Savage Alliance

by R. T. Wolfe

  She'd picked her brown leather boots with the thicker heels. The pastel orange button-down blouse was sleeveless, and she chose her belt holster rather than the shoulder one that hugged her shirt. Sweat dripped down her back anyway.

  "We have a room in the clubhouse," Hurst told her as they walked past the entrance to a long line of stables. The scent of manure mixed with fresh hay brought her back to her childhood, and that confused her. Why not to Duncan's brother's farm? It was where Duncan's horse was kept. Abigail loved Nickie, and the feeling was mutual. Same smell, yet her mind went to her childhood?

  She guessed her parents had stables too. Maybe it was the pristine cleanliness all around her that took her mind there instead of Andy's barn. She'd never been to Belmont Park before, and even after years of English riding lessons, she'd never attended any horse race or riding show. Her parents never took her any place where she might embarrass them. Nickie was never proper enough, never clean enough.

  Glancing down the entrance to the line of stables, a few dozen men and some women worked in front of an endless row of doors, each with what she thought of as a flower planter that overflowed with hay. The help hustled through the corridor with ropes and horse brushes.

  As she followed Hurst into the clubhouse, she looked over her shoulder at the track. Machines manicured the mass of dirt. Her questions were endless. Would Slippery Jimbo be part of the planning meeting? How many groups of children were involved? Fu Haizi. She tried not to get her hopes up, and with all of the breaches in security thus far, she kept her mouth shut about it for now.

  A woman in beige slacks, an ivory vest and impossibly tall matching pumps nodded. "Good day, Special Agent." The frown on her face spoke volumes. "Do you really have to do this today?" As did her words.

  Hurst nodded. "If you would lead us to our meeting room, we have work to do."

  "The others are waiting. Some have been there for over an hour."

  As he checked his watch, Hurst followed the direction of the outstretched arm that gestured to a door in the back of the building. The building was decked out in wide, light-colored floor trim and ceiling crown molding. Large floor plants rested in corners on the hardwood floors with framed, matted posters of Triple Crown winners lining the walls.

  Nickie followed Hurst into the room. She was relieved it wasn't nearly as decorated. She first noted that Slippery Jimbo was there. He sat at a table near a line of windows with five special agents. Not that it wasn't disconcerting having him there, but she was more distracted by the unconventional balance between female and male federal agents. By her quick count, she noted it was about fifty-fifty.

  Looking to Hurst, he must have read the expression on her face. "I went heavy on the female special agents. Since a majority of the captive children are girls, I thought it might help them feel more comfortable."

  Nickie nodded. Another reason to like a fed. This was not going at all as she expected.

  Jimbo didn't yell out to her, greet her as Detective Dude or cause a scene. She was back to disconcerted.

  Six tables that sat twelve each were arranged in two lines. Miss Ivory Vest provided a dry erase board on wheels at the end of the two lines of tables. It had a pad of chart paper draped over it. The rest of the seventy-one federal agents filed in and filled the remaining seats.

  Her partner took the seat next to her.

  "For those of you who haven't been introduced," Hurst started as he walked toward the front of the room, "this is James Spalding."

  Jimbo didn't look so great. Ghostly white, really. She couldn't blame him. The room was filled with people not to be trusted. Including himself.

  "He is the Northridge, New York, police informant who—"

  Nickie wanted to crawl in a hole. She dared not look but could feel Eddy staring daggers into the side of her head. After all the times she and Eddy put Jimbo away only to have his slimy lawyer get him off...

  "—was approached at an OTB this week as a potential john. He's been able to infiltrate the organization with promises of bringing in friends who want... different things."

  Nickie ran her hands over her face, then interrupted. "Can you be more specific? Girls? Boys? Either? Young? Not so young?"

  For a federal agent, he sure did have issues with keeping it together for this. He winced like he'd just eaten a lemon. "James?"

  "Me?" Jimbo darted his eyes from Hurst to her to Eddy and back again. "Oh. Okay. Um. I'm visiting my homies, ya know." His hands shook, and his voice cracked. "Like the man here said, I had a dude ask me if I wanted a piece of his stable."

  "A piece of his what?" interrupted one of the agents who sat at the table with Jimbo.

  Jimbo's eyes grew, and he looked to Nickie.

  "A stable," she said, forcing her eyes not to roll. "It's slang for a group of prostitutes."

  "You've got to be kidding me," the agent said and laughed out loud. It took him about twice as long as it should have to notice he was the only one laughing. "That's funny, right? The irony? Stables? We're at a horse race?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Eddy spoke up from the spot next to her. "Shut the fuck up, Asswipe. These are kids we're talking about," he said as he sat with his forearms on his thighs.

  The agent jumped to his feet. He was all ballsy from across the room. "You shut the fuck up." His thighs hit the metal table, and it scraped against the tile floor.

  Oh great. They'd turned into junior high girls.

  "The only reason you and your girlfriend are here is because she knows all about stables."

  Eddy leaped across his table. She wasn't about to stop him. In fact, she considered joining him. It looked as if the dude wasn't liked by his peers either. A few agents got to their feet, not to help out the agent but get out of the way.

  "Motherfucker. I'll kick your ass," Eddy said as he jumped, clearing the last table all together. Asswipe darted his eyes around like he was planning an escape route.

  The dude started swinging before Eddy even reached him. Eddy ducked, then fisted the jerk's button-down shirt with one hand and landed a solid punch to the side of his face. He held back; she could tell. No shoulder, no tork. And he didn't go for the nose or temple but the cheek. Regardless, he made his point. Asswipe stammered and fell back into his chair.

  "Gentlemen," Hurst boomed. She thought it took him a little too long to speak up, and that it probably was on purpose. She'd also never heard anything so loud but didn't dare cover her ears. It was as if a mega magnet pulled her butt to her chair. Eddy and Asswipe too. "Detectives Savage and Lynx are respectable members of the Northridge Police Department with extensive clock hours and success with taking down and apprehending human trafficking crime rings. You will give them the same respect you offer me, or you can find yourself another operation."

  Eddy made his way back to his seat, but not without kicking a chair on the way.

  "Detective Savage will lead the meeting from here."

  She will?

  "I'd like to start with hearing James's testimony, if that's all right with you, Detective," he finished and sat down.

  She looked around. The agents' faces said they wanted to listen to her about as much as she wanted to lead the meeting. Asswipe mumbled something she figured contained enough colorful language to make a rainbow.

  Giving Jimbo a go-ahead nod, his chest expanded and released. "Right. Yeah. Um. The dude in the black came up to me and asked me about the stable. I was like, hell yes. No." He drew out the word and shook his head before correcting his statement. "I mean. I was like faking interested and stuff. Then, he showed me a picture. It was a kid. Can you believe that shit? So, I thought of Detective Savage, ya know? She rescues kids from that shi—from that stuff. I didn't call you, Detective Savage, on account of you having the case taken from you by the feds and all." He wrung his hands together. "So, I had this card, ya know. That you left... that I found on your desk. It had Mr. Hurst's here phone number."

  "As we deepened into his testimony," Hurst i
nterrupted. "James agreed to wear a wire. He promised the perpetrators he would bring friends."

  Nickie stood. "You put a wire on Slippery Jimbo?"

  "It worked."

  "Promises of bringing in men? I want to hear the wiretap audio."

  Hurst nodded. "Of course."

  She made her way to Jimbo. "Did they tell you what they had to offer? Boys? Girls? Ages? Where and when are you meeting them?"

  Hurst sat down. She'd moved far enough from her chair that she was the only one standing. It was awkward as hell.

  "Jeez, Detective Dude."

  Oh no. Jimbo was using Detective Dude. He was getting comfortable.

  "Do you gotta be all calloused?"

  "I'm sorry, Jimbo. How would you like me to sugarcoat this for you?" She placed a palm on the table between him and the agent next to him. "We have one shot at this. Tonight. That's it."

  Turning to face the crowd, she said to Jimbo but loud enough for all to hear. "You won't be lucky enough tonight to wear a wire. No weapons or electronics. They will confiscate cell phones and run a metal detector over each of you."

  She walked to the chart paper and lifted the bottom of it, looking for a marker. "How many friends did you tell them you were bringing with you tonight, Jimbo?"

  He shrugged. "I didn't."

  She let her chest expand before releasing the air completely. "Okay. We're going to plan on five since with you that'll be six undercover johns. One for each team." She turned to Hurst. Since Jimbo's table was the only male-only, she said, "I assume the five sitting with Jimbo are the other undercover johns?"

  He nodded.

  "None of you are repeat customers. That means you'll have to prove you're legit."

  Using her teeth, she uncapped the marker and drew a horizontal line near the top of the chart paper. In the space she'd created, she drew three shapes. The first was a spiral triangle. "This is the symbol used by johns who want boys."

  Several agents turned their gazes away from the symbol and not just the ones designated as undercover johns.

  Next, she drew a spiral heart. "This is the symbol used by johns who prefer little girls. And this—" she said, drawing two large and two small hearts depicting butterfly wings. She paused. Mariposa joven. In the back of her mind, she banked the connection, then shook her head back to the present. "—means the john will go either way."

  She turned to a room full of flushed and pale faces. "A tattoo of one of these on your person should be convincing enough."

  The eyes from one of the men from Jimbo's table widened and he asked, "Henna?"

  "No. These need to be color, but they will clean off your pretty little arm." She turned to face Hurst. "Too bad we don't have an artist on hand." She hoped her voice dripped with sarcasm. "You know the men best. I assume you have a plan as to who teams up with who?"

  Hurst answered, "I have you and Detective Lynx heading up one of the six."

  She knew he said this out loud for the sake of the others. Using the rest of the space beneath the symbols, she drew six boxes. She wrote Jimbo's name at the top of one of them, with hers and Eddy's names directly beneath.

  After some quick dividing in her head, she said, "Each group will have an undercover john, a team leader and three to nine additional men. Hurst, you decide on groups, then we'll go over strategy. I've got an errand to run."

  Chapter 5

  The flight was nearly empty yet the air stale after six hours enroute. Duncan loosened his tie.

  As the plane descended over the Lima, Peru air space, Andy offered commentary only he could provide. "This is crazy, man. You've got to see this."

  The brilliant white clouds that stood in front of the blue sky were, indeed, spectacular. However, Duncan wouldn't think of taking Andy's place at the window.

  "The mountains and villages are insane, brother. You could seal this shit in that memory of yours and paint for decades."

  Spoken like a poet. Duncan's stomach left him as the plane began the final descent. "Do you have your TAM card ready?"

  "Yes, big brother. And my baggage paper thing." The tires skipped along the runway. "Get a load of the cops. They know how to carry."

  Duncan lifted his chin and checked through the window. He spotted a row of police officers each carrying a Heckler and Koch 416 assault rifle. Interesting.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Jorge Chavez International Airport. Local time is 4:35 p.m., and the temperature is sixty degrees Fahrenheit."

  Duncan leaned back and inhaled deeply, his mind racing with the goals he planned to fulfill in the next few days. He needed to be certain about their theories regarding the holes in the map Andy had created. The voids surrounding the nearly dozen cities were obvious, but were they truly hubs containing Fu Haizi trafficked children?

  The Nevada and Maryland locations certainly were hubs at one time but were abandoned. The void around Northridge was both accurate and current. If he were able to find a hub of children in Lima, it would solidify the theory, at least in Duncan's mind.

  He and Andy would start with his short list of casinos with questionable reviews and locations. Tonight. Although he didn't speak the language, he had been able to pick up some Spanish phrases from his time spent with Nickie's Hispanic foster family. He could only hope to discover some connection and get some answers. Was Lima the mariposa joven?

  "For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign."

  "We meet Jess and his friend as soon as we exit."

  "Are we arming ourselves?" Andy asked.

  Duncan lifted a single brow as he glanced in front and behind. "Not if we don't have to," he answered in a low voice. "Only citizens are allowed to carry with a license."

  "I repeat," Andy said, as if Duncan hadn't just explained. At least he knew to lower his voice this time. "Are we packing?"

  "Possibly. First, I want to case the larger casinos. I have to go with what we know, and what we know is that Fu Haizi has a history of soliciting potential johns at large sporting events and in casinos. Since we don't know of sporting events in the next few days, I have both a short and long list of casinos."

  Andy nodded as his expression morphed into the one that scared Duncan enough to second-guess his decision to allow his brother to join him on the trip. He could be reckless. South America was not a place for recklessness.

  "One thing at a time, little brother. Jess Larsen's connections will save us precious time."

  "And will save us finding a place to stay where we won't be mugged, beat up or pickpocketed. I almost lament missing the challenge."

  "You're not funny."

  "I am completely and consistently funny."

  Duncan closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat. It would be more helpful to ignore Andy until departure.

  * * *

  Nickie stood facing the auto java machine in the stable-hand-only section. It stood along a corner with little air movement. Her blouse was damp and sweat formed around her hairline. Who drank coffee in this heat? The world carried on around her. More people showed up to pre-race shenanigans. More stable boys. Yet, her dilemma for this moment stood in front of her.

  She'd always considered herself a healthy person. She exercised regularly—had to—and ate well. Fruit, raw vegetables, Greek yogurt, protein. Her only vice was Diet Coke. That's it. One.

  Now, she was all about this... this thing she and Duncan were doing. No birth control meant no sweeteners, no caffeine, no fake fat, and no artificial anything. She didn't want to nuke some potential human. The kid would have enough strikes against it just being her kid. Except all of it meant no Diet Coke.

  She sighed, placed the palm of her hand on the decaf button, closed her eyes, and pressed. She heard the cup drop. The machine screeched and let out a stream of something that might smell okay but would taste awful. When she opened her eyes, she found a paper cup with steam coming from dark liquid. Rolling he
r eyes, she took it and sealed a lid over the top.

  With her free hand, she bent down and retrieved the bag she'd gotten from the nearby drugstore, then headed back to the meeting room. Eddy had a single hip sitting on the table inside the door. Most of the other agents had returned, too, and were huddled around the area in groups like in a high school cafeteria. She'd never been privy to any cafeteria huddle in high school or now.

  He tilted his head when he spotted her, looked at her cup of coffee, albeit decaf, then up to her face again. Nickie shrugged and stepped around him. She placed the plastic drugstore bag behind his butt on the table and turned to investigate the chart paper.

  First names had been added to the six boxes Nickie had created. "The undercover john is the name on top," Eddy affirmed.

  She nodded and assessed the rest of the room. A map of the park had been added next to the chart paper. A circle was drawn in black magic marker around an exit. "And the name under that is the team leader?" she asked about the list of names. Her name was under Slippery Jimbo's.

  "Yep." He must have spotted where her gaze landed. "And mine is under yours. We are listed under slimy Slippery Jimbo. What the fuck is that?"

  It was true; that was messed up. She shouldn't smile at a time like this, but she couldn't help it. Until she considered Jimbo in danger.

  Mock turtlenecks and black pants. The description kept coming back in her head. He'd taken a beating by Fu Haizi once before because of her. He could have squealed. He didn't. Goose bumps formed over her arms and electricity ran through them.

  She didn't believe in coincidences. Since there wasn't a dress code for human traffickers, she was quite likely going to face the crime ring responsible for her abduction as a young teen.

  She pressed her hand to the side of her jaw until her neck cracked, then did the same for the other side. Eddy set his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them up and down over her arms.

  "You cold?"