by Talon P. S.
But once they were both loaded up in the limo Amelia’s calm nonchalant demure changed when Piper informed her that Trenton had given him orders to bring her to his office on urgent concerns.
Katianna had never been to Trenton’s office. She never really thought much about it, an office was an office, but when Piper brought them around the front of the complex she had to redefine that. It wasn’t just an office but a rather large complex. A raised building of modern architecture, an extraordinary artwork of dark glass and arched beams. Katianna stood outside staring at it for the longest. It really had to of been designed by an artist because the more she stared, the more she got the feeling the building was intended to mimic the silhouette of a women’s body. Okay she was really starting to over define things now and she was getting on her own nerves with it. Stupid writers.
A large section of glass walls made up the show room of armored vehicles all part of Scriven’s Armored Transportation. The remainder of the upper building was the office space the men shared. All positioned over the garage were Marcus kept the armored service vehicles provide by his company. In the back, level with the garage was another large attached section, above it the sign read: New Hyde Park Gun Shop and Shooting Range. Diesel Gentry’s business, another one of the brothers.
Over the years, Katianna had learned that the brothers weren’t actually brothers, but rather they had all served together in the Marines. Together they formed a Special Forces unit—a recon sniper group. During that time they formed such a tight bond they became known as the Dominion of Brothers and it stuck.
Only Diesel and Trenton had known each other longer.
Piper led Amelia in, Katianna following in tow finding some delight to the insight of Trenton’s world. The modern interior design, the furnishings inside all gave deepening definition to the man she watched and desired, but had hardly known over the last four years.
Everything about the place, every accent was about lines, definitions and contrast. There were no muted colors, or blends. It was not a cozy atmosphere, but rather clean and striking, just like the man.
“Miss Dumas, if you please ma’am wait over d’ere.” Piper pointed to the waiting area of sofas in the airy open corner of the front then led Amelia past the receptionist as she called over the comm letting Trenton know they had arrived, and went into his office.
“Thanks for coming in Amelia.” Trenton spoke as he moved a stack of folders off his desk to the floor at his feet. He gestured a hand to the chair in front of his desk.
“I had no choice you commandeered my driver.” Amelia rolled her lips attempting to contain the persnickety mood she was in, taking a side saddle posture in the chair. She rested on an elbow but her hands clutched around her purse like it was some tension release ball.
“I apologize for that, but it was necessary.” Trenton stayed all business. Amelia liked to be in charge, but right now he needed to be and his apology would only go so far.
“Then perhaps you need to just skip ahead and explain why.” Amelia was annoyed yes, but she too was all business and was waiting for the reasoning behind his actions.
“What can you tell me about your relations with Nikolai Kirshnov?”
Amelia was instantly tapping a long fingernail on her purse, deciding whether she wanted to go down this road with Trenton or not. There were heavy implications here, several of which she considered a violation of company/client policy, but still he would not ask if he didn’t feel there was need for concern.
“He said my firm handles his accounts—European annuities I believe. He was casually introducing himself to say hello.”
“Is he?” Trenton eyed her carefully, “A client?”
“I don’t know really. I don’t handle client accounts personally. I’d have to check.”
“Perhaps you should.” And she heard the warning tone in it.
“You’re venturing dangerously close to over stepping your bounds as to how much of my life and business you’re privileged to monitor.
“There is nothing casual about Nikolai Kirshnov.” Trenton intervened, “The man is Czechoslovakian Mafia. And when it comes to protecting my clients, there are no bounds as to how far I will go when certain people I deem as red flags are making appearances. Not only am I going to take notice, but I want to know why.”
Trenton and Amelia spent more than an hour fussing over whether Kirshnov was a threat or not. She especially took offense when he requested to see Kirshnov’s accounts with her company. Regardless of a man’s reputation, that was client confidentiality and she had no intentions of breaking protocol, but Trenton did manage to convince her to investigate Kirshnov’s accounts herself and perhaps if she saw something suspicious then maybe she would come talk to him again.
Amelia glanced at her watch, she was going to be late if they did not conclude this now. “I need to go. You have kept me from my schedule long enough. Perhaps you can see Katianna home as well.” She got up from her seat and smoothed her suit down, “Now that you’ve eaten up a good portion of my day.”
Trenton ignored the bitter tones from her, he was used to them. Amelia hated being put off schedule. “I will see her home.” That was something he never minded doing.
Katianna watched Amelia leave—walking in a huff, barely even glancing her way as she passed her with Piper tight on her heels.
Remember back when you were a kid—maybe a teenager and you got called up to the principal’s office only to find that half your friends had also been called up? And you’re all just sitting in the administration lobby waiting. Exchanging shrugs to each other, but not really talking as you wait for your name to be called—when it will be your turn to undergo the interrogation to find out who actually did pull the prank and strapped the dildo to the bronze statue of the city’s founder and then dressed it up in drag. —Do you remember that day? —
Well it kinda felt like that, when she looked up and saw Trenton standing at the end of the hall, waving her to come on back.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of your shoes.” Trenton glanced over her, as Katianna walked past him.
You think? Her eyes must have bugged out when she turned to face him. She blinked and fought to tamp down the nervousness she felt. She could blame it on nothing more than an over active imagination—after all she’d gone and done it to herself. Stupid Writers.
“Relax, Its probably nothing, but I want to be certain.” With a statement like that Katianna was fighting the urge to gawk at him. Okay so maybe there was something more then what she was making up.
“What’s probably nothing?” She’d already walked blindly into danger once before, four years ago. If there was some way to see it coming this time that would be helpful.
Trenton waved her to have a seat then dropped down in the black leather high back chair behind the desk. “Kat, the man who introduced himself as Kirshnov, have you ever seen him before?”
See—she knew there was something to those beady eyes, but she shook her head.
But Trenton noted the tension in her shoulders matching with the paling expression. “Have you noticed anyone following you lately?”
“Other than your men?”
He stifled his chuckle, “Yes other then my men.” He was resting back in an almost lazy posture. Odd since he was suppose to be interrogating her. His hands came up touching his fingers tips to each other and he swiveled back and forth in the chair, watching her intently. Part concern, focusing as he talked with her about the man who had approached them at lunch and some part seemed to just enjoy looking at her. As if he was capable of separating the two experiences and still enjoy one while tending to the other.
Again she shook her head.
“Is there anything about his approach you could tell me? Something that made it seem like more than just saying hello to Amelia?”
Katianna’s eyes flickered away nervously, she almost felt like one of those witnesses when you get too scared to testify.
Answer th
e question witness—did you see—the butler, with the candlestick in the laboratory?
She dropped her head and stared at her hands in her lap. “He kept looking at me. Even when he was talking to Amelia.” Her head snapped up suddenly, “I’m not racist or anything I don’t care that he talked like he was Russian or something like it, but he made me nervous—” but then most people did and most situations too.
But once she said it, she half wished she could take it back. A man should not be accused of anything when it came to her testimony. She let out a heavy sigh and glanced at Trenton again, “He didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything to even suggest his intention was anything but being social. I just—” she glanced off again, her brow furrowed. And Trenton could see she was scared, that somehow she had gotten herself worked up. But he knew Kirshnov, even if he hadn’t done anything yet, it was only a matter of time. He wasn’t the social type. He didn’t say hello unless he wanted something from you.
Trenton reached over his desk hitting the comm call on the phone.
“Yes?”
“Stef can you get one of the tracker chips and bring that in for me. One for a phone.” The comm disconnected and he looked back at Katianna, “Can I see your phone?”
Katianna fished out her PDA phone and slid it over to him on his desk. Trenton bit back the comment that would have referred to her phone as a dinosaur, but it didn’t stop the smile that came over him, “I don’t suppose you’ve been shopping to upgrade lately?” He asked half hoping it was just something she hadn’t gotten around to doing yet.
“It doesn’t ring often enough to worry—so no.” She shrugged.
He rolled his lips in while he popped the back off and pulled the battery out. The phone was five years old with the older memory chips that took up the small space between the phone mechanism and the battery, too old for what he wanted it to do. He pulled the memory chip out to make room so he could install the tracker chip.
“What are you doing? I need that!” Katianna was jumping back up, trying to snatch her phone from him.
Trenton held the phone out of her reach, “I will order you a new phone. I can have it ready for you by next week and I’ll be sure to have everything loaded into the new phone.”
“Just like that you decide I have to do without the memory card on my phone?”
He held up a finger commanding her to stay put, “Having a way to track you if something were to happen is far more important than a long list of phone numbers or photos, Katianna.” He tried not to sound too pompous.
“It's not phone numbers or pictures. That’s my synopsis lists!” She snapped at him hotly, suddenly furious that he would make such a presumptuous comment.
Trenton backed off on his self righteous grounds to overrule her, he knew well enough what her writing tools meant to her. “How about I promise to have the new phone delivered out to the house first thing tomorrow. Can you make it one night without the data resource on your phone? Just for one day, Katianna? Please.” He glanced at her. “For my sake, so I can have some confidence that I can protect you.” He couldn’t bear it if something ever happened to her again and he hoped she would not push him to enforce his decision.
Memory card or no he wasn’t about to leave her to risk. He could see her reluctance, but as he waited silently she finally slumped back into her chair surrendering compliance. More or less knowing he wasn’t really going to give her much of a choice.
Trenton had to remind himself that Katianna had few things, even after four years she had kept her life simple, her tools for her writing were her most valued items and he was taking one of them away. Even for a day was enough for her to fret over, so he made a mental note to make sure he delivered on his promise to have the new phone delivered the next afternoon with all her data plus a few additions like twenty different ways to get in touch with him—his cell, his office, the truck, the club, his house and all his brothers, the precinct and other various emergency numbers. Along with internet services with apps for nearly every online dictionary, thesaurus and Wikipedia reference source she could imagine. He would do that for her compliance. For her
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Trenton had one of his men take Katianna home. While he would preferred to have done so himself to enjoy the time with her, he had too much on his desk to walk away from, that and he wanted to know what Kirshnov was up to.
He buried himself in the task of reviewing the bidder applications for the upcoming auction, but when he pulled open the next folder and discovered a request form from none other than Vedoucí, Nikolai Kirshnov, all his previous concerns flooded back at him and doubled. There was trouble on the horizon.
A few years back Kirshnov had all, but disappeared from the New York area, but growing suspicions suggested he was back in operations when the bodies of women began to show up at random—beaten to death during the abuse they had suffered.
Trenton managed to get Harper poking his nose around down at the precinct on the case, under the jib to assure himself it wasn’t his perp, but the info Harper brought back was certain the girls had undergone multiple lacerations from canes and other items not considered acceptable. Wrists and ankles had been bound, throats choked, mouths gagged and they had been sexually penetrated with a number of alien objects. Trenton’s stomach wretched as he read the reports Harper brought to him. Five girls in just eight months and it had come to no surprise when Detective Tate Marshal finally paid him and Dane a visit to ask a whirlwind of questions.
Trenton assured Marshal this was not bdsm, this was pure madness and evil, such behavior was never tolerated. In the proper world of B&D it was art and it held a lot of rules of restraint and care.
And it was why it pissed him off something terrible when he saw Kirshnov’s application come in. No way was he going to let the son of a bitch be allowed to bid on any of the Slaves at his auction. Kirshnov had to of known his application would be rejected and all the more reason to go on red alert when the man showed up talking with Amelia and Katianna.
Trenton could feel the rage choking in his veins, like that feeling he would get just before being sent out for a black ops mission. Antsy to the point of being nauseous and trigger happy.
Trenton pushed off from his desk and headed down the hall towards the back door that would take him to the gun range. He just couldn’t sit idle at his desk a second longer; he needed to expel some energy.
“Hey where you going?” He heard Marcus call out for him as he passed the door to his office.
Trenton ground to a halt and backed up a few steps and poked his head in. “Shoot off a few rounds.”
“Dane just called said he was on his way over to help you finish off those apps before you left for Paris. And wanted to go over the security for the event.”
Trenton thumbed his nose then scratched at his head. “I gotta shoot something, I’m gonna crawl out of my skin if I don’t—just send him back will ya?”
Marcus gave him a nod, but tapped his desk with the pen held in his fingers, “You want me to switch out Amelia’s limo with one of the SUV’s? Put some extra steel around her?”
Trenton shook his head with a grudging expression, “She won’t go for it. She likes the armored Lexus. No way you’ll get her in one of the Excursions not even one of the Cadies.”
Marcus shifted back in his desk chair, turning more thoughtful on the matter, but was distracted when his phone rang, “Go ahead, I’ll send Dane your way when he gets in.”
Trenton continued off through the back doors that put him out on the stairs that lead down to the gun shop below. He spotted Diesel up front at the counter and went down to join him. Stepping behind the counter, Trenton helped himself to access one of the cabinets and pulled out two laser gun mounts that they used for the virtual programs.
“Hey Bro—I was half expecting you’d pay a visit today.”
“Yeah—” Trenton scrubbed his face with his hand then pulled one of the gun drawers from the back wall out to ey
e the choices. He was in the mood for something heavy in his hand. He ended up with the Dragon Mark large caliber 357 and a Tavor submachine gun. “Say you got time to start up the gauntlet room?” Trenton asked over his shoulder while he started fitting the laser receptors to the two guns he’d selected.
“Yeah? You wanna do—can’t see shit—or—all hell’s breakin’ loose?”
“Just the can’t see shit program, I don’t need to get myself worked up more than I already am.”
“You got it. Let me get this guy rung up here and I’ll have it up for you by the time you get back there and into position.” Diesel shot a glance over his shoulder as Trenton took off down the hall, noticing he didn’t take the night goggles with him. “Hey you forgot the night vision!” He called out for him.
“Not using it!” He heard Trenton shout back.
Diesel shook his head “Don’t wanna get worked up… my ass.” He mumbled as he rang up the purchase for the man at the counter, “That’ll be three-twenty and thirty five cents.” He shifted his attention to the computer monitor on the counter and pulled up the icon for the training room while his customer was fiddling with his credit card, “Yeah just sign the pad and we’re done.” His right hand tapped an accept icon on his register computer screen then pushing the gun purchase in its box over to its new owner while his left hand started up a program software on the computer. “Give me a shout when you got some time to come in and shoot a few rounds with that, Bob.”
“Sure will Diesel. Thanks. Have a good one.” The man tipped a farewell at him then headed out.
No sooner that Diesel had the training program started up and the review monitors up on the screens, Dane was coming down the steps. “Hey Deez, Marcus said Trenton was back here.”