No Return

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No Return Page 13

by Nolon King


  Paul took the sack and nodded, then followed the manager downstairs toward a giant vault door.

  An armed guard stood outside it, barely looking at either of them as the manager opened the vault and led them inside. The room was huge, lined with safe deposit boxes from ceiling to floor. A large wooden table sat in the center. It was cold, and the vents were loud. It almost felt like a cave.

  Paul wondered how many people kept their wealth and secrets hidden in the bowels of Banco Montaña BPI.

  “Here you are, sir,” the man said, stopping in front of a box whose metal front read 15625.

  They each inserted a key, then the man pulled out the long box, and brought it to the table.

  “I’ll be just outside.” Then he left Paul to his privacy.

  Paul opened the box.

  Inside was an envelope addressed to him, a flash drive, and two larger manilla envelopes.

  He opened the letter.

  Dearest Paul,

  If you’re reading this, then things have gone terribly, terribly wrong. My only hope is that you’re not caught in the web of my machinations.

  You may be wondering why you’re here. Perhaps you’ve already pieced it together. At any rate, I’m a member of a company called Voluptatem.

  We’re a small but powerful group of like-minded pleasure-seeking individuals who refuse to obey the so-called “laws” of other hypocritical men.

  But as is the case with any group, not everybody is as discerning as the rest. It’s sad to say, but we’ve had to make some compromises along the way, and some rotten apples have found their way inside.

  People with whom I cannot agree.

  I am but one voice, a single vote. I soon found my position threatened by those seeking to expand this little group into something bigger, something beyond its initial scope.

  Seeing my days numbered, I put together enough information on its members to secure my safety.

  That’s what’s in this box.

  If they are responsible for my passing, I hope you will use the flash drive to burn them.

  If not, and I’ve died by natural causes, then allow this to serve as your membership into said group. Maybe you can make it into something better than we ever managed.

  There is an encrypted flash drive in the box. The key is the name of the book I gave you. No spaces.

  Paul thought for a moment, then remembered looking at Wes’s bookshelf and seeing a book that caught his interest. Hitler’s Mein Kampf.

  He had heard of it and wondered what could possibly be inside. Paul wasn’t a racist, nor did he have any opinion on Jews. But the book had a forbidden air, and thus made him curious.

  Wes handed it over. Sadly, the book was nowhere near as interesting as Paul had imagined, and he never even finished reading it.

  I’ve set up a website with a password protected page, built on blockchain. Once you’ve opened this box, the bank president was instructed to make the website live. It’s programmed to require your typing the book title, all caps, no spaces, into a box on the thirtieth of every month. If you fail, the information will be unencrypted and sent to the press.

  This is my poison pill to ensure your safety. Tell Madam Pandora about this website, without revealing the URL, and you will be safe.

  Lastly, I want to apologize to both you and your sister. I hope you can find it in your hearts to one day forgive me.

  Love,

  Wes

  Paul wiped the tears from his eyes then took the contents of the box.

  Chapter 35 - Jessi Price

  Jessi waited on the bed as Miss Mallory showered.

  It felt good to have someone else here with her, even though she knew Mallory was taken against her will, too, and was scared. She tried to act like she was fine, but Jessi wasn’t dumb.

  Jessi was also scared, but with Mallory here, she had to be brave. Maybe if they were both strong enough they could figure a way out of this place.

  They’d done it before, after all. And while the memories were still fuzzy, Jessi remembered feeling hopeless then, too.

  But now there was more than just Paul. There were a bunch of people in some weird hotel or something, keeping them prisoner. How did Lucia fit into it all? She seemed like a good person, even if she was working with the bad guys. Jessi wasn’t sure how Lucia could help them, especially if she was a prisoner, too.

  Mallory came out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. It looked a lot more comfortable than the dress.

  Jessi wished she could get some more comfortable clothes, but they’d only given her dresses that made her feel like a doll. She wondered if these people knew any real girls her age. Why would they think a girl would only want to wear dresses?

  “Did I miss anything?” Miss Mallory asked.

  “Nobody’s been here. But I think dinner is soon. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah. Have they been feeding you three meals a day?”

  “Yes. Most of the people have been nice, except for making me take medicine. What is this place?”

  Mallory paused. “Truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve never seen a place like this. You’ve only been in your room, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you didn’t see anyone else?”

  “Only the ones I told you about.”

  “Any idea how big the place is? Or how many people there are?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  “Who usually brings you food?”

  “Lucia. Though there’s always a man with her, and he has a gun.”

  “The same man or different ones?”

  “Different.”

  “How many different ones.”

  “Um, maybe three?”

  “And do you see the same ones at the same times? Like the same guy in the morning each day, then a different guy at noon, and so on?”

  Jessi thought, but some of her days were still fuzzy. “I can’t really remember. I think it’s been different people all day. Like one guy all day and then another the next.”

  “But Lucia always comes?”

  “Yes, she’s been there each time.”

  Mallory was quiet, thinking. Jessi didn’t want to interrupt her by asking why she was asking so many specifics. Even though they kept their voices low, Mallory had warned Jessi that the people might hear them.

  A woman’s voice came over the speaker. “It’s dinner time. Sit on the bed and do not do anything stupid. Do you understand?”

  Mallory and Jessi both said yes. Mallory sat on the bed beside Jessi.

  The door opened.

  Lucia entered, rolling a cart with covered plates and drinks.

  The door stayed open, and standing guard just inside was one of the men in black, a heavy guy with a big bushy beard, holding a gun.

  Lucia smiled. “How are you today, Jessi?”

  “Okay. This is Mallory.”

  “Hello,” Lucia said, meeting Mallory’s eyes before quickly turning back to the food.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Lucia looked to the guard, staring at them blankly, then back at Mallory. “Sure.”

  “Why are we here?”

  “I don’t know. They don’t tell me.”

  “What do they tell you?”

  “They tell me to keep our guests happy, and that’s what I try to do.”

  Mallory sounded mean, but Jessi didn’t want to say anything that might upset her or cause a scene. She’d hate it if Lucia stopped coming.

  Lucia raised the covers to reveal chicken, rice, and veggies, steam pluming off of the plates, the smell rumbling Jessi’s stomach.

  “How old are you?” Mallory asked.

  “Seventeen.”

  “What is this place?”

  “Paraíso,” Lucia said, handing a plate to Jessi.

  “What is Paraíso?”

  “An exclusive destination for guests with discriminating tastes,” Lucia said, handing the second plate to Mallory.

  “And that’s what we are
? Guests? We didn’t ask to be here. We were kidnapped.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t know—”

  The voice boomed over the speaker. “Please, Ms. Black, be quiet and let Lucia do her job.”

  “I just want some answers!”

  “You will get them soon enough. For now, please enjoy your meal and your visit. We’re trying to be as accommodating as possible given the circumstances. Don’t force us to be … less accommodating.”

  Lucia handed Mallory a bottle of water and whispered, “Don’t upset them.” Her eyes were urgent, bordering on terror. “Please.” She handed a second bottle to Jessi.

  Mallory shut her mouth and watched Lucia rolled the cart out of their room. The guard followed, then locked the door behind them.

  “Sorry,” Mallory said, though she wasn’t sure if she was apologizing to Jessi or whoever was watching.

  Jessi pressed her fork into the rice. It hit something that wasn’t food.

  She kept eating, slowly uncovering what was stuck inside the rice so that the camera wouldn’t catch her. She saw a rolled-up piece of white paper, covered in rice, so she put it in her mouth, then excused herself to the restroom.

  She hoped there weren’t cameras in the bathroom, but Jessi couldn’t be sure, so she put her hand on her stomach and made a terrible grimace before falling to her knees and coughing into her hand.

  The piece of paper, along with clumps of wet rice, dropped into her palm. She kept retching, pushing her hair back from the toilet.

  “Are you okay?” Mallory asked from outside the door.

  “Just feeling a little pukey,” Jessi said, trying to look and sound as authentically sick as possible for whomever might be listening.

  She resumed her position hunched over the toilet, hand hidden in her hair, unrolling the piece of paper. Once unfolded, she went back to gagging, her face practically in the bowl as she bought herself seconds of reading time.

  I will find a way to help you. Just be patient.

  Tears stung her eyes, touched that this girl who didn’t even know her would risk everything to help.

  Jessi flushed the paper along with the stuff she’d spit into the toilet.

  Be patient.

  She had to find a way to let Mallory know, so she wouldn’t do anything to anger their captors or prevent Lucia from helping.

  Chapter 36 - Paul Dodd

  Daniel ushered Paul into Madam Pandora’s room then promptly left.

  Paul, holding the black cloth bag with the contents of the box, took a seat opposite her desk.

  The way she stared at him without any emotion chilled him to the marrow. This was a woman who couldn’t care less if he lived or died. He’d had that look from many women, including his ex-wife, but those stares were different. They didn’t belong to someone with the power to make his immediate death a distinct possibility.

  “You have the flash drive?” This sounded less like an inquiry than a command.

  “Yes.” Paul reached into the bag and handed the drive right over.

  “And what else was in the box?”

  “Photos, of a rather disturbing nature.”

  “I would like those as well.”

  He pulled out the envelope and slid it across the desk.

  “Anything else?”

  He wondered if she knew. Maybe she was testing his leverage.

  A new fear crept into his skull. What if this was all a test to see if he could be trusted? What if the moment he tried to blackmail her — only to assure his safety, but blackmail no less — they decided that he wasn’t worthy of membership in their club? Then of course they would kill him.

  He’d been dreading this moment when he thought it was the right thing. Now, self-doubt riddled his every thought. If this was a test, then Paul was about to fail.

  “There was cash and some bearer bonds.”

  “Those are yours to do with as you wish. Though once you leave our protection, I would advise you put them back in the bank. I’m sure you’re aware of the danger of carrying those around.”

  “Yes,” he said, surprised she was giving him advice as if she cared about his welfare. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything about the back-up plan. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, be grateful, leave the room, then get on with his new life.

  But the iciness in Pandora’s eyes reminded him to trust his gut, and his instincts said Wes was right not to trust these people. “There is one other thing.”

  She folded her hands on the desk. “Yes?”

  His heart throbbed in his neck as he worked up the courage to lay it all on the line. “There is a digital copy of the flash drive connected to a website that Wes set up.”

  “What?” She leaned forward ever so slightly, her hands still folded.

  “It’s programmed to send the documents to several agencies and media outlets if anything should happen to me, or if I don’t give it weekly instructions to stand down.”

  “This is unacceptable. What if something happens to you? What if you should, let’s say, die from natural causes? Then you’re going to blow up Paraíso?”

  “I have precautions in place. And we can work out those details after I’m safe. No offense, Madam, but Wes advised me to protect myself. He said there were people on the board that couldn’t be trusted.”

  “Oh, really? And which people might that be?”

  Paul smiled, trying to convey a confidence he wasn’t particularly feeling. “I can’t betray a dead man’s trust.”

  “But you will betray us?”

  “No. I’ll keep my mouth shut like a good little boy. But, you have to admit, I’m in a precarious situation, a fugitive wanted for murder in a country where I don’t know anyone, and I’ve recently inherited a sizable fortune. I think you can appreciate that I’d want to assure my safety.”

  “The board won’t be pleased.”

  “I’ve given that some thought. And I’m willing to surrender my shares so that our interests are more aligned.”

  “Your shares? Do you realize the value and power you’d be giving up?”

  “I don’t need either. I just want to live the rest of my life free from worry, the law, and business partners stabbing me in the back.”

  “I’m not sure the board will be happy to know that this digital suicide pill exists.”

  “Then don’t tell them. All I need is for you to assure my safety. Can you do that?”

  She stared at Paul as a cold silence settled over him, his every fiber ordering him to apologize and get the hell out of there before Pandora ordered him dead.

  She nodded, barely moving. “You have a deal, Mr. Dodd.”

  Madam offered her hand and they shook, though Paul would wait until he was out of the room to finally exhale.

  Chapter 37 - Paul Dodd

  After finalizing the details of their arrangement, Paul was free to wander Paradise as a full-fledged member while Madam Pandora put the final touches on his new home.

  Inside the elevator, Daniel turned to him before pressing any buttons. “Where would you like to go, sir?”

  “What are my options?”

  “We have two different clubs. A dance club and a gentleman’s club. We also have several bars including one outdoor at the pool. Also, a world class restaurant that—”

  “A pool bar? Yes, I’d like to go there.”

  Daniel pressed the rooftop button and they began their ascent.

  “Shall I get you some clothing more appropriate for swimming?”

  “Yes, I’d like that. Thank you.”

  Paul wondered if he’d made a mistake by surrendering his seat on the board. He could get used to this sort of treatment, and the kind of benefits that Paradise provided. Spoiled, even.

  The elevator doors dinged open to a bright rooftop pool and bar, a DJ blasting Europop, and a mix of wealthy but mostly ugly men and stunning models ranging from mid-teen to early thirties. The pool ran into a grotto where Paul imagined people were fucking as if it were the Playboy Mansion.


  Daniel led him past a row of lounge chairs toward the bar. Paul scanned the area, searching for younger children. He didn’t see any yet.

  He wondered if this is where they kept things more legit. It was on a rather high mountain rooftop with no buildings looking directly down onto it, but Paul imagined the authorities or other busy bodies could use drones to surveil the area. Best to keep the illegal shit away from prying eyes.

  Daniel introduced him to a beautiful caramel-skinned blonde with piercing blue eyes. “Maria, this is Mr. Paul. Take good care of him, will you?”

  “Hello. What can I get for you, Mr. Paul?” She flashed a killer smile. Perfect cleavage spilled out from her tight yellow bikini.

  “Surprise me,” he said, feeling adventurous.

  “That’s the spirit, sir!” Daniel slapped Paul on the back. “I’ll be back shortly, with a change of clothing.”

  Moments later, Maria returned with a drink. “Here you go, Mr. Paul. A Pancho Villa.”

  He didn’t ask what it was. He simply raised the glass to his lips and sucked it down.

  A short while later, Paul was lying on a lounge chair wearing shorts, a red tee, and shades. The sun kissed his skin, making him wish he wasn’t so damned self-conscious about the scars on his back. It seemed, particularly in a place like this where women were paid, or forced, to be kind, that nobody would freak out. But there was no disguising their eyes. And, for now, he wanted to enjoy the illusion of being a normal guy able to relax and enjoy himself.

  He closed his eyes, listening to the music and splashing, the laughter and conversation blending with the scent of chlorine and coconut, inviting memories of childhood summers at Wes’s house when he would let Paul and his sister swim in the pool and rub lotion on their bodies.

  He remembered touching and being touched. As he thought back to his sister’s creamy young breasts, her light pink, hard nipples in his fingers, Paul felt his cock start to harden.

  Suddenly, he felt someone standing over him.

 

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