jeff, or as Michael knew him, the man in the gray suit, made himself comfortable in the chair.

  Jeff crossed his legs and closed his hands together. He smiled at Michael, his son-in-law, not terribly impressed. Michael had allowed his daughter to be captured by human traffickers, even using her as bait. Aware also of his propensity toward violence, he wondered what kind of a husband he was.

  “You put my man in the hospital,” Jeff said. “Four broken ribs and a sternal fracture.”

  A barely noticeable smirk crossed Michael's otherwise stoic face.

  “So how long have you been married?” Jeff asked.

  Michael refused to answer, not even acknowledging the question.

  A moment of silence passed before Jeff spoke again. “She's very beautiful. I could get a lot of money for her.”

  That sparked a reaction. Michael shifted in his seat and gave him a look that actually made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Where is she?” he asked.

  “She's fine,” Jeff assured him with a smile. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “Where is this going?” Michael asked annoyed. “You didn't bring me here to ask questions about my marriage.”

  Jeff decided perhaps he should take the conversation in a different direction. “Why did you make your wife hack into my computer?”

  “She didn't hack your computer,” Michael stated forcefully.

  “She didn't?” His eyebrows raised.

  “You have the wrong hacker,” he asserted.

  “Hmph,” Jeff grinned. “I think not.”

  Michael shook his head and looked away. His conviction was sincere.

  “What kind of husband uses his wife as bait for a slave trader?” Jeff asked, a hint of disgust could be heard in his voice.

  The accusation visibly upset Michael as he fought the urge to clear his name. He never wanted to use her as bait, but he wasn't about to say it was her idea. So he said nothing.

 

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