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Safe Harbor

Page 10

by Kit Kyndall


  “They probably already have homes that they’ve been torn away from,” said Olivia with a tremor in her voice. “If you’re here to buy children, what’s with the fancy getup?”

  “I don’t know,” said Henry reluctantly. “My friend’s friend just told me when and where to show up, gave me the invitation, and told us to come dressed for black tie. And to bring cash.”

  “How much cash?” asked Justin, his mind whirling.

  Henry clearly wasn’t going to answer, but Stella came through. She opened her purse to show them it was stuffed full of bills. “We brought two hundred fifty thousand dollars. The man told Henry that was the minimum we’d have to flash to get through the door, along with our invitation.”

  “Are they only selling children in there?” asked Olivia, her disgust clear in her tone.

  Henry was the one who answered. “No. From what I understand, it’s a range of ages, and they’re suitable for various tasks.”

  Justin’s heart was hammering in his ears, and he was suddenly anxious to be done with this couple and in the building, trying to find Julia. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Stella, you’re going to give Olivia your purse and dress. Henry, you and I will swap clothing, and I’m taking possession of the invitation. Then you’re going to drive home and forget about all of this.”

  “What about my baby?” asked Stella.

  Simultaneously, Henry asked, “What about the money?”

  Justin sneered at him. “Just think how much money you’d have to pay in legal fees to defend your presence here when the authorities arrive and shut down the event. Consider it a write-off or a loss. Hell, if you want, consider it a bribe to stay out of prison. Either way, I doubt you’ll get it back. Unless you want to give us your name and address, so we can provide that to the authorities to return it to you?”

  Henry was sweating in earnest now, and he simply shook his head.

  Justin wiggled his gun just a bit, reminding the other man he had it. “Start stripping.”

  Julia sat in a cage raised several feet in the air. She was high enough so that no one would bump their head on the bottom of the metal platform, but low enough that those around her could still stop and gawk at her. There were a few other potential slaves suspended in similar fashion around the room, and like her, they all wore ball gags and had their hands cuffed to the bars. She had quickly deduced they were troublemakers, like her, so they were displayed in such a way, perhaps as a warning to buyers, or maybe even as a challenge to those with the taste to break their purchases.

  The remainder of the stock, as the asshats around her called the people who they planned to auction off that evening, were arranged around the room. Most of them didn’t wear chains, or even handcuffs. They didn’t have ball gags, and they didn’t try to run. She struggled not to be disgusted with their lack of fire and unwillingness to fight their fate.

  She had been held in the same conditions as them as for one day, while many of them had probably been prisoners for months. A few spoke English, and she’d managed to piece together some of the people were working off a debt in exchange for being smuggled in, ostensibly to find a better life. Some were outright kidnapped, especially the children. A few of them, from what she’d gleaned from the other prisoners, had been sold to brokers like Marconi, traded for money, or to pay off their parents’ debts.

  The auction part of the evening hadn’t gotten underway yet. The assemblage was still pretending this was just a party, mingling, drinking, eating, and talking as though they were at a fundraiser for the symphony rather than preparing to buy another human being for the purpose of enslavement. Along with Marconi, they were the ones who truly deserved her disgust, not the people who had been captured and broken down in the process.

  She kept her gaze straight ahead, refusing to look at any who stopped to stare at her. She had grown accustomed to the sensation of being watched, and she was trying fervently to pretend like she wasn’t sitting naked in the cage. She had arranged her body to hide as much as possible, but there were gazes on her constantly.

  A prickling sensation along her spine alerted her to someone looking at her. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation under the circumstances, but it was different somehow. She was compelled to turn her head to find the source, and she gasped lightly.

  There was a steady flow of people entering the room, vetted by the door security people, and she had long since stopped looking at them, but now, her gaze focused there. Justin and a brunette woman beside him were just entering. His gaze was focused on hers, as though it automatically homed in on her. She was surprised to see him, though not shocked that he had come to rescue her. She had no idea how he’d found her like this, and she assumed it must have something to do with the brunette at his side.

  She eyed the other woman, realizing abruptly she was analyzing the way they stood together, searching for a hint of intimacy, though that should be the least of her concerns. They stood close together, giving the semblance of a couple, but there was no heat, and they weren’t touching. She was satisfied by the brief visual examination that this woman held no attraction for Justin, or vice versa.

  Her visual examination had also revealed their clothes were slightly on the ill-fitting side. The brunette woman’s black dress was a little droopy in the bust line and around the hips, but it wasn’t blatantly oversized. However, the tux Justin wore was clearly at least two sizes too large, and a bit short at the ankles. She wondered where he’d acquired it, briefly imagining he had stopped by a rental place and taken what was available.

  She was tense as they approached, slowly making their way through the crowd as not to be too obvious. Finally, when they were directly below her, she looked down and met his eyes. Olivia allowed a ghost of a smile before blanking her expression again, just in case Marconi or one of his people were observing her too closely. “What are you doing here?” she asked softly, her voice blending into the chatter around her.

  “We’re here to buy a slave,” said Justin, though his lips were pinched. “We’re considering you.”

  “I’m flattered. What do you and your wife want with a slave?”

  “I do hate to clean,” said the brunette. Her tone was lighthearted, but her purple-blue eyes were steely, and her posture radiated suppressed fury.

  “Easy there, Olivia,” said Justin.

  The woman, now identified as Olivia, took a deep breath and nodded.

  “Do you know how these things work?” asked Olivia, her gaze focusing on Julia, who finally managed to look away from Justin again. She’d been busy drinking in the sight of him, gratified to discover he had survived the encounter with the goons at his ranch, and he was here, safe and in one piece—at least until they made a move to disrupt the auction.

  “I’m not really sure. It’s my first time here,” she said with heavy irony.

  “Ours too,” said Olivia.

  At that moment, a distinguished older man, who looked like a benevolent grandfather, though was clearly cold and heartless as evidenced by his presence there, turned to Olivia and Justin. “Did you say this is your first time?”

  Justin nodded, but didn’t speak.

  “It’s rather simple, really. You have the first hour to check out the stock and decide what you might be interested in purchasing.” He glanced at a large clock on the wall. “The auction phase will begin in about ten minutes. It’s probably best not to discuss the event with the merchandise. It gets messy if you blur the lines.” He darted his gaze upward to Julia, who glared down at him as he said the words.

  Olivia stiffened, as did Justin, and Julia was impressed by how composed he sounded when he said, “Of course. It’s our first time, you know.”

  The sleazebag nodded. “What are you in the market for?”

  “I’d like a maid,” said Olivia, with only a hint of a tremor in her voice.

  He turned slightly, pointing to a group of slaves across the room. “For domestic help, you’ll want one like that. See how they’re
arranged in full docility? That lets you know they’ve been broken in already. You won’t get any fuss from them.” He pointed up at the cage from where Julia swung. “You don’t want one like that one.”

  “Why not?” asked Justin. His voice throbbed with outrage, and his anger was palatable.

  The older man held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Whoa. I wasn’t trying to imply you aren’t up to the challenge. I just want to make sure you understand the designation. If they’re in a cage, it means they’re feisty. They’re among the most expensive merchandise, and they’re usually sought out by people with particular tastes. It sounds like you and the missus aren’t interested in that sort of purchase, so I’m trying to steer you the right way.”

  “What about the children?” asked Olivia, her voice shaking.

  Julia cringed on the woman’s behalf when the man squeezed her shoulder in a condescending fashion. “It’s best not to dwell on that sort of thing for a tenderhearted woman like yourself, ma’am.”

  “Thank you for your help,” said Justin in a clipped tone. He was clearly having trouble keeping it together and not revealing their true purpose for being there.

  “Sure, pal. If you have any questions, just find me. They don’t do such a good job of explaining the process, and it can be confusing for new buyers.”

  Olivia somehow managed what passed as a gracious smile, though it melted from her face as soon as the other man turned away and moved through the crowd. “Is it okay if we shoot them all?”

  Julia had to bite back a laugh, knowing it would be inappropriate to show any sign of amusement under the circumstances. It might cause awkward questions. In fact, she had to give the appearance that she wasn’t part of the conversation, and she looked away from them, though she heard most of what they whispered.

  She was certain she caught the words FBI, friend, and confidential. Justin appeared to be arguing, and she was certain she heard him say something about trustworthiness and leaks in the department, and she gleaned they were arguing about whether they should involve someone Olivia knew from the FBI in bringing down the auction. When Justin glanced at her, his gaze catching hers, she briefly nodded. It was a risk worth taking.

  He sighed, his shoulders collapsing in a sign of acquiescence. Olivia’s tone was bright and full of forced cheer when she said, “I’m going to try to find a powder room around here, darling.”

  He nodded at her before standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. Julia wished she could talk to him, but she was afraid of blowing his cover if she did so. He clearly felt the same way, because he didn’t speak, though his gaze constantly drifted in her direction. He was so close, but still so far away.

  13

  It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done to walk away from Julia perched in the cage and join the crowd of buyers when a sexy blonde in a sparkling green dress appeared on the makeshift stage dominating the corner of the room. Compliments of the sound system, her voice carried throughout the room, and she quickly made it clear bidding was about to start.

  It would be too overt if he stayed beneath Julia’s cage, so he followed the others as they gathered around the stage. All of the seats were taken quickly, with standing room only remaining. He preferred it that way, wanting to be able to react quickly. Olivia slipped back into sight and came over to stand beside him just as the blonde emcee started the auction. Justin tuned her out to turn toward Olivia, bending down to brush his lips against her cheek, but really so he could whisper, “Did you get everything set up?”

  Olivia nodded, her hair tickling his nose as she moved her head, looking as though she was nibbling on his ear. “I got hold of my friend, Harrison Chase, and he’s putting together a task force. They’ll be here soon. When they get here, the power will go out, and all hell will break loose. We need to focus on freeing Julia, and then as many of the others as possible.”

  Justin nodded, keeping his voice low. “Just so you understand my first priority is her. Once I get her down, I’m getting her out before I help with anything else.”

  She nodded as she pulled away, giving him a brilliant smile. “Understood, darling.”

  The auction progressed rapidly, and it was truly like a meat market. He was disgusted by the never-ending stream of people forced to tromp across the stage. Most of them wore humble clothing, though a few were forced to display their bodies for everyone present. They were the ones who were probably considered more attractive than the rest. It seemed to be an unspoken signal to the buyers of what the slave’s intended purpose was too.

  He balled his hands into fists when a string of children were bid on and sold, relieved to see they weren’t turned over to the buyers just yet. That exchange would probably happen after the auction, and they were all herded together against the wall in the corner. It would make it easier to get them out, especially since they appeared to be near an exit, and he turned to Olivia.

  He brushed a fake kiss against her cheek as he whispered, “When the lights go down, I want you to focus on getting the slaves in the corner out to safety. I’ll get Julia myself.” He lifted his head before she could mount an argument, though her gaze suggested she didn’t agree. He nodded, his determination unwavering.

  After a moment, Olivia’s shoulders fell, and she nodded just once.

  It was less than five minutes later that the power suddenly cut out. As Olivia had predicted, all hell broke loose. Most people seemed to assume it was just a power outage, but that didn’t stop panic from spreading.

  A multitude of cell phones suddenly appeared, lighting up the pitch-black interior enough to maneuver, but also hindering their ability to do so covertly. With one last nod to Olivia, who was making her way to the group of people lined up against the wall, he moved away from her, back toward Julia.

  Obscured by the crowd, his gaze fell on one of the security men trying to restore order. Using those around him as a shield, he pretended to jostle others near him, calling on the memory of real panic attacks to mimic one. He was afraid for a moment that might actually trigger a real attack, but he remained as focused and in control as he had been even while pretending to be losing it.

  The security man pushed through the others to reach him, grabbing hold of Justin’s lapels and shaking him. “Get hold of yourself, man.”

  To the casual observer, it probably looked like Justin’s arms flailed independently and without forethought. In fact, he deliberately focused on punching the other man in the throat. He went down heavily, and Justin allowed himself to be dragged down atop him. People were flailing around and running in chaos, and it provided him plenty of cover to relieve the other man of his gun, which he pressed against his stomach. “How do I get the people in the cages down?”

  The guy was clearly struggling for breath, but it must have been motivating to have a gun shoved more forcefully into his gut, because he suddenly managed to speak in a choked rasp. “There’s an electronic system in the next room over that raises and lowers the cages, and another lever that opens the doors.”

  “Thanks for your cooperation.” Justin lifted the gun he’d taken from the security guard and hit him hard enough on the temple to immediately render him unconscious, though with little risk of killing him.

  Then he scrambled to his feet and slipped through the crowd, using them as cover until they split off. They were headed toward the exit, and he was headed toward the control room.

  He met resistance almost immediately. The roar of the crowd did a good job of muffling the sound of the gun, and it was thoughtfully outfitted with a silencer too. He took out the first two goons who approached, shooting them without hesitation or remorse.

  Then he moved on, making his way through the other room. It was nearly as large as the first, where they were holding the auction, and it was guarded well. He had to get through four of Marconi’s people before he finally found what he assumed was the control panel.

  There were the levers the guard had mentioned, one for each of t
he six cages suspended in the room, but also a master control switch. Using the camera system, he pressed it and confirmed as best he could with the low illumination in the other room that the cages were lowering. Before he could pull the lever to open the doors, something hot scorched his back, and he jerked in response before turning to face the source as agony flared.

  Julia let out a startled sound when the cage started to descend, but she gripped the bars and held on, unsurprised by the jolt that jarred her when the cage collided firmly with the cement floor. Her teeth clacked together, and she bit her tongue hard enough to taste copper, but shoved aside the pain. She started tugging at the handcuffs, hoping to free herself, though she’d been unsuccessful thus far. It wasn’t the first time that night she had tried to look for a weak link in the chains binding her to the cage. She was equally unsuccessful this time too.

  The cage descending had brought her into the midst of the chaos, and she was almost grateful for the bars protecting her from the jostling, shoving crowd as they tried to empty the building. It was quickly obvious darkness alone didn’t account for the panic spreading. Her eyes stung from teargas, and she could hear what she was certain were official shouts from people identifying themselves as the FBI and ordering others to freeze.

  Most were ignoring the order and continuing to try to shove their way out through the door, which was creating a stampede as a mass of buyers tried to fit hundreds of people through an entrance that would only accommodate four at most. It was funny enough to make her giggle for a moment, and she couldn’t deny she relished that these people would be facing the consequences of their actions.

  Abruptly, her cage door swung open, and she looked around, squinting to make out details. There was plenty of light from cell phones, but they were directed in scattershot fashion, often bobbing and flickering as the people holding them ran. She could make out the doors on the nearest cages had opened as well, but none of the people were able to leave. They were just as handcuffed as she was.

 

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