The Temptation

by Cheyenne McCray

  Nick glanced from the screen to me. “I’m up to date on that much.”

  I switched to another screen. “His home in Switzerland was seized and searched and he apparently had personal sex slaves in his home who were rescued. He also had a sex slave operation below his ski lodge and it’s suspected that key public figures indulged in his so-called business venture.”

  With a frown, Nick said, “What else do you have?”

  “We believe we’ve tracked him to Washington, D.C.” I brought up some other files on the monitor. “We can’t be sure, not yet, but that’s what our sources are reporting to us.”

  Nick studied the monitor. “What takes him there?”

  “We believe he has a high-level prostitution ring in the area and is working out of at least one of the major hotels. We’ve narrowed it down to four hotels in D.C.” I tapped my fingers on my desktop. “We’re not sure these women are slaves too, but we’re pretty sure he’s involved. It’s possible that it’s the only thing he has been able to hang on to now that we’ve started to tear down his organization.” I went on, “Fortunately he shouldn’t know the first thing about our agency.”

  Nick gave a thoughtful nod.

  I brought up an image of another man with a list of stats beside him. “This is Hans Johansen.” The blond man was large, powerfully built, and would probably have been considered handsome if not for his deadly looking scowl. “He’s supposed to be one of Bachmann’s personal enforcers.” I looked at Nick. “We learned that much before our informant was apparently disposed of by Bachman’s people, if what you said last night is accurate.”

  “It’s accurate.” Nick’s eyes were intense as he studied the monitor. I knew that Nick was memorizing every detail of the man’s image as well as his stats.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if Johansen was the one who took care of our informant.” I brought up the image of another man with a series of stats next to his picture. “And here we have Eric Dawson.” I studied the man with dark hair, pockmarked face, mustache, and goatee. “He is reported to be one of Bachmann’s key people.”

  “Do you have additional stats on him other than what you have here?” Nick asked.

  I shook my head. “We were only able to get a limited amount of info from our source. He was supposed to be feeding more to us. We believe our informant was fairly high up on the food chain.”

  “Too bad he’s out of the game now,” Nick said with a scowl.

  “Yeah, it is.” Frustrated, I pushed hair out of my face. “Last night I was supposed to get cozy with one of his other key men who happens to be here in the Boston area, but that sure went to hell.”

  Nick met my gaze. “It was a dangerous move.”

  “No more dangerous than any other op I’ve been on.” I frowned at him. “You’re not going to start in on me again, are you? You know I can take care of myself.”

  “Yes, you can, better than most agents I know. ” He studied me. “But sometimes you’re reckless.”

  “I’ve been doing pretty damned fine without you here.” I gritted my teeth before I continued. “And I did fine before you ever started working at RED. How do you think I became a senior agent? By luck? By kissing ass?”

  He placed his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward. “You’re a damned good agent, Steele. But that doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

  “I’m not in the mood to argue with you, Donovan.” I clenched my hands on top of my desk and glared at him. “And I just might deck you if you’re not careful.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked and I knew he’d come close to smiling. It wasn’t easy to get a smile out of him. Every smile that I had managed to get in the past had been hard won.

  “So what exactly are your plans while you’re here?” I leaned back in my chair. “How long are you staying?”

  “As long as it takes to get the job done.” Nick’s expression turned fierce. “Enough time to see that bastard go down and put him in the ground.”

  “We’re supposed to take him alive.” I rocked back in my chair. “But you don’t plan on doing that,” I stated.

  Nick said his next words in a near growl. “If it wasn’t for Bachmann, my sister never would have been sold as a sex slave. I owe the bastard.”

  I gave a slow nod. “I believe you do.”

  “What’s the next step you’ve planned?” Nick asked. “Heading to D.C.?”

  “Yes.” I pushed my hair behind my ear. “We’re getting geared up to move our operation there.”

  My intercom buzzed and I answered it.

  “You are to come to ASAC Oxford’s office at once,” came the voice of Darlene, Oxford’s assistant.

  Darlene always made it clear that she disliked me. Just because I’d made a comment about her Beatles haircut one time didn’t mean anything. I’d only said she reminded me of Ringo back in the early days. Some might consider that a compliment.

  “Be right there,” I said.

  “Is Agent Donovan with you?” Darlene asked, her tone lightening a bit. “She wants to see him as well.”

  “We’re on our way.” I glanced at Nick and he got to his feet.

  We’d been summoned.

  “I wonder what she wants,” I said as I stood. “Maybe it has something to do with Eckstrom.”

  “Could be,” Nick said.

  After we made it out of my office, a man brushed past us. He didn’t acknowledge us but I recognized him. It was Carter, our SAC. I frowned. What was he doing here? In all the time I’d worked for RED I never remembered him actually coming onto our floor. He had to be here due to what had happened to the head of the NSA. It was the only thing that made sense at that moment.

  Nick and I continued on and walked side-by-side to Oxford’s. I was intensely aware of him as we walked. His raw power seemed to cloak me with comfort. I didn’t know why, but something about his presence gave me strength.

  Which was absolutely nuts. I didn’t need Nick Donovan for comfort or strength.

  Darlene showed us into Oxford’s office. She smiled and simpered for Nick then glared at me behind Nick’s back. I gave her a sugary sweet smile.

  Oxford had her back to us and was staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the CC below. Nick and I stood and waited for her to acknowledge us. She turned and nodded to the two chairs and we sat.

  I owed Oxford my life after she saved me from the trap I’d been in by being forced to be an assassin for FAS—the acronym for my pet name for the Fucking Asshole Sonsofbitches who had ruled my life. FAS had “recruited me” after I was discharged from the Army where I’d been one of the first women in Special Forces and one of their top snipers. An operation had gone down bad and I’d been blamed.

  And then FAS came along and threatened my family if I didn’t work as an assassin for them. They’d broken me.

  If it wasn’t for Oxford and RED, I don’t know what would have happened to me.

  She wasn’t exactly a beautiful woman but she was attractive. Her skin was like brown silk and she had dark eyes that felt like they could pierce right through you if she wasn’t happy about something. Fine lines fanned from the corners of her eyes but she looked as if she was only in her low forties when she was actually in her early fifties. She was fit and athletic and no matter how tough I was, she would definitely have been a challenge to spar with.

  Oxford looked from me to Nick then returned her gaze to me. “We’re shutting down Operation Big Bad Wolf.”

  My skin pricked with fire as I stared at her, not believing what she’d just said. “Are you telling us you’re killing the Bachmann case?” I said slowly.

  Oxford looked calm. “That’s precisely what I am saying.”

  “You can’t do that.” I lost all pretense of control and I stood. “That sonofabitch is an evil man who needs to be stopped. He’s murdered, sold women into slavery, and who knows what else.”

  “Sit down, Agent Steele.” Oxford’s tone was sharp.

  I sat but barely. I gripped
the chair arms to keep from flying to my feet again. Karen Oxford deserved my respect even though right now I could barely control myself from reacting even more to her bombshell.

  From my peripheral vision I saw Nick’s fury in his eyes, but he didn’t lose control the same way I had.

  I counted to five in my head. “What’s going on? I don’t understand. Does it have anything to do with Eckstrom’s death?”

  “As far as I know it is not related to his death.” Oxford looked to Nick whose hands were balled into fists. “I don’t like it any better than the two of you,” she said as she turned back to me. “But the order came from above and I have no choice but to follow the instructions given to me. It’s my job.”

  For the first time ever, I thought I saw a flash of anger in Oxford’s face, but then it was gone. She was the most composed person I had ever met and I’d never seen her crack over anything. The fact that this affected her, too, caused me to falter.

  “Can you explain why?” Nick said, his voice tight.

  “No.” Oxford’s expression was cool now. She folded her hands on her desktop. “You are to go to your team and stop all activity relating to the operation.” She eyed each one of us. “Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I said through thinned lips. Nick said nothing.

  “You may go.” She gave a nod, dismissing us. “Shut the door behind you.”

  Nick and I got to our feet. With one last look at Oxford, I turned away. I wanted to slam the door but I would never disrespect Oxford in that way, so I closed it carefully.

  What we’d just been told wasn’t entirely sinking in.

  Nick and I made it into my office and he did slam the door behind us. “What the fuck?”

  My sentiments exactly.

  “This doesn’t make a damned bit of sense.” I realized I was shaking from anger.

  Nick walked to my punching bag and started hitting it over and over. I walked to him and held the bag and felt the power he put into each punch. That was exactly what I wanted to be doing. Pummeling the crap out of something. Anything.

  Mostly Bachmann.

  “Do you think another agency is after him and they don’t want us to interfere with their investigation?” I asked Nick as he hit the bag.

  He growled as he hit the bag again. “I believe there’s more to the story than Oxford is telling us. Maybe more than she knows.”

  I nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  Chapter 7

  Gone

  Anger still caused me to shake and I didn’t want to stay at RED, so I headed home early after notifying my team. The news had not gone over well with anyone. I wasn’t the only one who despised Bachmann and everything he stood for.

  Had the order to back off from the operation come from Eckstrom before his death? If not, from whom? Carter?

  I had to work off some steam—if that was possible considering the circumstances.

  When I reached the yellow trip, I saw that my sister’s car was parked along the street. My sister rarely stopped by, so I wondered what was up.

  After I parked my Jeep, I jogged up the stairs to the second floor and found Rori sitting beside my door. Her face was tearstained and fear shot through my chest like an arrow.

  “What’s wrong?” Panic made me pull her up too fast when I held out my hand to help her to her feet. She teetered but I took her by her shoulders and balanced her. “Is it Mama? Is she all right?”

  “Mama’s fine.” Rori sniffled. “Everyone is fine.”

  Relief flooded me. “Then what’s wrong?”

  Rori shrugged. “Can we go inside?”

  “Oh. Right.” I dug the keys out of my pocket, careful not to move my shirt aside so that Rori wouldn’t see my Glock.

  I unlocked the door and held it open and she walked to the couch and plopped down on it while I closed the door behind us. She looked as pretty and feminine as always in slim navy shorts and a fuchsia pink blouse with gold sandals and pink toenail polish.

  Rori had a gymnast’s build and used to compete when she was young and petite, before she’d had a growth spurt. She wore makeup and had long acrylic nails with a French manicure, both of which I avoided wearing unless I needed to when undercover. Her mascara was a little smudged which wasn’t like her at all.

  “So tell me what happened.” I went to the couch and sat on the edge of the seat feeling like I needed to run. My younger sister rarely—if ever—confided in me. I wasn’t the easiest person to talk to considering I shut off my own feelings deep inside.

  “I’m sorry, Lex.” Rori sniffled and looked down at her hands. “I didn’t know who to talk to about this. I’m embarrassed and hurt, and I don’t know what to do.”

  I scooted closer to her and put my hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

  She dragged her gaze up and her green eyes met mine. “My boyfriend forced me to do things last night that I didn’t want to do.”

  My scalp prickled. My first reaction was to find him and kill him. I tried to keep calm. “He raped you?”

  “I don’t know if you can call it rape.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “We’ve had sex before and it was, well, normal.”

  I frowned. I’d faced too many cases where women were molested and to think that my sister had been assaulted this way made me want to tear someone apart.

  “Tell me what he made you do.” I put my hand on hers where she was picking at a loose thread on her skirt.

  “We were in my bedroom and I was naked. He gave me a drink and I got a little lightheaded and dizzy.” Rori’s eyes filled with tears. “Then he brought in another woman. I guess she’d been waiting outside.”

  My skin began to burn. “He drugged you then forced you to have sex with another woman?”

  Rori nodded.

  I took a deep breath and let it out on a slow exhale. She flinched and I realized I was squeezing her hand too tightly. I relaxed my grip. “What’s his name? Where does he live?”

  “Richard Travis,” she said. “But he’s gone. He’s a pilot and was headed for Honolulu this morning.”

  “We need to go to the police.” I let go of her hand and stood. “That was rape.”

  “I don’t want Evan to know.” She stood, too. “Since he’s with BPD he’d find out. I don’t want him or any of our brothers going off half-cocked and trying to take care of this themselves.”

  What she didn’t realize was that I was just as likely to take care of this myself as they were.

  “Besides,” she continued. “I’m embarrassed.”

  I took her by the shoulders. “You have no reason to be embarrassed. A man took advantage of you and forced you to do things against your will. What you need to be is pissed.”

  Although I was doing a pretty good job of being pissed enough for both of us.

  “I—I.” She swallowed. “I want to think about it first, okay?”

  I hugged her and felt her hot tears on my neck.

  Every tear she cried was like a hammer to my heart. Rori and I might not have been close, but she was my little sister and I loved her. I would do anything to protect her. If I had to fly out to Honolulu to find Richard Travis, I would. I was going to hurt that sonofabitch.

  I drew back and looked into her eyes. “When will he return?”

  “He should be back Friday.” She sniffled again.

  Time enough for me to plan his demise.

  “I don’t want to go home, Lexi,” she said. “That’s where he brought that woman. I don’t think I can sleep in my bed again.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.” I guided her back to the couch and made her sit. I sat, too, and brushed her hair behind her ear. “You can sleep in my bed.”

  “The couch is fine.” She managed a smile. “Later I’ll go bed shopping. I needed a new frame and mattress anyway.”

  I gave her a smile at her attempt to make things light. I didn’t want to smile, but I knew it wou
ld make her feel better. No, instead of smiling I wanted to take my Glock and blow off the guy’s genitals.

  So much anger and frustration had built up inside me that I needed to find a way to vent it. First having to shut down the Bachmann op and now my sister being put through a horror of her own.

  “I’m going for a run,” I said after I’d given her some Mountain Dew and pecan sandies, the perfect comfort food. “Need anything before I go?”

  She shook her head. “I appreciate you letting me hang out here for a little while.”

  “That’s what sisters are for.”

  I put on shorts, a T-shirt, and my jogging shoes, along with a pack around my waist that I used to carry my keys along with my work and personal cell phones. I’d put my Glock in a safe place that only I knew about.

  When I was dressed, I tied up the bag of garbage from the kitchen trashcan and carried it to the front door.

  “I’ll see you when I get back,” I said.

  She gave me a small smile as she lay down on the couch and put her head on a pillow. “Have fun.”

  I gave her a little wave before I carried the trash downstairs and went out the back to get rid of it before my jog.

  Clouds hung low in the sky and it looked like we were in for some rain. The air smelled clean and the summer breeze cooled my skin.

  My mind whirred as I jogged. I thought about the horrendous things that Bachmann had done. How he had arranged for young women to be taken from Russia under the pretense of winning modeling contracts then forced into sex slavery once they arrived. The young women from China who’d also been shipped to New York City, told they would have legitimate jobs, only to find themselves sex slaves.

  And how he had organized a ring for young American women as well. More anger burned through me as I thought about how Bachmann was responsible for the local ring where Nick’s sister had been abducted from a nightclub and sold to the highest bidder.

  My anger ramped up instead of dissipating and I clenched my jaw. How could they take us off the case? Perhaps they had brought in another organization like the FBI or NSA. But that didn’t make sense. The case was RED’s. We’d been putting a huge part of our manpower into locating and taking down Bachmann and his organization. Why would they pull the plug?