by Carter Blake
The bar I take her to is mere seconds away from the location of the human trafficking auction. I order two glasses of Merlot, sitting down at a candle-lit table with Dani once we’ve been served.
The flame from the candle reflects off of Dani’s dress, making her look almost ethereal.
“Earth to Janus,” I vaguely hear Dani say. “You’re staring a little too hard, you know.”
I shake my head slightly and chuckle. “I guess it won’t be so difficult for me to pretend we’re a newly-minted couple at the auction, then.”
I regret mentioning the auction almost immediately—it ruins the atmosphere I was hoping we could keep for at least thirty more minutes.
It’s probably for the best, of course, that we spend our final half hour going over the plan for the evening, but I regret bringing up the subject, nonetheless.
Seven o’clock comes far too soon, and before I know it, Dani and I find ourselves opening the heavy wooden doors of a beautiful building, both somehow simplistic with its white-washed walls and opulent in its grandeur.
If it wasn’t the site of a flesh auction, I’d commend the organizers on their choice of venue.
After getting past security, Dani immediately points out a few familiar faces as discreetly as possible—all corrupt policemen that I met in the precinct and all acting as security agents.
“I wish that was surprising, but it’s merely disappointing,” I murmur to Dani out of the corner of my mouth.
A waiter offers us a glass of champagne, which we both accept and use as an excuse to pause and observe the rest of the people around us.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, as if they were at some glitzy charity event.
I hear Dani inwardly gasp a little. I instinctively react by kissing her quickly.
“That was too obvious, love,” I mutter, my lips millimeters from hers.
Dani looks up at me with a mix of shock and understanding on her face, too engrossed in whatever she saw to wrap her mind around the fact that I just kissed her for the first time in three years.
“On the stage, Janus,” she whispers, keeping up the charade of our little public display of affection to keep our conversation private. “That boy can’t be older than five.”
I swing my head around to check the stage out.
Dani’s right; the boy currently being auctioned off is horrifically young.
I feel my stomach twist violently as I take in the rest of the men, women, and children up on stage, waiting to be auctioned off.
I keep a wan smile on my face before taking a sip of champagne.
“Time to immerse ourselves in the mission now. Get your game face on.”
I glance at her, and, in a second, she transforms her face into a bland and beautiful display of mild amusement. She fits in perfectly.
I can’t help but wish we had never left her hotel room.
But we have a job to do, and people who depend on us to do it.
And hell if I’m going to let anyone lay a hand on that five-year-old boy trembling in fear on stage.
“Come on, Felix, I think you’ll like the next man being auctioned. Let’s get closer.”
Dani smiles beautifully. “You know me so well, Tony.”
I take a breath.
Time to get the evidence we need to blow this operation sky-high.
Chapter 16
Janus
“Antony, I think I should go check out the stock,” Dani murmurs to me, as soon as the auctioneer announces a short break before the second part of the auction begins.
I throw her a wolfish grin. “I think that’s a splendid idea. I’ll meet you back here when the auction continues with new drinks.”
She kisses me on the cheek, and even though I know it’s to keep our cover up, it still makes me unnecessarily happy. Perhaps Dani didn’t block out my sudden kiss from before.
“The two of you make a beautiful couple,” a male voice suddenly says.
Dani and I both break away from each other to turn and face the man who’s spoken.
He’s an older gentleman—not that I’d consider anyone who would appear at a human auction ‘gentle’—and American to boot. A younger woman to his right smiles brightly up at me, then rather falsely at Danielle.
Dani laughs lightly. “You’re too kind, sir.”
“I haven’t seen the two of you here before. First-timers?”
I nod my head. “Is it that obvious?”
“Ahh, not especially. I just haven’t seen you at any related events.”
“I’m ashamed to say that we’re ‘new money,’” Dani lies smoothly. “I just came into a large inheritance, so my partner and I really are very new to all this. I hope you’ll treat us kindly.”
The older man positively beams at Dani. “But of course! Miss…?”
“Felicity Rogers,” Dani replies, holding out her hand.
The man takes a hold of her delicate fingers and kisses her hand. I have to stop myself from bristling as I watch another man’s lips touch Dani’s skin.
“A pleasure. I’m Professor Walter Briggs, and my companion is the lovely Ivanka.”
I have to hold back my disgust. A professor. At a flesh auction.
And no surname for the partner suggests that it’s foreign and difficult for Briggs to pronounce. Such class.
“And who is your handsome partner?” Ivanka inquires in heavily accented English—I’m fairly certain she’s Eastern Ukrainian—as she stares at me keenly.
“Antony Marshall, at your service.”
I feel a hand on my arm and look to see Dani smiling up at me. “Tony, my love, those drinks?”
“Ah, of course, Felix.” I give the couple an apologetic smile. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. But I’d love to continue this conversation later.”
Walter and Ivanka both seem very happy with this, their hungry eyes on Dani and myself respectively.
“Sounds wonderful, Mr. Marshall. Miss Rogers, I look forward to getting to know you further.”
She gives the pair a radiant smile, and then we part ways.
Dani looks at me in disgust when we’re alone again. “I may as well have been prancing about naked with the way he was looking through my dress.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her in close. I’m satisfied to see her face flush a little. “Clearly these monsters don’t just view the people up on stage as possessions—that viewpoint extends to anything they believe they can own.”
Dani reaches up to whisper in my ear. “Then let’s get the information we need to take these fuckers out.”
God, she’s so sexy—even when talking about human trafficking.
I push a few stray strands of hair away from her face. “Check out the stock. I’ll be back soon.”
“Careful, Tony. Be careful.”
I smile. “I know. Don’t let Professor Briggs near you whilst I’m gone, Felix.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “As if I’d let that leech touch me again. Not willingly, anyway.”
Regretfully, I leave Dani on her own as I slink off to find some kind of office or information storage room.
I do a round of the main hall, keeping my eyes on the security team. It doesn’t take me long to work out where the office is based on where security is heaviest.
I slip down the corridor and to the small office embarrassingly easily—the corrupt policemen being hired as security won’t keep their jobs for much longer once it becomes apparent that someone has procured the trafficking ring’s sensitive information.
The office has two computers. Employing some hacking skills learned from years working with Leviathan, it’s not long before I get past the passwords and access the information I need.
It’s all there.
Everything Dani will need for her exposé.
Everything to land these fuckers in prison.
Everything to free those being imprisoned and sold off as we speak.
I grin humorlessly as I download the information
to a couple of USB sticks—always handy to have a backup just in case—resisting the urge to tap my foot impatiently as I watch the download status bar creeping its way to completion.
When I’ve downloaded everything from one computer, I move to the next, repeating the same inexorable waiting game while the information gets copied to the storage devices.
A creak of the door causes me to whip around.
Oh, fuck.
It’s one of the traffickers.
He tries to bite out a warning for back-up, but my hand is over his mouth before he utters a single syllable.
A quick knee to the gut and a steady arm around the man’s neck, and he’s out cold.
I sigh in relief as I silently place the unconscious man on the floor and return to the computers. The download is complete.
Thank God.
I reach out to remove the last flash drive.
“Don’t even think about it.”
The click of a gun safety being disabled causes me to turn around very, very slowly. Another of the traffickers clearly heard the ruckus.
And now, he has his gun held two feet away from me, aimed at my head.
Oh, fuck, indeed.
The man mutters some Greek obscenities—clearly not expecting me to understand.
“Such language. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, kólos?”
The man frowns, apparently not keen on being called an asshole, then takes a step towards me.
I can’t believe this will be the way I die.
I haven’t achieved anything yet.
I think of Danielle.
Then there’s a loud crack, and the man in front of me falls, sightless, to the floor.
There’s Dani, a bloodied crowbar in hand. She glances at it and drops it with a clamor.
“Did you get the information?” she asks breathlessly.
Stunned, I turn from her for a second to remove the USB, then I grab Dani’s arm, and we rush out of the office, not looking back once as we escape back into the auction hall as inconspicuously as possible.
“You are amazing, Felix,” I murmur, remembering her code name at the last second.
She flashes a smile at me. “Good thing I was worried and decided to check up on you then, Tony.”
There’s a pause as we get our breath back and wait for the adrenaline to leave our system.
“I’ll send you this information in an encrypted file as soon as I get back to my hotel room.”
Dani nods at me. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”
I glance up at the stage, where the second part of the auction has begun.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Chapter 17
Danielle
I can’t believe it.
I can’t believe we actually did it!
The adrenaline courses through my entire body as we leave the auction and get the fuck out of Dodge. My job has taken me to a lot of places, but having to use violence in order to rescue my partner-in-crime?
That’s a new one.
It was kind of fun, actually.
I didn’t realize that I was capable of doing something like that. I almost felt like a superhero, like I was Wonder Woman or something.
My editor is not going to know what hit her.
We drive in silence on our route back to our hotel. I still can’t decipher what my relationship with him is anymore.
We work well as business partners. Once he’s on my side, Janus is one of the most dependable men I’ve ever met. He’s got skills, and, I hate to say it, but he’s got talents that I don’t have and informants which come in incredibly handy when all of mine are shit.
But then I catch myself looking at him and remembering that night in South Sudan. The way it felt to kiss him, his lips on mine—then on my skin. His deft fingers as they effortlessly stripped me naked.
I catch myself thinking about fucking him, about feeling him inside me and how good it felt when I came underneath him.
And then I catch myself wanting a repeat performance.
Especially after tonight.
It’s worse, because we’re both so adamant not to touch each other. I can see it in Janus’ eyes, too—he wants me. But we’re both stubborn, and we’re both eager not to look weak and cave first.
The memories of South Sudan are still too fresh—even if it was three years ago.
Maybe we’re both afraid that sex means we’ll have to leave each other again. Maybe we’re both too afraid to find out what happens if we actually wake up next to one another.
But that’s a story I’ll dive into another day.
First, I’ve got to go get this evidence to my editor, and then I’m going to start typing up a first draft. Then I might shower or go get a drink.
After tonight, I’m on top of the world.
I can do anything.
But firstly, as I walk into my hotel room, I kick off my shoes. I don’t even care where they land.
Then I proceed in taking out my earrings and unclasping my necklace. I want to shed every layer of this disguise and just go back to being Dani Robinson, investigative journalist.
As I walk into the bedroom, I let down my hair and step out of my dress, leaving it in a puddle on the floor to be picked up later. I take my robe from where it hangs behind the door and tie it around my waist.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror and smile.
I collect my laptop from the room safe—as if I was going to leave that out in the open—and then retrieve the USB drive of my copy of the information from my purse.
I’m relieved that Janus made two copies of the data. Having my own copy is going to keep me busy, but having his colleague go through it, too, is an extra boon. I don’t know who Leviathan is, but I know he’s good—maybe even the best.
I doubt he’s going to break the news to the press before I have the chance to publish my story.
And if he does, I’ll kill him.
I throw myself onto the bed, stretching out and laying on my stomach. The glow of my laptop illuminates my face, and I quickly log in and open up a word document. Then I open up my emails and begin to send the file of evidence to my editors—all of them, just in case. I can’t afford to take any risks.
Actually, I have a better idea.
I pause in writing my first draft after I’m fifty words or so in and roll onto my back. I reach out and grab the white plastic room phone and lift the whole thing off of the bedside table.
“Hello, this is the front desk. How may I help you?” Speaks the thick Greek accent on the other end of the phone.
“Hello, can I order some room service to room 509 please?”
“Of course, ma’am. What would you like?”
“Is too late to order champagne? And some strawberries?”
“Of course not, ma’am.”
There’s a pause and I hear the clicking of keys as he types in my order.
“That’ll be with you shortly, ma’am, and the cost shall be added to your bill.”
“Thank you so much,” I smile into the receiver and hang up.
I roll back over onto my stomach and start typing away again. My fingers furiously tap at the keys, trying to get down everything onto the page before I forget it. As though I could forget the events of the last few days that easily.
But a first draft is always rough.
My stomach is grumbling a little when I hear a knock at the door. I leap off of the bed and re-tie my robe around my waist so that I don’t give the poor bell boy more than his fair tip.
I swagger across to the door and open it to a young man—who looks like he belongs on the cover of Teen Vogue—holding a tray with a bottle of champagne, a plate of strawberries, and two glasses. The second flute catches me off-guard and I don’t think to correct the poor boy and tell him to take it away. This bottle of champagne isn’t for two people—I’m having it all to myself.
“Yes, thank you. You can place it on the coffee table.”
I
stand aside for the bell boy to enter, and I watch him as his eyes linger on me and my silk robe before it becomes awkward. He almost trips over the corner of the rug—but saves himself just as he puts down the tray.
I find my purse and hand the boy a five euro note before sending him on his way.
Then I turn back to the two glasses and pour myself one.
Maybe I should be celebrating this colossal win with someone. Maybe I should be celebrating it with Janus—after all, I doubt I could have achieved any of this without him.
It’s been so long since someone’s put their neck on the line to help me, I’m not entirely sure how to thank him or process the emotions it brings to the surface. I’m so used to having to do things on my own.
It was so easy to work with him, too. When I said that Janus had proven himself to be the most reliable man I’d ever met, it wasn’t as though he had a whole bunch of competition. After I left him in South Sudan, I was almost convinced that he was just like the rest, but tonight—and in the police station—he’s proven that he can be depended on.
I can’t help but wonder what’s in it for him.
I know he’s always had a soft spot for orphans—who doesn’t? But that can’t be the entire reason he’s working with me now, can it?
What am I doing? The more I try and pick apart Janus’ motives, the less and less I’ll be able to trust him, and I need to be able to trust him. I need to be able to trust someone in Athens.
Hell, I need to able to trust someone in the entirety of Greece.
And Janus just seems to understand me. He might not agree with my methods all the time, but he’s capable of working with them. We don’t even need to talk; he just knows what I’m thinking.
That kind of partnership is hard to come by in my line of work.
Maybe I should ring him.
I go to find my phone in the bedroom, pulling it from where I’d tossed it down next to my laptop. The document to my editors is still uploading to be sent—but it’s at ninety percent now, so any minute, my exposé will start its first steps towards being published.
As I lift my phone, Janus’ contact details come up on the screen.
Then it rings.
“Hello?”
“Dani, have you eaten yet?” Janus’ smooth voice caresses my ear through the phone.