by Trisha Wolfe
And now, she’s putting herself in danger to correct them.
“Wait—what’s that?” Sadie zeros in on the masked man restraining the girl. She’s shivering and crying, and where Sadie enlarges the angle, I see a syringe in his hand.
Shit. I swivel my chair around to face Colton. “Earpiece?”
His eyebrows hike. “I guess it’s safe to give it back to you now.” He digs into his pocket and produces the earbud he jacked when I lost control. Maybe it’s best he did. Once this is over, I don’t want the memory of Carson’s hands on Avery…or anything else that transpired.
It’s already going to be hard enough to curb the impulse to break Carson’s face every time I see him.
I stuff the bud into my ear just as a high-pitched whine bleeds into our feed. We rear back from the feedback. Then, a deep, garbled voice booms from the main speakers.
“Thank you for joining me this evening.”
Sadie and I exchange glances. “The Alpha,” we nearly say in unison.
“We’re still recording?” I ask.
She confirms before the distorted voice continues. “I pride myself that this is much more than the average auction, and I’m prepared to demonstrate this fact.”
On the monitor, the masked man raises the syringe and inserts the needle into the thrashing woman’s arm. Within seconds, she’s calm. Docile. Accepting her predicament. My stomach roils with vitriol at the display.
“Trifecta, gentlemen,” the Alpha says. “With every purchase tonight, you’ll receive a sample, and the means to set up a year’s supply of this revolutionary drug that’s going to change the industry.”
The camera pans closer to the woman, deliberately highlighting her rapid-changing demeanor. I’ve seen this before. I experienced it with Avery. And fuck—I want nothing more than to punch through the monitor and rip the Alpha’s throat out.
The woman touches herself, her moan sounding pained. She grinds against the masked man and claws at his jacket. She strips her panties away and begins gratifying herself…
I look away.
“What would you pay to own a never-sated slave? Hungry for you every second of the day?” The Alpha pauses for a beat. “As you can see, a drug in such demand couldn’t possibly have a price tag. It’s simply priceless. But everything must have a price. Choose yours.”
Then the Alpha’s robotic voice fades out, and all that remains is a victimized woman on the screen.
Immediately, the buyers start to bid. Below the projection screen, an underscored box lights up with numbers rapidly ascending into the thousands.
“Hell.” Sadie’s breathless curse conveys exactly what we’re witnessing. Hell.
And that’s precisely where we’re going to send the Alpha.
After the initial purchase of the first woman, the auction moves along quickly, and at the very least, no other woman has to suffer the Trifecta demonstration she endured.
“Larkin’s giving Carson the go-ahead to place a bid on the fourth girl,” Sadie says, pressing her finger to her earpiece.
Larkin’s voice comes in over the feed. “Bid now,” he tells Carson. On the monitor, through Alexis’s camera, we watch Carson push a button on the table before him.
Carson just needs to purchase one girl for us to be in. And he needs to do it without raising any alarms. The Alpha used Lark and Gannet’s resources to vet the buyers, and we built an identity for Carson based on facts—but we indulged upon those facts. Carson being the department leak actually did work in our favor.
Now, all he has to do is keep his cool and place the winning bid, and the Alpha will be within our reach.
“The man to his left—” Sadie checks her tablet with the list of buyers already identified “—Judge Ramos is putting up a fight for this girl.” She glances at me. “Is it believable that Carson can actually afford a hundred grand?”
That’s what the bid is about to reach. “Yeah, it is,” I say. “Larkin transferred just over that into his account today. Made it look like a series of deposits over the past year.” I shake my head. “Looks like being a weasily leak pays off.”
Sadie releases a clipped breath. “You’re never going to let him live this down, are you?”
“What do you think?”
Her strained smile is a beacon amid the tension. And for just a moment, it feels like I have the old Sadie back—the profiler who grated on my nerves, but who I could always count on. Maybe that never changed. But when you uncover someone’s darkest secrets, you just can’t go back to the way things were.
“The judge is out,” Sadie says as she focuses on the auction. “Carson’s in at just over a hundred thousand. Holy shit.”
Holy shit is right. Carson doesn’t get to actually keep any of the money, and the actual transaction will never take place—but I’m sure he’s feeling the pressure at having just bid away a small fortune.
“He stayed cool,” Colton says. “Gotta be a difficult thing to pull off for a gambling addict.” His gaze flicks to me, and yes—I get it. Everyone is being tested tonight.
Not just me.
“It appears they’re moving into the finale,” Larkin says into the feed. Three women are brought before the camera, the bags over their heads yanked away. We haven’t been able to identify any of the women, but if we pull this off, not a single one of them will be sold.
After a short rundown on each of the girls’ stats—virgin, pure, blond, brunette—the masked man places his hand over the first girl’s head, and the bids light up.
“Why are they suddenly rushing?” Sadie asks, looking at the monitor with the hopping transmitted signal.
“Someone else is tracing the signal,” Jefferson says. “And whoever it is, isn’t as stealthy as us. They must know.”
Damn. But there’s no time to route the attack. By the time the last girl is sold, the screen inside The Firm goes dark.
My back locks taut as we await the Alpha’s next move. Come on. Come on.
Larkin moves onto the platform, and my jaw sets, every muscle corded tight. “Gentlemen, that concludes the auction.” Five men wearing black ski masks appear from the other side of the penthouse and stand at the platform.
My lungs refuse to take a breath.
“Please remain seated as our friends here distribute your buyer cards with generated purchases,” Larkin says.
“Trackers going out,” Sadie confirms, checking the signal.
Each card has a transmitter chip that we’ll use to track. It was a stipulation of the Alpha, which Larkin and I decided to exploit. Using his own system against him.
“Once you have your card, please head toward the elevator,” Larkin instructs. “You’ll now be paired in groups, and each group will have one of these fine gentlemen escort you to the pick-up location for your purchase.”
That’s our cue. We’re up and collecting our gear as Larkin disappears behind the screen.
“I’ve done my part,” Larkin whispers to us. “Good luck.”
His connection is terminated.
I stare at the monitor, my chest tight as I watch Avery prepare to go dark.
“Avery,” I say. “It’s almost over. Stay strong. I’m right behind you.”
She can’t respond, but she touches her left arm, giving me her signal that she’s all right. The tension coiling my body releases just a bit, then I watch her stealthily remove the earbud and tuck it between the cushions of the couch before she follows Carson toward the elevator.
As we suspected, the masked men begin an inspection of the buyers, making sure they’re clear of any weapons and recording devices, like phones. Carson and Avery pass inspection, but that means they’re going into the next stage blind.
We all are. I no longer have a link to Avery.
“Jefferson, stay here and keep on that signal,” I say. “Just in case—”
He confirms before I complete my thought. Just in case we lose them. That isn’t an option. We all know at any point, the Alpha could change gears, have the buy
ers toss the cards, switch course. But we just need to be headed in the right direction…
“We’re ready.” Sadie’s gaze captures mine, a hint of a question there.
“Ready,” I answer.
We’re ready to go in and pull off the biggest bust I’ve ever been a part of with only three officers of the law and one civilian.
But it’s what’s on the line that assures we will succeed.
Carson and Avery are traveling to the pick-up destination with Judge Ramos and the CEO of a software company. And their chauffeur, one of the masked cronies.
I drive while Sadie tracks their movement through the outskirts of Arlington on her tablet.
“They’re slowing,” she says, and I pull back. “Just keep at a steady speed until I confirm they’ve turned.”
After a few tense moments, she directs me onto a road leading toward an abandoned warehouse. My hands slick against the steering wheel, my adrenaline climbs.
“We get Avery out before—”
“We will,” Sadie assures. “Don’t worry, Quinn. Carson knows the drill. He’ll have her out of harms way first.”
A flashback of the mission to rescue Avery from the sailboat barrels to the front of my mind. The waiting, my insides sick with anxiety every torturous second that passed. The pressure building right before we went in. The fear of not finding her alive…
I drive the thoughts away. She’s not a hostage. She’s a part of the mission, and she’s strong. She was strong then, and she’s even stronger now.
And then there’s no more time for reflection as I glimpse a blacked out warehouse up ahead. No one talks. We’ve gone over the plan—over and over. We all know the drill.
There’s only one aspect of this operation that remains undecided.
Whether it will be me or Sadie that pulls the trigger to take out the Alpha.
I have a feeling she’s going to move first. Some kind of vigilante bullshit where she presumes she’ll be protecting me—keeping me from committing an act that will haunt me for years to come.
I’ve wrestled with this very thing. If there’s no imminent threat—can I kill in cold blood?
Avery’s picture is virtually burned into my retinas, I’ve stared at it so long. I need to see that carefree woman once again. I want to be the one who makes her safe.
Imminent threat: I guess that’s defined by the person who’s being threatened.
Avery will never be safe if the Alpha lives.
His connections run too deep, his reach extends too far. We’re operating below the department’s radar because we don’t even know how far that reach goes. How high up.
I’ve made my choice. I made it the first night I held Avery’s hand in the hospital.
She’s mine to protect.
I park in a heavily shrouded section of the gravel parking lot. The cars that transported the buyers here from the Skylark are parked up close, the buyers already inside the warehouse.
I unclip my holster and pull my gun free, then unlock the safety. I hear the decocker click to my right, Sadie prepared. She turns around to see Colton doing the same.
An unspoken countdown commences, and we exit the car on the beat of three and jog toward the warehouse.
The trill of crickets and brush of wind through the pines are the only sounds accompanying us as we advance. Once we’re in place, backs to the building, the faint muffle of voices bleeds through the metal wall.
The side roll door has been left open, and I motion in that direction. I lead us around the building, conscious of the gravel with each step. We stop every few feet and listen. Then proceed.
Halting near the metal beam of the roll door, I raise my hand, hold it steady, waiting for Carson’s signal.
The low voices inside die down, the warehouse stills. A creak of a door, then the distinct, distorted voice we heard during the auction. Carson doesn’t have to warn us; the Alpha is here.
I drop my hand.
We rush in.
There’s an ephemeral moment of dread, suspending time around me in a morbid limbo, until I lock on to Carson rushing Avery toward the side of the warehouse. Fractions of a second. Those split atoms of time can last an agonizing eternity.
I breathe. Time speeds up. Instinct kicks in.
I shout, “Hands in the air!”
My voice ricochets around the building. The echo bounces back at me before the chaos hits. “On the ground! On the ground!”
Several of the civilian buyers hit the floor, the others break out into a run. I drop to the floor. Sadie and Colton follow suit and hit the ground as the first bullet rings out.
I sight my gun on the perp opening fire and pull the trigger, taking out his calf. He drops and grabs his leg. I’m already locking on to the next perp before his scream recoils against the gunfire.
“Stop!”
And just as suddenly as the shooting began, it ends. The masked men pull back their weapons. My breathing ragged, I try to steady my breaths so I can hear past the ringing in my ears.
I scan the back of the warehouse and quickly assess the numbers. Nine suited men scattered against the ground and side of the warehouse. Four masked men: three standing guard around seven huddled women, one wounded on the floor. Carson and Avery are safely out of sight. Then one shadowed figure steps forward.
“Freeze!” I shout.
The person halts, but only a moment before they leisurely progress closer. “I’m unarmed,” he says. The voice is no longer obscure. “I’m sure we can work this out without any more bloodshed.”
“Tell your men to drop their weapons and kick them forward,” I order.
The man steps into the beam of moonlight streaming from outside. “You heard the officer,” he says. “Lower your weapons and kick them forward.”
His men do on command. The clatter of guns hitting the floor all in unison sets my jaw. As soon as the weapons are out of reach, I glance behind me, taking Sadie and Colton into account. They’re uninjured.
I get to one knee, keeping my gun aimed on the man in a black suit, and then rise to my feet. “You’re in charge of this operation?”
Hands held aloft, he maintains the smirk on his face. A face I’ve never seen before, but that could be any face in a crowd. His black hair is slicked back, neatly cropped. His gold jewelry glints in the moonlight. His smooth features denote youth, but he shows no fear of the gun pointed at his head.
“I am,” he says, his voice dropping low. “And I assume you’re the one in charge of your operation—” he nods to the three of us “—and I assume because you’re not backed by a task force or the FBI, then you’ve come here as part of your own agenda.”
My hand grips the gun tighter. My finger braced over the trigger.
I hear the decock of a gun; a bullet chambered. The click resounds loudly in the still room. It’s not my gun; it’s Sadie’s.
Now or never. If I don’t pull the trigger, she will.
“No argument there, I see.” He tilts his head. “So tell me, what do you want? Money? Women?” He looks over his shoulder at the girls before finding my gaze again. “Advancement in your career. Name it. I promise, I can make it happen.”
There’s only one way for him to give me what I want. I curl my finger over the trigger…
“I want your name,” I demand.
His dark eyes stare into mine. “I go by many.” A smile lights his face. “You won’t find Dorian McGregor on any of your wanted lists, but it’s the one I choose to go by most often. I promise, I’m a man of my word. Anything you want, I can make happen. Name your price.”
I don’t blink. I look him right in his eyes as I squeeze…
“Lower the weapon!”
My finger halts mid-pull, my hand trembles with restraint, and I know this is my last chance—
“I said, lower the gun, Detective Quinn.” I recognize the voice. In my peripheral, I spot Agent Bell moving into the center of the warehouse.
The sound of booted feet trampling
the scene reverberates through the building as the Feds raid the warehouse. A ruckus of shouts and collection of weapons and apprehending the masked men…all while I still have my sight laser-focused on the Alpha.
“Quinn.” Her voice is steady, calm. “You’re better than this. It’s over. Lower your gun and let’s bring him in. The right way.”
I release the trigger and pull back my gun. A searing breath grips my lungs as I suck it down. Then I force my eyes away from the Alpha. I look at Special Agent Bell as the Alpha is taken to the ground and handcuffed.
“You used me,” I say to her. “You used my department.”
Her eyes widen with a hint of remorse, but I doubt she feels any at all. Her career is made. She gets the fame of bringing down the head of a criminal network.
She sighs as she reaches into her jacket pocket and brings out the phone she gave me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d put together a side op or not,” she says. “But when I tracked the phone and discovered it stowed in one of the perp’s vehicles…” She shrugs. “Good evasive tactic. You did have a couple of my agents chasing this phone around the city for a few hours.”
I’d hoped for longer than a few. I had Carson dump the phone in one of the perp’s cars our uniforms were tailing. It was reasonable to believe that I’d keep close watch over the two perps who we busted in the body transport van. Eventually, they might’ve led us to the Alpha.
But we didn’t have time to wait.
I just needed Bell and the Feds off my case and away from Lark and Gannet.
“So it was the Feds hacking the transmitted auction signal.” I holster my gun. “You could’ve gotten someone hurt, or killed. You almost blew the whole thing.”
Bell turns to watch the agents begin reciting the buyers their rights, then she swings her gaze to me. “Guilty as charged. You’re not the only one with inside intel, detective. I’ve had my eye on McGregor for a while. The tip about the auction came from a protected source.”
She steps closer. “We had it covered. No one was in immediate danger. I know somewhere deep down, you knew the right thing to do was to call me. And even though you never did…subconsciously, you wanted it to happen this way.”
I shake my head. I fucking hate psychobabble bullshit. “I think the phone taking a scenic tour around town speaks for itself. You should’ve been transparent with my department on who you were investigating from the start.”
