But time had taught her not to rush to judgment. It would be a miracle if being boring was his worst fault. Athena searched for him online. His name was unusual, which she hoped would narrow the results.
Only one Beauregard Boudreau seemed to have a connection to the FBI. The same picture she’d just seen had been published in a news article in a Fargo, North Dakota newspaper. Boudreau had arrested a farmer for beating his fifteen-year-old daughter with a rubber hose.
That counted in Boudreau’s favor, but why would the FBI send somebody all the way from North Dakota? There had to be some Feeb closer who could break free from his current projects for a few days.
Then she remembered Costello’s sarcastic comment about the agency, in its infinite wisdom. They had a reason for sending Boudreau. She prayed that they were acting in good faith, but she feared they were sending the worst agent they could find.
-o-o-o-
Misha’s La Plata County Compound
At six a.m., Jackie Humphrey watched as one of the guards followed the normal routine and brought the food the women would need to make their own breakfasts. But this late in her pregnancy, eating hardly interested her.
As usual, the preggers and nurses had been locked in the dorm at nine p.m. and God help them if a fire started.
Gordo drove the breakfast fixings over in a small trailer he pulled behind an ATV. Most of the sex slaves walked behind him because apparently, the girls were cute enough to fuck, but the bastards in the house weren’t going to share their fancy breakfast with any females.
While the women were preparing their breakfasts, Gordo conducted the morning roll call. And he’d hang around the dorm until relieved in the afternoon.
At the same time, Jackie spotted a second guard walking the perimeter, keeping an eye out for external security threats. The compound was so far back in the forest that only a few folks drove down the county road in front of the property. The security fence on that side of the compound was covered with black fabric to block any views from the road.
On the plus side, the food was all organic, no junk or sweets. That wasn’t because Misha cared about the women. He did it for the sake of the babies. The preggers could eat as much as they wanted at meals, and in fact, they had to gain a certain amount of weight every week. If they missed their targets, or if they committed most other sins, they’d be smacked on the side of the head with one of the fencing foils the guards carried along with their pistols.
Jackie winced as she remembered first getting whacked by a foil. That had happened almost nine months ago, shortly after her embryo had been implanted. The flexible steel blade was square, not round, and one corner had cut deep into the skin on the side of her head. Misha’s blow drew blood and hurt like a bitch. She’d never missed weight again, but her anger at him burned. And she bided her time.
Before eating, several women came over to Jackie and asked how she was feeling. She gave them each a hug and told them she was fine. Which was mostly true. Her main problem was the heartburn she felt from Misha’s beady stare. He’d wanted to punish her right then. She’d seen that as clear as day. As soon as she gave birth, he’d follow through. But there wasn’t much she could do about it except worry.
The women making breakfast worked quickly, and most of the others crowded around the kitchen. Gordo, too. The smell of sizzling bacon and hash browns filled the air, and the women chatted with each other freely, seemingly ignoring the asshole.
For the first time, it struck Jackie as bizarre that Gordo showed no fear despite being crowded on all sides by forty hostile females. Each would’ve enjoyed the chance to slice his throat wide open if they could’ve gotten away with it. And only a few feet away from him, two cooks sliced and diced with sharp knives.
But he seemed oblivious to any danger.
One reason was probably that several cameras in the dorm saw everything. Misha had even installed cameras in the bathrooms. Perverts.
As long as Gordo was close, the women carefully hid their true feelings. Jackie fought a smile and considered the possibility of overwhelming him. At some point, she’d need to talk to the other members of the rescue committee about the idea.
In the meantime, Gordo shoved his way through the throng and grabbed a couple of pieces of bacon from a pile on a plate. No one dared stop him, or even to criticize him, but they didn’t make it easy for him either. Selfish bastard.
Chapter 5
Athena’s Apartment, Durango
She dressed carefully. Boudreau needed to take this case seriously, and it might help if he thought she was a serious person. In addition to wearing a business suit, she put on a Fedora. Not for style’s sake but because it would hide the small scar on her forehead and the much bigger bald spot near her right ear. The entry wound had been small, but the bullet had torn out a chunk of her skull as it exited. A few lead fragments were still inside her head, poisoning her blood. That was the least of her worries.
Durango’s airport was small and easy to navigate. In case the plane arrived early, Athena stood outside the security area well before the announced arrival time.
Boudreau’s jet arrived on time. He walked past the security checkpoint with a group of other people. He was short, only about five-six. That was a good five inches shorter than Athena, but she envied how gracefully he strolled along, chatting with an older woman. While not particularly handsome, an easy smile graced his face. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
Behind him, he dragged along a large, wheeled suitcase. Didn’t seem to notice her at first then stopped suddenly. With a thick Cajun accent, he said, “Christina Nielsen? Sorry, didn’t expect you here. Dey told me you were…uh…feelin’ poorly.”
Actually, they’d probably told him she was a lunatic. “I’ve never felt better. Pleasure to meet you, Special Agent Boudreau.”
They shook hands. His grip was firm without being overpowering.
With his lazy, melodic voice, he said, “You jus’ call me Beau. I hardly know that Beauregard fella.”
He ignored her awkward stride and her cane as he chatted about his flight, and a question arose in her mind. How had this mellow Southerner managed to get a job with the Bureau? Every other agent she knew was always on edge, like any little mistake could end their career—or get them sent to Fargo. Maybe that was her answer. Which led her to wonder what had Boudreau’s sin been?
As they left the small terminal, he finished a funny story about a cat as an emotional support animal on the plane. When he took a deep breath, she asked, “How’d you end up in North Dakota?”
He grimaced. “Got crossways with the Special Agent in charge in New Orlinz…just before he retired last Christmas. Sent me to the frozen north. Holy Mary, that was a torment!”
“What pissed him off?”
Beau shrugged, but she was sure he knew. Didn’t want to talk about it, which was fine. She had plenty of her own shit that she didn’t want to talk about either.
-o-o-o-
Athena waited for him to grab his rental SUV, then he followed her pickup to the motel where he’d be staying. When he spoke to the desk clerk, his accent vanished. The man sounded like he’d lived in southwestern Colorado for his whole life.
While he dropped his bag off in his room, she asked, “How did you do that? Change your voice so easily?”
He grinned and reverted to the Cajun drawl. “Me? Got an ear for dialec’. But dis here, dats da real me. You gettin’ it okay?”
“Mostly,” she said.
He gave her a thumbs up. “Danks for tryin’. I dial it back, me.”
The Bureau had sent her a nut. Talk about passive-aggressive. They’d covered their asses and gotten even with her at the same time.
But she’d do her best to put up with Beau. He carried a gun and a badge, and the feds must’ve trained him some. Hopefully, the two of them working together would get the job done.
She led Beau to her apartment to show him her re
search. Once they settled in there, she explained how she’d gotten caught up in the mayhem.
He listened without comment, except that he laughed a couple of times. Always at the scariest parts.
Finally, she snapped, “Not funny, dude.”
He sighed. “Mais si. You get shot at enough, chère, and it either becomes funny, or you get beaucoup crazy. I’ve been on the wrong end of a gun too many times to count, mostly thanks to the fuckin’ Taliban. Only got hit twice and lived to put both those guys down. Now, that’s funny.”
He’s beaucoup crazy. Athena pushed down her frustration. At least, he seemed to have a pair of stones. “Whatever, Cajun dude. I was thinking, maybe we could check out some of the properties I spotted on Google Earth.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, how about you sit this one out, Chris? You’re right, you weren’t cut out for this shit. I been with the Bureau seven years. Know most of the dance steps by now. And I’ll take that index card as evidence.”
She gave it to him, and he sealed it in an evidence bag.
Twenty-four hours ago, his take-charge attitude would’ve been most welcome. But she was too deep into this case to abandon it, had even met one of the victims. Plus, he might be all talk.
“Beau, I’m sure I can help. Don’t worry, you get to do all the shooting, chasing, kicking and gouging. But I know this area. Won’t get in your way.”
He looked her up and down, and particularly up. She was taller, after all. “If that’s how you roll, chère, fine, but the Bureau is likely to get annoyed at me if I endanger a civilian.”
“Got it, and if a situation gets dicey, how about, we both leave. That’s a compromise.”
He nodded and pointed at her pistol under her jacket. “Keep the shoulder piece, just in case.”
Athena grinned. If anybody took a shot at her, they’d better make the first one count. She visited a shooting range every week to keep her aim true. “Can’t be too careful. You know I’m in witness protection, right?”
“So, they told me, but naturally, no details. Your buddy Costello says it’s a miracle you’re alive.”
“I could say the same about that asshole.”
-o-o-o-
Misha’s La Plata County Compound
After breakfast, Misha dreamed up more ways to hurt Jackie. Nobody disrespected him and got away with it. His favorite idea was slicing long gashes in her naked body. That would spill plenty of blood, and the Dobermans would be delighted to rip her to shreds.
But that lovely mental image vanished when Hugo Langer called on the encrypted line. The New York tycoon had created what he called the Über-Baby Project, and every few days, he checked on its progress.
Although Misha knew the old asshole couldn’t see him, he sat erect at his desk anyway. “Mr. Langer, sir, what a pleasure.”
“How are you, Misha? My thoughts turn so often to you and our little experiment. Is it still going well?”
“We’re still doing fantastic, sir. All of the women are healthy and happy, at least as happy as moody hens can be. And every baby in the womb is in excellent condition. I hope the first two deliveries met your expectations?”
The big boss had carefully avoided mentioning them, and it’d been weeks since the first baby had left the compound. Misha couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.
“Beyond all my hopes,” Langer said.
Relief flooded through Misha. The boss could be incredibly vindictive when he got angry.
“You are doing a marvelous job,” the billionaire continued. “To show my gratitude, I added an extra fifty grand to my latest payment.”
That comment made Misha’s skin crawl. Langer never paid a dime more than he was forced to. He wanted something. “Thank you, sir. Completely unnecessary, but thank you.”
“No, no, you deserve it.” The old con artist paused for a moment. “But there is a special favor you might grant me if you find the time. No obligation, of course.”
Every nerve in Misha’s body fired with fear. Fifty grand meant the favor was going to be a whopper. “Anything, of course, Mr. Langer, sir.”
“Thank you. It’s such a pleasure to do business with you. Always so helpful.” He paused, probably to make Misha worry even more. “Our little experiment has garnered extraordinary interest. I’ve been overwhelmed with potential customers. So much so that I’m forced to accelerate our production schedule. Instead of you staying in Colorado for another year as we discussed, I’d like to move you and your operation to the new compound much sooner. In fact, it’s almost finished and will accommodate three times as many surrogates as you have now. I’m confident we can accomplish the move by the end of the year. I’ll provide the extra surrogates by then.”
Misha’s mind dimmed for a moment from the shock. Tripling their size over two and a half months? Insane. But how could he say so without literally losing his head? “Are you sure that’s wise, sir? Relocating will be quite difficult by itself, even if we don’t increase our number of guests.”
“Be bold! I have ten teams of searchers already collecting the best candidates. The simple truth is, Misha, your first two deliveries have been received like young gods descended from the heavens. We could sell a thousand next year—if we could ramp up production quickly enough. And to reward you for your extraordinary effort, I’m willing to increase your pay for each successful delivery, up an extra twenty-five percent!”
The numbers Langer threw around were incredible. He had to be selling each kid for at least a million bucks. What the hell made them so valuable? The two babies Misha had already delivered had seemed completely ordinary. Langer was offering a chance at incredible wealth.
Misha caught himself. The risk was too great. Meeting Langer’s schedule would be impossible. But the old bastard despised the word no.
Misha did a quick mental calculation. “Sir, I would welcome the chance to grow our business, but you know quite well that all startups experience considerable hiccups when scaling up. How about we agree on a bonus of fifteen thousand dollars for every new pregger who successfully enters the program by New Year’s, but no specified target number?”
Langer stayed silent for a moment. Misha wondered if he’d pissed the guy off. He tended to either flatter people or to lop their heads off. No middle ground.
Finally, the bastard sighed.
Misha’s heart stopped.
“As you wish, Misha. Take as many surrogates as you can. The team leaders will contact you today to coordinate their deliveries. How quickly can you be ready to move to the new compound?”
Misha hadn’t imagined that it would be necessary until next fall. So much to do, but Langer’s sigh had frozen Misha’s heart. If necessary, they could leave most of their stuff behind. “We could leave today, sir, but I expect another stork delivery within a few days. I know how important it is to maintain a pregger’s normal routine immediately before she goes into labor. We’ll be ready to move immediately after the child is born.”
“Perfect,” the billionaire said. “Take no risks with our babies. I am extremely fond of each of them, as you well know. I can have a bus there to pick up your staff and guests soon as the delivery occurs.”
“Excellent. The pieces are all falling into place perfectly. Might I ask where we’ll be going?” Langer had never been specific.
“Well, I’ve kept that a closely held secret,” he said. “The new compound will truly be out in the middle of nowhere. Twenty miles from the nearest town, which has a population of only three thousand.”
Too vague, but Misha wasn’t going to ask again. “Wonderful.”
“It should be. And I’ve made certain that the residents in the area prefer to keep their noses out of other people’s business.”
“Excellent.” It did sound great, but the remoteness raised an important issue. “What about a doctor, sir? Our current one has been critical to our success.”
“Then you’ll be happy to hear the woman
has agreed to move with you in return for a bonus advance.”
Misha pushed aside his nervousness at hearing that Langer had contacted her directly. The man wasn’t even supposed to know her name. But it was working out for the best. Wu was a greedy bitch and happened to be quite skilled with female medicine. “That’s great news. As I’ve mentioned several times, sir, being forced to send the preggers offsite for their doctor visits has created serious security risks.”
“Agreed,” Langer said. “No longer a problem. The doctor will reside at your new compound.”
“You’ve thought of everything, sir.” And he had. The guy was a genius at managing complex business ventures. The billionaire had made his fortune by providing mercenaries to fight the endless civil wars in Africa and the Middle East. That was how Misha had first started working for him, managing a brigade of mercenaries in the Democratic Republic of Congo.
As soon as the old bastard hung up, Misha spent a few minutes crunching numbers. His gross income was unbelievable, and even after deducting three times his current expenses, he’d net more than forty million bucks a year. That sent a thrill through him that not even Cici could tame.
The man had to celebrate. He went to find her and a bottle of Dom Perignon.
Chapter 6
Grab-N-Go Store, Durango
On their way out of town, Beau and Athena stopped by the gas station where she’d seen Jackie and Mia. He collected the video from the three cameras that captured the shocking events from yesterday.
Obviously, Athena hadn’t exaggerated anything. They used his laptop to review the short clips and compared notes. To his credit, Beau took a moment with her to mourn Mia.
He drove his rental SUV east on US 160. Athena sat in a back seat and assembled the drone. She’d charged all the battery packs overnight, but the machine itself had remained in its box.
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