by Jan Graham
“Have you officially interviewed him?” Marcus asked.
“Yes, everything’s taped, typed up, and sitting on my desk, ready for me to log it in the system. If you need some time, I can hold off for a few days, but not much more than that,” Christian replied.
Marcus didn’t want him to hold off. Everything needed to be logged and in perfect order, so it would stand up in court. He didn’t want Remo to stay here, either. The longer the man sat in that room alone, the greater chance of him changing his mind. Marcus called Albert, the guy would love being woken at this hour. Unless like him, Goodchild was still at work.
Marcus needed transfer of custody papers from the Feds, documentation that Remo was under his protection until a secure residence could be found for the guy to stay in. Goodchild sounded like he was about to come as Marcus filled him in on the new turn of events. He required a few details though, and Remo was the only man who could give them to him. He strode out of the tiny dark space, his eyes squinting to readjust in the glare of the interview room.
“Remo, I’m Marcus Delany, I work for the Federal police, and I’m here to organize your protective custody. I have my boss in Canberra on the phone if you’d like to confirm any details with him.” Given Remo had requested the head of the crime squad be present for the interview, Marcus decided to play his boss card as well. “What’s your last name? We need it for the paperwork.”
“My name is Remington David Carter. People call me Remo for short.” Remo seemed decidedly nervous. But then who wouldn’t be if they were about to provide evidence against a psychotic killer, rapist, and people trafficker.
Marcus received permission to move Remo tonight to his place. The completed paperwork would arrive in Christian’s email shortly. Goodchild was dispatching men to collect Remo and move him out of state until Charlton was in custody, he’d be on his way within a couple of hours.
Marcus glared at Remo, probably doing nothing to ease the man’s nerves.
“You do realize if you renege on the deal, you will face charges for your role in the kidnapping of a young woman last night. We have hair from the scene of the abduction, and it’s yours, Remo.” Marcus’ ire waned a little when Remo asked what reneged meant. Maybe he was just a follower, his friend Cliff calling the shots of what they’d do and Remo blindly going along with it all. It wasn’t an excuse for what he’d done. At least he was only the guy who struggled to get Beth down the laneway. He wasn’t the one who blatantly injured her. Which was good for Remo or Marcus would injure him.
“Why did you come forward about this, Remo?” Marcus needed to know the guy’s motivation, if it was strong enough there’d be less chance of him backing out of the deal.
“Nigel Charlton shot my mate in front of me. Point blank range, straight to the head. There was so much blood…” Remo inhaled deeply, the hand resting near his partially empty coffee cup trembled. “Nigel hinted he might kill me next. I don’t want to die like Cliff did. I didn’t even get to say goodbye, you know. Some guy came and took Cliff’s body away and my clothes. I realized this was serious shit, that I’m not safe, so the first chance I got, I came here.”
That was some powerful motivation. Clearly, Remo valued his life. If only he’d valued the lives of the women Charlton had killed along the way, this case could have been over before it even began.
Chapter Fourteen
“Puffy-face, get over here and help me.” Beth exhaled an audible sigh as she walked over to the corner of the cell and grabbed hold of the large roll of black plastic wrap Nik handed her.
He’d given all three of them names. She was puffy-face, a name there would certainly be payback for once this was all over. Dalia was Miss-red-shirt and Cassie was Fancy-pants, aptly named after the jeans with diamante and silver studded embellishments that she wore. Both women appeared to have settled, no longer crying and were now sitting on the bedding rather than the floor.
Nik busied himself making a plastic room of sorts. A triangular affair, taking up one entire corner at the front of the cell, enclosing the small basin and toilet, set along the side wall. Once he’d finished constructing his masterpiece, Nik took the remainder of the roll from Beth and gruffly shooed her back to her cot. Telling her to sit. Nik left the cell briefly, returning with a large bin filled with an assortment of items.
“Listen carefully because I won’t be repeating myself.” He began unpacking the contents of the bin. “You will all go inside the plastic room, disrobe completely and place your items in these bags.”
Beth stifled a grin. Nik reminded her of a scarily macabre flight attendant. Indicating clearly to the black plastic space as he spoke, holding up the collection bags, and pointing to them before placing them on the cots near each woman. He’d marked each bag clearly, Puffy-face, Miss-Red-Shirt, Fancy-pants. Of course, the other women wouldn’t recognize them as evidence bags, Beth only knew from her time spent working with Marcus and the team.
“Here is an assortment of toiletry items.” Nik held up a shopping bag for them to see before placing it on the floor before them. He retrieved more bags from the bin before continuing. “Once you’ve freshened up, you will dress in these clothes. Exit the room and return to your cots where you can do each other’s make-up. Any questions?”
They all sat silently staring at Nik until Beth broke the silence, “And if we refuse?”
“Then I’ll have to strip you and dress you myself.” Nik paused, staring at each of them in turn, a wry smile edging his lips. “It’ll be like playing Barbie dolls, something I haven’t done since I was a kid.”
The statement and tone with which he delivered it sent a shiver down Beth’s spine. Even knowing he wasn’t a threat didn’t stop the shudder. Cassie burst into tears beside her, and Dalia looked like she might actually throw up. Still, both women stood, grabbed their bags and ran into the makeshift dressing room.
“Nice work, asshole,” Beth stated as she heard someone dry retching from behind the plastic.
“Just keeping it real, Puffy-face.”
Beth elbowed him in the gut as she pushed past on her way to join her fellow captives. It wasn’t nearly hard enough, but at least he’d get the idea she wasn’t happy with the name or the fact he’d just made her two new friends revert to panic-stricken messes.
When they emerged from getting dressed, Nik was nowhere to be seen. Beth placed their bagged clothes, along with the toiletries they’d used near the locked cell door and wandered over to investigate the makeup situation. He’d dressed them all in Halter-neck fifties style swing dresses. Someone thought this through. Her dress had deep pockets on either side. Large enough to conceal the weapon Nik provided her with on the first day of her capture, the fullness of the dress’s skirt hiding any visible evidence of the slimline Glock 19 Gen 4 handgun. If Marcus loaded it the way she normally did, then the magazine would house thirty-three rounds. Hopefully, enough for her to get the women to safety before running out of ammo. The shoes given to each of them were stylish but flat with a decent grip on the sole. Good for running in when they made their escape.
“I don’t know how we’re going to be able to hide the damage to your face with any of this,” Dalia spoke quietly as she assessed the makeup she’d tipped out onto the cot.
“What if we do our makeup first and think about Beth’s later,” Cassie recommended. “Let’s keep it simple. No use looking like movie stars if they’re only going to kill us later.”
As a tear trickled down the woman’s cheek, Beth hoped the makeup was waterproof, or Cassie would be more raccoon than beauty queen. Not that she blamed her for crying, even Beth felt the pervading sense of hopelessness permeating from each woman as time dragged on. The fact Nik hadn’t harmed them didn’t seem to matter. It was the sense of imminent danger they dwelled on, their warranted fear permeating the cell.
Even though Nik made sure he’d left them alone on occasions, giving Beth the chance to quietly reassure both women they’d get out, she couldn’t disclose
who she was or what was really happening for fear of blowing their covers. Telling them she’d figure something out, so they could all escape hadn’t proved that effective, but she kept verbalizing they’d all be fine in the hope it lifted their spirits somewhat. She also drilled into them they should be compliant where possible unless faced with imminent danger, citing her face as an example of what happened when you tried to fight these guys. Both women seemed convinced of that, at least.
Beth stared into the small round mirror Nik provided them. The makeup job wasn’t her best work, not that she wanted it to be. You can cover swelling with liquid foundation, but it didn’t conceal a thing. The reddish-purple bruising on her face was less visible, but her eye remained partially closed due to the puffiness, and a scab formed on the split of her lip from where Cliff had backhanded her. She wanted Marcus to see what they’d done, not to make him feel bad or anything, more so to trigger his temper in the hope he’d significantly damage Nigel Charlton or let her do it before this was over.
“I don’t understand why he wants us dressed up like this. Not that I don’t like the dress, it’s lovely but…” Cassie stroked her hand down the floral pattern of her dress, and Dalia nodded at the statement, staring down at the purple and black dotted design now covering her.
“And why did he build that plastic room if he was going to leave us alone to change?” Cassie asked.
“Because I’m a gentleman, and I’m not the only male who can see you.”
All three of them jumped at the sound of Nik’s deep voice. Beth hadn’t even heard the door open, but now he was inside, she realized where he’d been and why he’d left them for so long. He carried a tray containing four plastic bowls filled with spaghetti Bolognese and two foil-wrapped garlic bread. The smell was heavenly, and her stomach rumbled in eagerness. Until now, they’d eaten only pizza and sandwiches, so some decent food was a welcome relief.
“A gentleman wouldn’t keep three women locked in a cell,” Cassie stated as she accepted her bowl.
“He would if he was keeping them safe from the seven men on the other side of that door,” Nik’s reply was casual as he handed out the rest of the food, then stepped back, bracing himself against the bars to eat his meal. “Eat up, ladies. You need to keep your strength up.”
“Why?” Dalia asked. “All we’re doing is sitting in a cell.”
“You never know, Miss-Red-Shirt,” Nik stated coldly. “I might take my three little pets out for a run in a few hours. Fitness is an essential part of life.”
Beth grinned at the specificity of Nik’s responses. Seven other men were present in the building which meant Marcus and the team would easily outnumber them. As the cell was windowless, she found it hard to keep track of time. Nik’s statement “within the next few hours” clued her into the timeframe. Tonight was the night. They’d be free and hopefully, uninjured, very soon. His parting words as he tore down their makeshift dressing room made her shake her head.
“Of course, I will have to bind your hands and gag you all. Won’t that be fun?” The evil chuckle he gave as he carried everything from the cell made her shudder. Perhaps Nik was closer to the edge than any of them realized.
* * * *
Marcus drove down the access road toward the warehouse. It wouldn’t be long until Beth was back in his arms, then he’d never let her go. Hex sat by his side, clad in leather and armed to the back teeth, in case the purchase went wrong. Bringing his “security guard” was a pre-organized arrangement Marcus made with Nigel Charlton. The man agreed, citing one of the women was particularly feisty and would need to be sedated if he took possession of her alone. Marcus didn’t want Beth knocked out, he’d need her to help with the other women, ferrying them to safety once the chaos started. And it would start.
Some of Charlton’s men were on the premises. Eight in total, including Nigel and Nik. Nik was their secret weapon. He knew all the men, could get close to them under the guise of fighting back, then turn tail and take them down, ready for arrest. Remo, of course, was absent, had been for almost a day. He was the other secret weapon they held, having filled Marcus in on the procedure for how and where the men partied once the sale was complete. Tonight, however, Marcus planned on providing a party of a very different kind.
Marcus’ team was in position, ready to storm the warehouse on his go. Christian and the major crime squad were holding back, waiting for the action to start before moving in and arresting Charlton and his gang for crimes committed within the state. Murder and kidnapping for their boss and kidnapping for the crew. The Feds would then take over, nailing Charlton for trafficking and numerous other offenses under the Federal Crimes Act.
Marcus wanted this over and done with. He wanted Beth back, so he could apologize, sort out what to do from here. Be clearer about his intentions regarding their relationship because he wanted her in his life. All they needed to sort out was her role in the organization. Putting her in danger would never happen again, and she’d need to agree with that. If this mission taught him one thing, it was placing Beth in unwanted danger didn’t work for him. She’d remain an integral part of the team without becoming an endangered one.
“Position check,” Marcus stated the words from his seat in the back of the Audi Q7 and waited as each of his operatives responded. His men, stationed near every entry and exit point, confirmed their readiness to move once the exchange for Beth took place.
“Are we ready for action, Billy?”
“Good to go, Boss,” her voice sounded clearly in his earpiece. “Stay safe, guys.”
The coms they all wore served more than one purpose. Yes, it enabled communication, but with the secured wireless reach each device had, Billy could and did, record every word spoken by and to the team. This meant there was no need for Marcus or any of his team to wear an old-style wire. Something easily discoverable during a pat down. The com sat in the ear, hardly visible unless specifically checked for.
As instructed, Hex reversed the Audi into the loading dock. It was a rule of engagement they always followed. Be prepared—in the event things go pear-shaped—park facing the direction you intend to leave.
Marcus waited as Hex exited the car first.
“Gentlemen.” Marcus wondered at Hex’s choice of acknowledgment for the two men who’d walked out into the loading bay upon their arrival. His door opened, and he caught the subtle nod of Hex’s head, indicating a third man tucked behind a pallet on the far side of the open space.
Three men accounted for, where were the rest hiding?
“This way Mr. Belvoir,” The larger of the two men near the back entrance indicated him forward.
Marcus was a bit surprised there wasn’t a pat down or a request for weapons to be left at the door. The lax attitude worked for him, but it wouldn’t help Nigel’s team once his men stormed the place. It was safe to assume all Nigel’s men were carrying weapons, the only unconcealed firearm though was on the guy hiding rather ineffectually behind the pallets.
“Mr. Belvoir, how wonderful to finally meet you in person.” Since Nigel was the only contact he’d had with anyone here, Marcus assumed the reed-thin piece of shit scampering toward him with an extended hand was the man himself.
“Nigel Charlton, I assume.” Marcus clasped onto the hand offered, giving it a firm shake. “The feeling is mutual.”
It wasn’t, but who cared. The next time he saw the man would be under very different circumstances. Probably with heavy steel bars between them with this piece of shit looking considerably less conceited.
“Let’s make this quick,” Marcus demanded, not wanting to drag the evening out any longer than necessary.
Nigel seemed pleased they were getting straight down to business, leading him and Hex into a nicely appointed reception area at the front of the building. At least they appeared to be going to bring the girls to him rather than have Marcus go to the cells. From Red’s plan of the place, the cells were located on the far side of the building, down a long corridor with
only one entrance leading in and out. That scenario would make it harder to get all three women out safely because once they entered the corridor, there was no place to take cover. That meant they’d have to remain in the cells until the sting was complete with Nik their only line of defense against Nigel’s crew.
“How are the injuries healing for girl number one?” Marcus asked casually.
Nigel winced slightly before answering. “She’s coming along nicely although there is still some swelling. We’ve been taking good care of her because I know she’s your preferred option. I hope you’re able to look past the injury to see the beauty beneath. I was mortified when my men collected her. The poor girl. If nothing else, I feel like we’ve rescued her from an intolerable situation. I’m sure if you go ahead and acquire her, she’ll have a much better life.”
Marcus maintained eye contact as Nigel feigned concern over Beth. What a creep. He was beginning to wish Albert Fairchild had given the order for a hit on Nigel. The little bug deserved squashing out as did the roaches who worked for him.
After making himself comfortable in one of the leather Chesterfield’s on offer, he withdrew a cigar from his jacket and lit up. Urged on by the disapproving look on his host’s face, he exhaled a hefty plume of smoke in Nigel’s direction.
“Well then,” Marcus gestured toward Nigel, “let’s see them.”
Making himself at home the way he did served a few purposes. It told Nigel he expected the women to come to him, just in case that wasn’t Nigel’s plan. Additionally, Marcus had put Nigel in his place. He’d taken charge of this operation, and Nigel would follow where he led.
“Go inform Nik we’re ready for the girls, would you?” Nigel didn’t use his man’s name as he settled in the matching Chesterfield adjacent to Marcus. Not that it mattered, Marcus would know who they all were soon enough.
Hex took up position on the left side of the reception area doorway, not far from where Marcus now sat. When Nik escorted Beth and the other two girls into the room, Marcus assumed Nik would position himself to the right of the room, guarding the doorway leading from Nigel’s office. That would make the room secure, giving team Marcus a four to two advantage over Nigel and his guy. No-one would get in or out unless Marcus wanted them to.
