“Did the military make it hard for you to marry an Iraqi woman?” asked Deke.
“They didn’t make it easy. But when I was cashiered with a medical discharge, it smoothed the way. Mona had seen enough of war to never want to be touched by it again, and was delighted when I told her I would be leaving the military.”
“Were you planning on being a lifer?”
Michael nodded. “But I’m not complaining.”
Deke feigned umbrage. “I would hope not. We’re the ones who should be complaining. How are the rest of us mortals ever supposed to compete with that story of how you met the love of your life? Talk about making all of us look bad.”
Much-needed laughter swept through the office. Deke said, “I think you’ve answered your own question about synchronicity. This time, though, don’t feel as if you have to fracture your spine before following your gut, or your heart, or both.”
“But do keep us informed of your movements along the way,” Carol said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Carol turned to Deke. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to engage the services of Miami Maritime Investigations to look into the party boat. They have connections with all the marinas in Florida and beyond, and should be able to get us answers and footage of when the party boat went out, and who was in it, and who was on it when it came back.”
After Deke voiced his agreement, Carol added, “I’d also like to send an undercover team into Viktoria Driscoll’s strip club in Panama City ASAP. If we’re lucky, we’ll find Karina Boyko still alive and working there.”
“If tonight’s ASAP enough for you, I’d like to volunteer,” Michael said. “I know I’m not one of your investigators, but I am Karina’s lawyer.”
“Yes, you are her lawyer.”
Michael responded to Carol’s reproach: “Eglin Air Force Base and Tyndall Air Force Base are both in the area. Strip clubs always target the military as customers, and I still look the part.”
“You’re not going into that strip club by yourself,” Carol said, drawing a line.
“I’ll go with him,” Jake said.
Carol turned to Deke, who offered an almost imperceptible nod. “All right,” she said. “Jake will be in charge tonight. You are both to keep a low profile, and not put yourself in harm’s way. Understood?”
Jake nodded and Michael said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Deke sat back and took the measure of everyone in the office. “Are we good?” Heads nodded. “In that case, carpe diem, all.”
Instead of following Carol and Jake out of the office, Michael stayed seated. “Got time for a quick consult on my civil case?”
“I’m all ears.”
They were ten minutes into their discussion when Deke’s private line buzzed. He looked at the display, saw Carol was calling, and picked up. Her news wasn’t good.
“Dammit,” Deke said, hanging up the phone. “The dead woman has been identified as Karina Boyko.”
Michael cursed under his breath. “I guess this puts the brakes on my civil case.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Karina was my client.”
“Her death doesn’t change that relationship. It alters matters, of course, but there won’t be any abandoning of the case. And we’re not going to wait on getting Karina’s personal information from UCSIS. That could take forever. I’m going to direct Carol to try and contact her family in Ukraine. If we’re lucky, that tattoo of Karina’s, the thing-amajig . . .”
Michael offered up the Ukrainian word: “Vyshyvanka.”
“Right. If its geography proves accurate, that should narrow the search. We’ll use an operative in Ukraine if at all possible. After locating her family, you’ll ask questions of them, such as if Driscoll perpetrated a bait and switch and brought these young women into our country without telling them the illegal nature of the work they would be forced to perform. And though it’s illegal to solicit family members to represent the deceased, don’t be surprised if they bring up that topic. If that happens, your case would morph into not only a civil suit, but a wrongful death suit.”
“That’s all the more reason for me to depose Driscoll as soon as possible.”
“Agreed.”
“So, how do I make that happen?”
“You petition the court for expedited discovery, and make your motion for exigent circumstances. Karina’s death was on Driscoll’s watch. Hammer that point. You’ll need to stress the dangerous work-place angle, and how it was Driscoll’s duty to maintain a safe work environment. Frame your cause of action by asserting that the H2B workers were clearly invited business guests of Driscoll.”
“What’s the best-case scenario for getting expedited discovery?”
Deke’s head wobbled from side to side, as if doing his own scale of justice weighing. “Even with a sympathetic judge, it’s rare to get a fast-track discovery.”
“If I did, what’s the time frame?”
“Ordinarily, you’d be lucky, very lucky, in getting a three-month window.”
“That’s too long.”
“By judicial standards, that’s light speed.”
Michael’s hands were clenched in fists. Deke spoke to his anger. “I know that seems like an unnecessary eternity, but you’re going to need time to prepare for your case. There are a lot of nuances in Florida’s liability laws pertaining to licensees and invitees, and that’s just the start of it. You need to keep your eyes on the prize. The world has turned a blind eye to these victims for too long.”
“I’ll do what I can to change that,” Michael said, standing up to leave.
Deke got to his feet as well. His long sigh didn’t go unnoticed by Michael. “Problem?” he asked.
In a voice that didn’t carry beyond the office, Deke said, “I need to go tell Diana the bad news. They only talked the one time, but Karina has been in her thoughts ever since. I’ve seen Diana studying the notes of their conversation, trying to make sense of everything. This is going to hit her hard.”
XXVIII
Michael waited for his ride in the white zone fronting the Bergman/ Deketomis building. As Jake pulled up with his SUV, Michael could see that he was eyeing him uncertainly. Michael lowered his aviator glasses and nodded. He had changed out of the suit that Jake was used to seeing him in and was wearing faded blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a tight United States Air Force T-shirt with an American flag and the words Fly, Fight, Win.
He climbed into the passenger seat and tossed his workout bag behind him.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jake said.
“Given a choice, this is what I’d be wearing to work.”
“That’s one thing I like about my job. Most days I don’t have to wear suits.”
“I understand you used to be a lawyer,” Michael said.
“Guilty as charged.”
Instead of pressing him on the subject, Michael left it up to Jake to decide whether or not to elaborate. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I was practicing law in West Virginia where I managed to get Deke and the firm involved in what ultimately turned out to be that big opioid multidistrict litigation case in Ohio. Long story short, I released privileged information to the public, which got me disbarred. And I should also mention how I managed to get addicted to opioids while everything was playing out. Anyway, after all was said and done, and since a career change was necessary, Deke offered me a job in legal investigations. I’ve been here for two years.”
“Ever consider a return to practicing law?”
Jake nodded. “My plan had been to petition to have my law license reinstated after a year’s hiatus, but the longer I worked in legal investigations, the clearer it became that I was better suited to doing that.”
“I’ve had my own career doubts of late,” Michael said. “I’m not sure if I have the patience to be a lawyer. Somehow I never envisioned that the best way to take on the enemy was to write a brief. I was envious hearing about your working
undercover.”
“You mean my truck stop assignment?”
When Michael nodded, Jake said, “There’s nothing glamorous or exciting about that work. In fact, that assignment was as hard as anything I’ve ever done. By day I drove a big rig, and at night I worked surveillance at the truck stops. I hope I never have to do anything like that again. Human trafficking is worse than a sewage spill, and if what I witnessed is any indication, it’s becoming ever more prevalent throughout this country.”
“How common is it?”
“I’m not saying that the trafficking is going on at all the truck stops, or even most of them, but it’s not hard to find if you’re looking for it. Many truck stops discourage what truckers call ‘lot lizards,’ but in some places I found management and ownership in cahoots with the traffickers. And I’m not talking about the old arrangement of prostitutes and their pimps, but worse.”
“Worse in what way?”
Jake shook his head and sighed. “The old system had women going from truck to truck looking for johns, and while that’s still practiced, as hard as it is to believe, the sex trade is now even more impersonal. These days you can find traveling bordellos, including trucks with cargo areas that have been set up as sex shacks. The trucks drive in with trafficked women who work the stop, then they drive out. Those women are there to serve one purpose: their entire existence is relegated to that cargo area of the truck, or in some cases to the motels associated with the truck stops.”
“And that goes on out in the open?”
“I think it would be impossible for management to be unaware of what is going on. In fact, that kind of activity seems to be built into many truck stop operations. It is actually part of their business plan for increasing revenues.”
“So, everyone is profiting except the sex worker?”
“Sex worker implies that these women have a choice as to whether to be engaging in sex or not, but the truth of the matter is they don’t have any choice, or any say. They have been coerced, manipulated, and brainwashed. Some don’t speak the language. Some have actually been sold by their families. Some think they’ll be killed, or their loved ones will be if they don’t do as they’re told.”
“I’ll take back what I said about envying your undercover work. How in the hell is this going on here?”
“That’s a good question. But an even better one is: How is it going on out in the open? Deke hopes to go after Welcome Mat’s truck stops and motels by having a forensic accounting done, but so far, the judge doesn’t look inclined to allow that to happen. We suspect there are multiple sets of books, with profits being funneled to the owners in the shadows.”
“As in the mob?”
“Let’s just say if that turns out to be the case, Deke won’t be surprised. And neither will I.”
Even the conversation was depressing, Michael thought. Being forced to confront that misery still weighed on Jake. You could hear it in his voice and sighs.
“Did you have the opportunity to talk to any of the women being trafficked?”
“I had some limited contact, mostly brief conversations with women knocking on my cab after midnight, asking if I wanted to party.”
Michael tried playing devil’s advocate. “Don’t they say prostitution is the oldest profession in the world?”
“Prostitution isn’t the same thing as human trafficking. These women aren’t selling their bodies; their bodies are being sold for them.”
“Mind if I steal that line for my civil case?”
“Please do.”
By unsaid mutual agreement, the two men decided to take a break from their weighty conversation. They rode in companionable silence until Michael said, “Your trucking assignment must have been tough on your wife.”
“It was, but Anna was the one who insisted that I do it. She said if my work helped trafficked women, then it would be worth it.”
“What did she think about tonight’s assignment?”
“She wasn’t thrilled, and I don’t blame her. What about your wife?”
Michael took a moment before answering. “I wasn’t exactly forthcoming. I told Mona that you and I were seeking out background material on my client.”
“That’s all true, sort of.”
“I wanted to come clean, but I was afraid of the fallout,” Michael said.
“You want to do right, but not right now.”
“That pretty much covers it.”
“Lots of women wouldn’t be happy with the idea of their husbands going to a strip club,” Jake said.
“I think Mona would have been okay with that part of it.”
“Really?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying she would be happy with my doing that, but I’m pretty sure the bigger stumbling block for her would be the idea of me putting myself in a potentially dangerous position. Mona is a worrier. After what she experienced, and what happened to her family, she wants me to stay clear of battle.”
“But going to a strip club isn’t like going into battle.”
“That remains to be seen,” Michael said.
Jake laughed at what he thought was a joke.
XXIX
At Michael’s urging, Jake parked a block away from the strip club. The Pussy Cat Palace was several miles north of Panama City’s coastline, situated in an area that was more industrial than commercial. Michael studied the street view of the club and aerial shots of the area. Based on his online recon, he knew that on one side of the Pussy Cat Palace was a parking lot and on the other a dead-end street. At the back of the building there was a service entrance for deliveries. As far as Michael could determine, all human traffic entered and exited through the front doors of the club.
Michael was used to military operations where knowing the lay of the land was essential, but even with the best intelligence you had to expect the unexpected.
Like his suddenly seeing the unmistakable hulking figure of Andrei, one-half of the greeting committee he’d encountered at the Emerald Hideaway, sitting on a stool at the entrance to the strip club.
Abort the mission, thought Michael, or continue? Andrei was already eyeballing the two of them. Michael’s interaction with him at the hotel had been brief, only long enough to hear Andrei offer up a few words. As far as Michael could see, there was no glimmer of recognition in the bouncer’s bored eyes. His main interest seemed to be in appraising the men for concealed weapons; he was far less interested in their faces. Michael was glad he’d worn a suit when he visited the hotel; today’s outfit looked far different.
Brazen it out, he decided, and be the opposite of the haughty lawyer he’d been pretending to be at the hotel. “Hope this guy doesn’t recognize me,” Michael whispered, then slapped Jake on his shoulder. In a loud voice he said, “Cold beer, hot women. Sounds like heaven, don’t it?”
Jake amplified on Michael’s Panhandle patois, offering up his own West Virginia twang: “As close to heaven as the two of us are ever likely to get.”
The bouncer raised one of his meaty hands and motioned them to a stop. “ID,” he said.
“No problem, bro.” Michael kept his face turned to the side while reaching for his wallet.
From inside the club they could hear the chorus of Jessie J, Ariana Grande, and Nicki Minaj singing their song “Bang Bang.” Andrei didn’t offer any small talk and showed no interest in engaging with them other than to look at their licenses. Michael wished they had brought fake IDs.
As he handed back their licenses, Andrei said, “Pay for entrance to club inside.” Then, sounding almost funereal with his thick accent, he insincerely added, “You have good evening.”
“You too, Bela Lugosi,” Jake said, making his speech sound slurred. Michael’s wingman had his back, getting Andrei’s scowl and all of his attention.
The interior of the club was hidden by curtains. Michael suspected that barrier might be in compliance with state or county law so as to keep passersby from seeing any vestige of the “Full Nudity”
advertised on the signage. The two men parted the curtains and stepped inside. The space was air-conditioned, but that didn’t mask the smell of sweat and desperation, scents Michael had encountered too many times in too many places. They passed through a metal detector and were observed by a second man with dark, slicked-back hair who was positioned near the cashier’s booth. Slick looked to be in his early thirties. The blue blazer he was wearing suggested he was the club manager; the bulge in his sport jacket told Michael something else. Slick was carrying.
“Goot even-ning, gen-tull-min.”
The accented woman’s voice was broadcast from the inside of an enclosed cashier’s booth. Jake and Michael turned toward the speaker. The acrylic windows did nothing to hide the fact that the cashier was naked.
Michael swiveled his head all around, apparently looking for someone else in the area. “Gentlemen?” he said to Jake. “She can’t be talking to us.”
Laughing, Jake said, “That’s for damn sure.”
As Michael and Jake approached her window, the cashier pretended to be amused. Her smile was posed and fake. The woman was wearing lots of eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara, but all of that couldn’t camouflage her hard eyes.
“You are members here, yes?” she asked.
“We are members here, no,” Michael said.
“It goot deal. All member get five dollar off each visit. Membership good for year.”
Jake looked the woman up and down. “Never seen—I mean heard— such a good sales pitch.”
Michael said, “Fifty bucks for membership? That’s a rip-off.”
The cashier pretended to pout. “You no like women?”
Jake laughed and slapped his buddy on the shoulder.
“She was talking to you,” Michael told him, then pushed three twenties through the slot, the price of admission for the two of them.
“No tips for tits?” the cashier asked, giving a shake of her chest.
“Now you got my attention, darling,” Jake said.
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