Go! - Hold On! Season 2

by Peter Darley

  The awaited knock on his door came within minutes. “Come in.”

  Kerwin stepped inside, followed by Rhodes.

  “How did it go in New Hampshire?” Rhodes said.

  “Very revealing, as it happens. We have a change of plans. I want Drake taken alive. There are options I never suspected, but we still need to find him. What’d you find out about this skin trade outfit?”

  “Nothing,” Kerwin said. “We’ve run a complete check on Sapphire, including the LAPD database and all vice arrest records. There’s nothing on the guy.”

  Wilmot’s brow crumpled. “Are you sure that bartender was telling you the truth? Is there any chance he was selling you a line of bullshit?”

  Rhodes said, “No chance. If you’d have seen the look in his eyes, you’d know he was convinced. If none of it’s true, he sure as hell believes it is, and so do the patrons in that bar. If it’s bullshit, who took the nun? We spoke to everyone who saw her ride off with this Fabian Rodriguez.”

  “The bartender was afraid for his life,” Kerwin said. “You don’t fake fear like what we saw.”

  Wilmot tapped his lips pensively. “Something’s going down, that’s for sure, but we need to know what we’re dealing with.” He stood and paced the office, mentally formulating the best method of approach. “Get out to Los Angeles and do an initial investigation with the LAPD. Keep it low key. No overkill.”

  “Maybe you should come along,” Rhodes said. “The director of SDT is likely to have more clout than we have.”

  “I intend to. I have to make a stop en route, so I’m giving you a head start.”

  “You got it.”

  Wilmot came closer to them with an intense glare. “I have a gut feeling this is a hell of a lot bigger than you guys suspect. We may need contingencies.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Kerwin said.

  “I’m going to try to persuade Drake’s old unit to assist us in bringing him in.”

  “You’re thinking of calling in the Eighty-Second?”

  “Just to have them on stand-by. It’s their boy we’re after. They’ve got more of a chance of talking him round and avoiding any unnecessary conflict. If I call the FBI in on this, all hell could break loose.”

  The two agents nodded in concurrence.

  “OK, let’s get to it,” Kerwin said, turned, and exited the room with Rhodes.

  Wilmot returned to his desk, picked up his desk phone and made a call. It was quickly answered by a professional-sounding female. “This is Director Andrew Wilmot at SDT. I’d like you to put me through to General Thaddeus Grant.”

  ***

  Buck Weston took in the fresh air as he walked through the stables of his lifelong home, Rolling Hills Ranch. The view surrounding the property, a vast spectacle of hills and greenery for as far as the eye could see, conveyed the pinnacle of majestic scenery in Southern Oregon.

  A third generation cattle rancher, Buck had just turned forty-nine. He’d been divorced for five years, and was beginning to notice the signs of age in his face. His Stetson kept the rapid spread of gray in his hair concealed.

  The news he’d just received from his ranch foreman had not been welcome. With some sadness, he approached the ranch hands’ cabins, situated one hundred yards away from the main house.

  He came to the end and gingerly knocked on the door of the last cabin. He could hear scuffling around inside, and his sadness deepened.

  The door opened, finally. He looked upon a woman in her late twenties wearing a red shirt tied off beneath her bust, leaving her abdomen exposed. Her denim shorts showed off her smooth, slender legs above her ankle boots. Her flowing, dark brown hair failed to disguise her blonde roots. Buck had always been curious about it. Didn’t women usually choose to disguise their dark hair with blonde, and not the other way around?

  “Hi, Buck,” she said.

  “Ralph told me you were leaving.”

  She looked behind her and gestured to an open suitcase. “I was just packing.”

  He stepped inside. “May I ask why?”

  She turned away from him and resumed packing. “Some urgent personal business came up. I have to go to L.A. for awhile.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  “Maybe.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she froze. He knew there was no chance of her returning, and could almost feel her pangs of conscience. He’d given her a job working with the horses, and providing her with a home. He also suspected she knew he was in love with her.

  She turned around again, and he looked into her intensely dark brown eyes. They seemed to bear the spirit of a survivor, yet were graced with such gentle femininity. “You wanna talk about it?” he said.

  “Nothing much to talk about. It’s just personal stuff, nothing exciting.”

  He nodded in reluctant acceptance. “You just won’t let anybody in, will you, Jodie?”

  She threw another t-shirt in the case and turned back to him. “Buck, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The job, a place to stay, but—”

  “It’s OK. It’s none of my business, I know. But I sure am gonna miss you. You’re the best damn stable hand I’ve ever had. I’d make you a partner in a heartbeat, if you’d let me. Till death do us part, even.”

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

  Buck couldn’t figure it out. He knew his credentials. It wasn’t every day that a girl met a successful, single, rugged, millionaire who was just crazy about her. Could it have been the fact he was almost twenty years her senior? She knew he’d been completely committed to his ex-wife. His marriage only ended when he discovered she was a predatory opportunist who’d attempted to financially defraud him. Why won’t she just take a chance on me?

  “I’m gonna miss you, Buck,” she said.

  “Yeah. Touché. You’ve been like one of the family. Three years is a long time. It’s not gonna be the same around here without you.”

  Breaking the embrace, she returned to her suitcase. “Thank you. You don’t know what that means to me.”

  “How are you traveling?”

  “Catching a bus in two hours. It’s a ten hour ride.”

  “Can I give you a ride to the station?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He turned away in exasperation. “You won’t even let me give you a ride?”

  She threw her laptop onto her clothes and zipped up the suitcase. “It’s better this way. I really hate long goodbyes.”

  “I just want you to know you’ve got a home here whenever you want it.” He took a wad of bills out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Please take this. It’s just to tide you over.”

  With a reluctant expression, she took the money, and then picked up her suitcase. She followed him out and closed the door behind her. “Goodbye, Buck.”

  “Goodbye, Jodie.”

  Standing beside the cabin, he watched as she walked across the dusty yard, finally permitting his tears to come. He always knew this day would come, just as he’d always known she was running. From what, he had no idea. But expecting her to leave and actually facing it were worlds apart. “I’ll always love you,” he whispered.

  Jodie succumbed to sadness and regret. Her stoicism made way for a rare show of tears as she reached the end of the stables. She’d developed a bond with the horses as she’d tended to them over the many months. She tried not to look at them as she departed.

  Making her way around the sprawling grounds to the mile-long entrance, she recalled the summer’s day when she’d arrived three years earlier. She’d already spent two years concealing herself by moving from one menial job to another. Before arriving in Jackson County, she’d traveled across Idaho and Wyoming, using countless aliases. She’d felt more at home and safer with Buck than anywhere else.

  The other ranch hands had grown to accept and love her. She knew most of them harbored a secret desire to sleep with her, but she’d always maintained the boundaries.r />
  If only she hadn’t had to lie every single day. ‘Jodie Madison’ had been her most enduring pseudonym. She knew she couldn’t have entered into a relationship with Buck when all she could offer him was a falsehood. She hadn’t been able to connect with any of them beyond the occasional frivolous laugh and casual conversation.

  Fear gripped her at the thought of emerging from the shadows to set foot in Los Angeles again.

  But there was more than just herself at stake. If she could make contact with people who may be able to bring an end to the demons that plagued her, she could live free again, securing the freedoms of many others in the process.

  And for the first time in five years, she would finally hear her true name again.

  Thirty-Two

  Hidden

  Emily stared at her face in the mirror, but didn’t see herself. The woman in the reflection was a stranger to her. Wearing a delicate application of makeup, her complexion had been given a flawless appearance. Her hair had been lightened to a dark shade of blonde, and straightened from her slightly-wavy natural look. It fell shining and smelling of lilacs, onto her shoulders.

  Barely aware she was under the effects of euphoria-inducing compounds and tranquilizers, she was constantly uncertain if she was dreaming. She was hardly aware of the brush stroking her hair from behind, or of the woman brushing it. The attendant had very dark hair and looked to be in her early twenties. Emily thought she was perhaps Chinese or Japanese.

  Remotely conscious of the room she’d been confined to, she deduced it was a large bedroom with no windows. The thick, cream-colored carpet and the oriental décor of the walls suggested opulence.

  Several men had been sent to her room. They’d forced her to perform unspeakable acts upon them, but she found it difficult to remember. It had all occurred in a haze, like a distorted vision. Her life as a nun had become a vague recollection, indistinguishable from a dream. She no longer had any sense of identity or being.

  Her vacant gaze fell upon a surveillance camera trained on her at all times from the top left hand corner of the ceiling.

  Fabian Rodriguez stood behind his employer as she sat watching Emily on her office desk monitor. “Well?”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah, she sure is.”

  The woman turned around and looked up at him sternly with dark, piercing eyes. Her expression oozed icy opportunism, with no hint of love or morality. “You just make sure the men only instruct her in the basics. Under no circumstances are they to take her virginity.”

  “They’re not gonna do something as stupid as that, Mae Ling. Her virginity will triple her bids. And that’s far more than any of those assholes will be able to cover.”

  She stood and straightened her black business jacket, her fingers lightly brushing a golden dragon broach on her lapel. “I want her ready for the auction next Friday.”

  “You got it. I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan. I think you forget I’ve got a stake in this too.”

  She smiled seductively and gently caressed his cheek. Despite his lustful infatuation for her, he knew she was unreservedly ruthless. There was also the far greater danger of Sapphire’s vengeance should a sexual relationship develop between them.

  “How could I forget that?” she said throatily. “I just want to make sure those animals don’t violate her completely. They have their uses, but their cocks often override their reason.”

  “I’m aware of that, and I have it under control.”

  She turned back to the monitor and watched as the oriental girl continued to attend to Emily. “I want maximum security next week. Every buyer is to be double and triple checked, including those who are regulars. No mishaps. No oversights.”

  Fabian gripped Mae Ling lightly by the shoulders and held her gaze. “Now, what could possibly go wrong?”

  The concern in her face showed she wasn’t as confident as usual. He didn’t know why. Was she paranoid? Nevertheless, he knew she would spare no expense to thwart whatever threat may be forthcoming.

  ***

  Tyler pulled up the van outside Miranda Curtis’ home in San Fernando, with Brandon and Belinda sitting beside him.

  “Looks homey enough,” Brandon said.

  Tyler turned to him. “Yeah, look, I think you guys should stay put while I go check it out.”

  “OK.”

  Tyler stepped out of the van. He paused momentarily in preparation for what he was going to say. Miranda didn’t know him, and the only information he had about her was from a brief conversation with Alex. He moved forward and approached the front door.

  As he came to thirty feet away, he was startled as the door opened. A middle-aged man in a business suit stepped out with his head lowered, his hands lightly grasping his buttocks.

  Immediately, Miranda appeared with her spiked collar, and a full rubber body-suit. “Can I help you?” she said in a stern voice.

  The man in the business suit hurried past Tyler and quickened his pace along the walkway, clearly embarrassed. It was blatantly obvious what his business in the house had been.

  Tyler had difficulty suppressing an amused chuckle. “S-sorry to bother you, ma’am. I’m looking for Miranda Curtis. Do you know her?”

  She looked at him with a suspicious glint in her eyes. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Tyler Faraday. Alex Dalton sent me here.”

  The van door closed, and Brandon and Belinda walked up the driveway. Brandon’s face was heavily shrouded by large Ray-Bans and a baseball cap.

  Miranda’s gaze moved over Tyler’s shoulder. Her demeanor relaxed into a look of awe, as though she was staring at a man for whom she’d harbored a quiet admiration. “Come on, get inside. Hurry.”

  They followed her inside, and she closed the door behind them.

  Tyler took a moment to come to terms with the strange regalia of whips and crops decorating Miranda’s hallway. Brandon slowly removed his sunglasses in a manner that suggested, ‘What the hell?’

  “You never let me down, do you, Alex?” Tyler mumbled with a chuckle.

  “Come into the living room,” Miranda said.

  As they stepped inside, Miranda removed her spiked collar.

  “Ma’am? Miranda, is it?” Tyler said.

  “Yes, I do apologize.”

  “OK. Miranda, I’m Tyler. This is my brother Brandon, and his girlfriend, Belinda.”

  “I know. You’re quite the celebrities.”

  “Alex sent us here. I hope you don’t mind, but we need to know what’s happening.”

  “Of course,” she said in a chirpy, cooperative tone. “Let me get us all some coffee, and then we can go over it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They removed their jackets and sat as Miranda made her way over to the kitchen.

  She quickly returned with their coffees. “So,” she said, “let me tell you where we’re at. Alex called me and said your sister has been taken by someone called Sapphire. He also wanted any information we could find on some guy named Fabian Rodriguez.”

  “Yeah, that’s about it,” Tyler said. “Alex never misses a thing.”

  “Well, I’ve got somebody working on it.”

  Their gazes shot up in eager anticipation. “Who?” Brandon said.

  “A friend of mine. Tamara Quinn. She has contacts in the Avenue Nineteen area. There’s some kind of a story about a woman called Siren, who escaped from Sapphire and went into hiding. Tamara’s trying to find a way of contacting her, but it’s going to take time.”

  “How come?” Tyler said.

  “We’re not even sure this person exists. And if she does, it’s gonna take a lot of networking. It’s a nightmare.”

  Brandon gave his leg a frustrated slap. “Is there any way we can meet Tamara?”

  “Of course. But for now, I really think you should all stay here. I’ve got a spare room upstairs. I think this will be the safest place for you with everything that’s going on.”

  “W
e can’t ask that of you,” Brandon said. “I’m a wanted man, and you would be harboring a fugitive.”

  She smiled at him warmly. “I’ve been doing that since the moment you stepped through the front door. You’re a hero, Brandon. I have a lot of admiration for you. So do many others.”

  Brandon looked away with a shameful expression.

  “We’d love to stay, Miranda, and we can’t thank you enough.” Tyler shot Brandon an insistent glance. His sister’s life was in serious danger. The authorities went to the bottom of his list of priorities as long as she remained in jeopardy.

  However, Brandon clearly didn’t share his viewpoint. “Are you crazy?”

  “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve got a plan to get Emily out as safely as possible, and I’m gonna do everything I can to make that happen.”

  “What plan?”

  Belinda slapped her forehead. “Oh, hell. I never told you, did I?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. We had so much going on with you being ill and all, it just slipped my mind.”

  Miranda frowned. “Brandon? Have you been unwell?”

  “It’s fine. I got over it.” He turned back to Tyler. “What’s this plan?”

  “Well, I had an idea of infiltrating these guys, and . . .”

  “And what?”

  “I intend to buy Emily.”

  “You what?”

  “Look, can you think of a better idea? I’ve got the money, the connections, and no warrant out for my arrest. All I’ll have to do is play the role. But first I need to know which slime balls to hook up with.”

  Brandon shook his head. “I don’t like this, Ty. It’s twisted.”

  “It’s the only way, bro.”

  “It’s insane.”

  “Well, what the hell would you do, Interceptor? Bust in there with guns blazing, and just hope she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire?”

  Brandon stood rapidly, fists clenched, and the scar on his forehead deepened.