The Rites: Ethos Society Part One

by Chloe Gunter

  Thanking the petite blond bartender, I offered Anorak a scotch before taking a slow sip of mine, swirling the liquid across my tongue, before lifting the glass back to my mouth for another.

  “Do you really think we should be drinking on the job, honey?” Anorak whispered low in my ear.

  “I think we should blend in darling, and having the scent of alcohol on us, in case we get caught, may be our only saving grace. So why don’t you go ahead and take a big swig of your scotch like I just told you something tantalizing before you discreetly take another and push it back.”

  His eyes glinted with amusement as he lifted his glass to his lips. I watched his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallowed the smoky liquid before running his tongue along his bottom lip. He bent his head forward, eliminating the space between us. He pressed his lips to mine lazily, kissing me slow and running his tongue over mine salaciously.

  When we broke away I was panting, and I looked up at him in curiosity before he reached up to move a lock of hair out of my face.

  “We have activity at three o’clock and a potential access point. Glitch, you ready man?” Anorak whispered under his breath as he continued to play with the lock of hair.

  Deciding to pay him back in kind, and add to the illusion that we were an intoxicated couple who just couldn’t keep their hands off one another, I trailed my hands up his thighs before cupping his ass and pulled him to me. Hard.

  His drink sloshed over the rim of his glass and splashed against my dress. I let out a small yelp, one that played the thin line of anger and a passionate promise, “Oh dear, I think I may need a hand cleaning up.”

  Linking my fingers through his hand, I dragged him in the direction of the bathrooms that were directly adjacent to the ‘employees only’ door that Anorak had spotted moments before. We ducked into the men’s restroom, him doing a sweep of the stalls before I locked the door.

  “Alright Glitch, please tell me you were able to tap into their feed so we know what we’re about to go up against. We probably have one minute in here before someone tries to get in and we can use the distraction to gain access to the hallway.”

  “Lucky for you Bird, they never changed the old admin passwords on their Wi-Fi. I’ve got the security feeds for the cameras but the bastard was smart. I can’t find any traces on this network of his computer or external systems. Most likely he has them set up on a private network with hardline access. I can tell you where to go but Anorak, you need to handle the systems and you’ll need to do it fast.”

  “I can more than handle it Glitch, just tell us when we have a clear path to the door. I have things I want to do,” Anorak said, giving me a pointed look.

  What the fuck has gotten into him? Did being apart for a week really turn him into someone so blatant about what they wanted? Not that I’m complaining but hell, there's a time and place for everything.

  “You’re on in 3...2...go now,” Glitch said in my ear as I opened the bathroom door and darted across the hall, Anorak on my heels.

  “What now, Glitch?” I asked, scanning the narrow hall for signs of where to go next.

  “End of the hall, make a left, that should dead end into Doyle’s office. You have ten seconds to make it there before the guard makes it back from checking out Thistle’s distraction in the bar.”

  I took off in a sprint, running as fast as I could in my stiletto boots, teetering on the sharp turn down the hallway. Hearing Glitch’s urging in my ear, we ran through the door, Anorak turning abruptly to shut it behind us and engaged the lock.

  As I scanned the room for the safe, Anorak sat at the desk and pulled a fingernail sized drive from one of his cufflinks. Briefly impressed by the ingenuity, I watched as he inserted the micro card into the computer and began infiltrating the system. My eyes went back to the room as I catalogued every personal item of Doyle’s office.

  While Doyle may have been wealthy from his questionable black market dealings, it was easy to ascertain that he didn’t originally come from money and that he was trying to compensate for it. The room was just too overly done with the imposing high back desk chair and the ostentatious liquor cart. The kind that boasted numerous rare blends meant to entice but were never actually opened to enjoy. All a façade he put on to mask his upbringing. And I was betting that I’d find the safe somewhere he thought that people would least expect it. Somewhere that was personal, and meant a lot to him.

  The only personal photo I could find was of him and some professional baseball player whose name escaped me. My eyes swept over the art in the room, finding no connection before landing on the bookcase. I doubted Doyle had much time to spend reading. Running my fingertips over the spines, I noticed that the wood had collected a faint smattering of dust.

  Shelf by shelf I looked for an impression, any clue that could lead to what I needed to find.

  “Anorak and Bird, Doyle just pulled up outside of Onyx. You need to hurry the fuck up and fast.” Adrenaline burst forth at his warning, and my eyes finally collided with what I was looking for. A displacement of dust in front of an autobiography signaled that it had been recently moved. Wrapping my fingers around the spine, I tried to remove the title from the shelf only to find that the book acted as a lever, revealing a hidden panel behind the bookcase. That was some regular Nancy Drew shit right there.

  “Thank fuck, Bird. He’s almost done making the rounds. Anorak, you better crack that safe fucking fast because you have less than a minute to grab it and get out before he comes back there.”

  “Come on, you piece of shit,” Anorak muttered under his breath as his fingers moved across the keys, finishing a hard strike on the command key. He blew out a harsh breath and looked at the newly revealed safe.

  “You guys need to leave now!” Glitch shouted through the buds, “He’s about to come through the back door and if you don’t leave now, you’re going to get fucking caught and we’re all going to fail.”

  “Five more seconds and that baby is going to pop open, get ready to fly Bird,” Anorak warned as I moved towards the door and he positioned himself in front of the safe.

  As soon as it popped opened he grabbed the memory sticks and shoved them in his pocket quickly hitting the book to cover the safe backup. I opened the door and motioned him through frantically, wondering just how we were going to get out of this.

  “He’s in the hall, you guys better make it fucking believable,” Glitch warned.

  I quickly hiked my dress up as Anorak undid a few more buttons of his shirt before he slammed me into the wall, one hand weaving through my hair as he claimed my mouth, the other finding purchase on my ass.

  Our tongues battled against each other as I let out an obscenely loud moan that was not at all faked, which was rewarded with a nip on my lips. I was so lost in the feeling of him against me, of trying to get him as close as possible that I didn’t pick up on the footsteps coming down the corridor at a quicker pace until just before they reached us. Fully aware of the figure who was standing to our side, I kept my movements desperate and sloppy, making sure to let my head loll a bit to the side.

  The sound of a gun being cocked raised my internal alarms as I broke apart from Anorak and looked toward Doyle and his two goons, feigning confusion.

  “Did you bring friends Brad? Naughty boy,” I slurred, bopping Anorak playfully on the nose before wagging my finger at him. He wrapped a hand around my waist, pulling me against him before looking over to Doyle who was flushed, probably from both anger and attraction.

  “You know I don’t usually share, baby,” he grabbed my fingers from the air and placed it in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it before releasing it with a loud pop. I launched myself at him, wrapping my legs around his body, acting like I want to mount him like a tree. We carried on pawing at each other for all to see, but the pit in my stomach grew deeper as Glitch’s voice carried through our ears.

  “Bird, they know. Get the fuck out of there. They just pinged your picture.”

 
Anorak’s grip tightened on me, even if my FBI and GRAVITAS backgrounds were sealed, they’d know from my Master’s degree and my gun registration that I wasn’t the mindless liquored up bimbo I was pretending to be. Preparing to fight our way out of this predicament, I squeezed Anorak forcefully. Once...Twice...Three times until we abruptly spun away from each other, launching ourselves at Doyle and his goons.

  What we weren’t prepared for amidst the clash of fists was the dense white fog that fell from the ceiling. Not realizing until it was too late, I had already inhaled and could feel my body immediately lose control, my muscles starting to seize.

  Falling against the cold floor, I was paralyzed, unable to fight off the hands that held me down and searched me.

  As a tear trailed down my cheek, the last thing I saw through the bleary haze was a limp Anorak being dragged down the hall.

  And then, nothing.

  The smell of mold and stone was the first thing that assaulted my senses. My eyelids hung heavy and useless, an obstruction to my new surroundings while my fingertips and toes were being assaulted with the blaring pain of a thousand pinpricks.

  I don't know how long I had lain face down on the concrete floor, unable to do more than take ragged breaths as I willed myself to gain control of my body. From the sounds that filtered through my ears I was able to ascertain that I was in a relatively small room, the drips of water echoing nearby.

  Finally managing to open my eyes, I saw that my assessment of the space was correct. Dingy yellowed cinder block walls made up the room I was in. Judging by the fact that I could see two corners of the room in my field of vision, it was beyond tiny, no more than maybe seven feet across.

  Dragging my arms against the concrete, I struggled to brace them under me. It took three tries, my body collapsing back against the cold stone, before I was able to push myself up and drag myself to the nearest wall.

  I was in a fucking cell. Complete with a bare cot, metal facilities, and iron bars.

  After I scanned the room intently, cataloguing the nuances, I rested my head against the wall and tried to come up with a plan on how to get the fuck out of there. While I knew the likelihood of Anorak still having the drives was slim, we might still have been able to get out of there and make it back to the facility in time. Maybe Glitch had managed a miracle or something.

  Just as the thought entered my mind, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps outside in the hall, followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the stone floor. Keys jangled before metal scraped against stone, a loud thud sounding in the room next to me.

  I slowed my breath, stealing myself for what I knew was probably going to happen to me next. I knew the reality, had undergone the training, but that did nothing to calm the rising fear that was growing in the pit of my stomach. As the door to my cell opened, I didn't even have the strength or control of my body to fight back as they took me.

  The leather straps bit into my wrists as I gripped the arms of the chair tight, my knuckles turning white from the strain. Tight straps braced my ankles as well, making escape nearly impossible. My heart was beating a rapid cadence in my chest as I sat waiting for what was to happen next.

  I had no idea what they would decide to do with me. Torture, interrogation, everything was up for grabs as I sat in that chair, strung tight with dread and anticipation. I did know one thing however. I wasn’t going down without one hell of a fight.

  These types of games were like second nature to me. And when I played them, I played to win.

  Footsteps sounded on the concrete and I forced my chin up, my gaze unflinching as Doyle entered the room followed by two new goons.

  "Ms. DeWitt is it?" Doyle questioned, coming to stand in front of me. I watched him roll his sleeves up like he was some cliché monster about to get his hands dirty.

  There was no way a man like that would do his own dirty work. I kept silent, my eyes locked on his while I raised an eyebrow mockingly.

  "While I'd really like to knock that smile off your face, it seems we're in a bit of a time crunch. And since your friend was unwilling to cooperate and is in no condition to answer questions, we're going to be doing things a little differently this time."

  He motioned behind me, and I willed my body to stay still as I heard what sounded like a metal cart being rolled next to me. Out of my periphery I saw an IV line being hung from a tall metal pole attached to a tray that contained syringes filled with a milky liquid. So that's how this was going to play out.

  I sat perfectly still, not bothering to waste my energy with struggling as the man who had wheeled the cart wrapped a tourniquet around my upper arm and started a line.

  It wouldn't be the first time that I had been drugged or interrogated. Every experience was slightly different, just like every drug cocktail mixed with the intent of uncovering the truth, trying to get the subject into a twilight state of compliance and questionability.

  I've never been more thankful for sealed records than I was at that point. While they probably knew I had a psychology degree and studied foreign languages from accessing a basic search, they could not have any idea the depth of training I’ve had. They had no idea what I could do, or who I worked for. And, there was no way they were going to find out.

  My already exhausted and depleted body was susceptible to the drug that was undoubtedly infused into the saline bag that led to my IV access. I let the feeling of lightness wash over me as I quickly deduced that the additional syringe probably had 5 cc in it, enough to increase the effects of the drug dramatically whenever they wanted throughout this interrogation.

  Delving deep into my mind, I started constructing a fortress of steel, full of locked doors and dead end alleyways. I reclined my head and closed my eyes, blocking out the outside world while letting them think that the drug had me under their complete control.

  "Tell us what we want to know." Doyle's voice sounded into the weightless haze I was floating in.

  "You're going to have to be a tad more specific," I said softly, playing into the illusion. "First Kiss? How I like my eggs in the morning?"

  I opened my eyes to see Doyle leaning over me, the close proximity making me reel. He trailed his fingers lewdly over my lips.

  "Maybe later, if you're a good little girl and tell me what I want to know. Who are you working with? And don't give me some bullshit answer."

  "I'm a psychiatrist, I work alone. Although I'm sure I could find some work for us to do together," I trailed off, infusing my tone with lust. He saw me basically get it on with someone without a care in the world. Playing the horny clueless co-ed was the only angle I could work in this situation.

  Smack!

  My head snapped to the side from his harsh slap and I could feel my face start to throb. The last thing I needed was to provoke him again, as I still needed to be able to walk out of there alive.

  "Push the first boost," Doyle instructed as he dragged a chair right in front of me, sitting just mere inches away from me.

  Ice swam through my veins, crawling up my arm, making me involuntarily shiver.

  "Tell me your name," Doyle demanded.

  He already knew my name. The man was trying to establish a baseline that I would answer honestly, since he already had and could verify that piece of information.

  "Charlotte DeWitt."

  "And who do you work for, Charlotte DeWitt?"

  "Myself. I'm a psychologist."

  I held on as hard as I could to that, knowing that in part it was true. As long as I rode the wave, and didn't actively try to lie, I would be able to survive his questioning. Half-truths and evasion were the only defenses I had when faced with this particular serum. He questioned me over and over again, growing more frustrated with the lack of information I provided.

  "Push the rest," Doyle demanded.

  "But sir-"

  "Push. It. Now." From the enunciation and grit in his voice, I could tell Doyle was about to lose his cool. As a firm hand wrapped around my chin, I
knew I was right.

  On and on the questions went and more and more did Doyle's frustration rise. My body laid limp in the chair, so languid that I would have slumped over if not for the leather straps holding me in place. As it was, I was barely holding on against the onslaught of chemicals that were coursing through my system. But I knew that if I wanted to survive, that I would need to remain conscious.

  The ground rushed up quickly in front of my face and I had no defense as my cheek ricocheted off the concrete floor. As I lay there gasping I could feel the warm liquid of my own blood start to leak from the abrasion.

  "Bird?" A frantic voice called. "You better fucking answer me right now or I'm going to come and kill you myself."

  A small groan was as much as I could muster as the leftover serum made its way through my veins. They hadn't bothered to give me any reverse treatment course so I was left susceptible and slow until it wore off, or I could trigger an influx of adrenaline in my veins that would burn off the lasting effects.

  Time blurred and my eyelids fluttered closed, drifting in and out. I don't know how much time had passed before I was able to lean against the far wall, my head between my knees. Doyle and his men had questioned me until I passed out, having no other choice but to drop me back in my cell until I regain my faculties. While my body was sore, my mind was exhausted from all the circumventing I had to do during the relentless interrogation.

  "Anorak?" I breathed out, hoping I wasn't imagining the voice that had been my constant companion as I floated adrift.

  "I'm here, Bird. I'm here," he said, relief evident in his voice. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, so help me, I'm never bringing you anywhere ever again."

  A weak laugh escaped my lips as I brought my head up and rested it against the wall, "Whatever you say. Let's just get the hell out of here."

  "I've been noting the shifts, there’s another in about an hour, which should be our best bet. Are you going to be up for it?"