by Peter Darley
By the time the alcohol had taken hold of him, all care had been pushed to the back of his mind. When he became barely conscious of it becoming a little excessive, he didn’t want to confront it. He simply drank the concern away.
Gradually, he became increasingly dysfunctional. He’d jeopardized their mission to be reunited with Emily, failing her in her darkest hour. Then he’d been forced to confront the horrors of withdrawal.
Now he was coming through it, but one disagreement with the one to whom he owed so very much, and his killer instinct returned. He had never felt so torn. He was damned if he drank and damned if he didn’t. A question pounded in his mind: what was it going to take for him to defeat both the bottle, and his inner demon?
The first rays of daylight coursed into the bedroom. Brandon had been asleep for several hours, fatigued by his own tumultuous thoughts. He started to stir, alerted by movement on the bed beside him—and whispering.
He turned over and opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he adjusted to the light. Belinda was sitting on the edge of the bed. Tyler sat next to her holding her hand looking concerned.
“Good morning,” Brandon said, and yawned. “Is everything all right?”
“Hey, bro,” Tyler said. “I’m not sure. Belinda’s not looking too great.”
Instantly awoken by his brother’s words, he sat up. He moved around the bed to see her face was pallid. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t think anything’s really wrong,” she said. “I’ve felt like this for the last few mornings, and now I’m pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure what?”
She touched his cheek tenderly and smiled with a hint of sadness. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Brandon . . . I think I’m pregnant.”
Tyler’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh, my God.”
Brandon held her other hand, her words having struck him like a thunderbolt. The one thought that went through his mind was the last question he’d asked himself before he’d finally fallen asleep. What would it take for him to overcome his issues?
In an instant, he knew he’d just been provided with the answer.
Thirty-Five
Siren
Brandon, Belinda, and Tyler sat at Miranda’s kitchen table eating a basic breakfast of cereal and coffee. The morning’s revelation had shaken them all.
Miranda returned to the table with a fresh pot of coffee.
“Thank you,” Tyler said. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this, Miranda.”
“It’s a pleasure. Is there anything I can do for you, Belinda? Pregnancy isn’t something I’ve had much experience with.”
Belinda looked up at her with an appreciative smile. “Me neither.”
Brandon turned to Belinda. “I want you to take it easy. Ty and I will do what needs to be done. You just lay low, and don’t do anything to exert yourself.”
“I’m a few weeks pregnant at best,” she said. “I’m not an invalid, so quit treating me like one. I’m more concerned about the future, with everything that’s going on right now. What the hell kind of a world are we bringing this baby into?”
Brandon opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the doorbell.
“Just give me a moment.” Miranda placed the fresh coffee on the table and briskly left the room.
She opened the front door, surprised to see Tamara and a stranger. She could tell the other woman was extremely attractive, even underneath a straw hat and sunglasses, and knew this could be the news her guests had been waiting for. “Tam. What a surprise. Come on in. Who’s your friend?”
The young brunette removed the sunglasses and hat, and held her hand out to Miranda. “Hi. I’m Nicole. Nikki to my friends.”
“Well, it’s good to meet you.”
Miranda led the two women along the corridor.
Nicole gestured at the curious décor. “You’re a dominatrix?”
Miranda shrugged, unabashed. “It pays the rent and beats working for a living.”
“Interesting.”
They entered the living room. “They’re in the kitchen,” Miranda said.
Brandon stood in the kitchen doorway facing them.
Nicole froze. “Oh, my God.” She slowly moved toward him, almost as an adoring fan would approach a rock star. Or even a deity. It was clear from the look in her eyes that he represented the closest thing to hope she’d ever known. She glanced back at Miranda. “Is it really him?”
Brandon seemed overawed by her reaction. There was discomfort apparent in him, as though he didn’t feel her optimism was founded. “Ma’am, I’m Brandon.”
“I know. I just can’t believe it.”
“What’s your name?”
Tears came to her eyes. “Nikki. Nikki Hawke.”
Brandon walked over to her and instinctively held her. “Hey, hey. It’s OK.”
Belinda and Tyler entered the living room from the kitchen. Belinda stopped in her tracks at the sight of Brandon holding another woman. The memory of how she’d broken down in his arms in the cabin after he’d rescued her on that first night, flashed before her. No matter how irrational her feelings might be, she was stricken with a stab of jealousy.
Nikki broke the embrace and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes with her denim sleeve.
“Look, everybody take a seat,” Miranda said. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee, but we’re gonna need more. Just give me a minute.”
“Thank you, Mir.” Tamara turned to Brandon. “Mr. Drake, I’m Tamara Quinn.”
“Yeah, Miranda told us all about you. It’s good to meet you, and we really appreciate you helping us.”
Tyler stepped in and introduced himself to Tamara and Nikki. Belinda did likewise before they all sat down in the living room.
“Tamara,” Brandon said, “Miranda told us you may be able to get a lead on where we can locate someone who knows the location of Sapphire’s organization.”
“What kind of arsenal do you have?” Nikki said with an assertive tone.
“We have the arsenal, but we’re hoping we won’t have to use it,” Tyler said. “I have a plan to do it more subtly. We just need certain information first.”
“What do you have planned?”
“We’ll get to that. But first we need you to help us find this Siren character. Does she really exist?”
Nikki held herself still for a moment. She then looked to Tamara who gave her an affirmative nod. Finally, she turned back to Tyler. “I am Siren.”
Miranda almost dropped the pot of coffee as she re-entered the room. “What?”
“I’m Siren.”
Miranda turned to Tamara, clearly vexed. “And after all that bullshit you spun to me about her being a myth? After looking me in the eye and telling me you’d have to email one person after another?”
Tamara held up her hand pacifistically. “Calm down, Mir. I promised Nikki I’d keep her secret and not tell a soul. You’ve got to understand, her life is in danger. If Sapphire had an inkling of where she was, he’d have her killed. Hell, if they knew that I knew, they’d take me out too.”
“All right, already,” Tyler said. “Nikki, the floor is yours. Why don’t you tell us what you know?”
Nikki exhaled and collected herself. “Five years ago, I was a singer. I was raised in Minnesota, but I wanted to make a name for myself, so I headed for L.A. I met a guy in a bar in Tucson. He was attractive and charming. He said he wanted to help me because he had friends in the music business. I guess I believed him because I wanted to. I was a fool.”
“What was his name?”
“Fabian. Fabian Rodriguez.”
Tyler, Brandon, and Belinda looked at one another ominously.
“Go on,” Tyler said.
“He took me to L.A. with him.” Nikki closed her eyes, clearly stifling her tears. “They kept me drugged. I think I was raped countless times, but it’s a haze. I wa
s doped up most of the time. And then, the day of the auction came.”
Belinda gasped at the thought of what Nikki must have suffered, recalling her experience with Payne. He’d been a mere micro-second away from raping her before Brandon returned to save her.
“What happened at the auction, Nikki?” Tyler said.
“Sapphire appeared from an unknown location on a screen behind the stage. He was hosting the auction like a TV game show. He’s black, probably of Afro-Caribbean origin, but definitely American judging from his accent. He had dreadlocked hair and a sapphire in place of one of his upper front teeth. I suppose that’s how he got his nickname.”
Belinda noticed Nikki’s hands trembling as she described him.
“Somebody bought you?” Brandon said.
“Yes. I was sold for one hundred thousand dollars to a Libyan nationalist. That’s when I got my lucky break.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was driven away in a limousine with the buyer. Sapphire had only recently taken over the L.A. underground, but the rival drug lords and pimps were hungry to regain their territory. About two miles from Sapphire’s base, the limo was attacked. Machine-gun fire, the whole nine yards. The driver and the asshole who bought me were killed instantly, and the car overturned.”
Tyler’s eyebrows rose. “How did you get out?”
“It was a miracle I survived, but there was a lot of commotion. The door on my side of the limo was open so I tried to crawl out. Thinking there were no survivors, the pimps and drug lords must have headed past the limo to intercept the next car.”
Finally, Tamara spoke. “It was my only chance too.”
“Your only chance?” Brandon said.
“Yes. I was a street hooker.”
Nikki placed an affectionate hand on Tamara’s. “The limo was already on fire, and Tamara pulled me out. Together, we escaped just in time before it exploded. Me from Sapphire, and Tam from her pimp.”
“Oh, my God, Tam,” Miranda said. “You were involved in this? Isn’t your pimp still looking for you?”
Tamara shook her head. “He’s dead. Immediately after the ambush, all of the pimps in that area were massacred by Sapphire’s goons.”
Nikki continued. “I’ve been on the run ever since that day, moving from state to state. Another town, another name. Anything to keep myself hidden. They know my name because they took all my identification. I can’t even contact my family to tell them I’m all right. As far as my mom and dad are concerned, I just disappeared.” Her eyes welled up again. “Sapphire took everything from me. My whole life.”
“We’re going to put a stop to this, Nikki,” Brandon said. “But we need your help.”
“I know they have your sister. What are you gonna do?”
“I’m gonna try to infiltrate the organization and buy my sister,” Tyler said. “But I need to know who to hook up with.”
“That’s impossible. It would cost you a fortune.”
He smiled. “I have a fortune.”
“How so?”
“My father is the founder of a multi-national conglomerate, and I’m his chief investment specialist. We’re talking billions of dollars. It’s the perfect cover.”
“I’ll be handling the strong-arm stuff if anything goes wrong,” Brandon said.
Nikki looked at him with uncertainty. “You alone?”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I have access to tech and weaponry these guys couldn’t even imagine.”
“Well, after seeing the stories about you on the news, I’m inclined to believe you. But what about the others?”
“Others?”
“The other victims. It’s not just young women in there, but little children too. They sell kids to international perverts.”
Tyler swallowed hard. “Once I’ve been there, I’ll have all the information I need to take to the authorities. That’s why it’s essential I look like the real deal to them. We can’t afford for anybody to suspect anything.”
Nikki turned away with devastation in her eyes. “The authorities aren’t going to do anything. Sapphire has been in L.A. for over five years, and they haven’t lifted a finger.”
“One way or another, we’re going to take them down, Nikki,” Brandon said.
“So, how would I get close to them?” Tyler said. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Nobody joins the auctions on a whim,” she said. “You have to be invited into the fold.”
“So, where do I go to get them to notice me?”
“During the three weeks I was being held at Sapphire’s base, I heard one word repeatedly. Citadel.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a high-stakes card room in L.A. I’m pretty sure the guy who owns it has connections to Sapphire.”
A wry smile crept from Tyler’s mouth.
“Did I say something amusing?” Nikki said.
“Very. Casinos and card rooms are where I’m in my element. I have a long history with them around the globe. Poker, Baccarat, Blackjack, you name it. I play them all. This is already panning out better than I expected.”
“That’s lucky,” Miranda said.
“Alrighty, it’s settled. I’ll get on it right away.”
Belinda noticed Nikki’s gaze lingering on Tyler, and the glint in his eyes showed her attraction to him was reciprocated.
“We’ve got to keep our minds on what we’re doing,” Brandon said, dampening the moment. “Nikki, I need you to tell me—where is Sapphire’s base?”
“Do you have a map?”
“I’ve got a map upstairs. I’ll go get it,” Miranda said.
“I’ll point it out to you,” Nikki said. “It’s on the docks. From the outside, it looks like a deserted fish factory, but on the inside, on the lower floors, it’s lavish.”
As Brandon watched Miranda scale the steps, he pondered the information Nikki had provided. He was already gaining an insight into what he may be facing. Nevertheless, he needed to know more about the location and the security measures Sapphire had in place.
One troubling thought played over in his mind. Why haven’t the police made a move on this outfit?
Thirty-Six
City of Angels
Andrew Wilmot and Cynthia Garrett made their way up the front entrance to the headquarters of the Los Angeles Police Department.
Wilmot’s cell phone rang. Noting the caller’s ID, he wasn’t pleased to be bothered at that precise moment, but answered it, nonetheless. “Yeah, what is it?”
Deborah Beaumont’s professional tone came through the earpiece. “I received an email from Director Brenham. He was asking about your whereabouts. You’ve been away from Langley for three days. What should I tell him?”
“Tell him the truth. It’s believed Brandon Drake may be in Los Angeles, and I’m looking into it. Garrett’s with me at LAPD headquarters.”
“I’ve been trying to reach you all day. I’ll send the director an email.”
“You do that.” Abruptly ending the call, he placed the palm of his hand in the small of Garrett’s back. “Come on. Let’s see what we can find out.”
They stepped inside the basketball-court-sized reception area and approached the front desk.
A balding, middle-aged desk sergeant greeted them. “Yes, sir? Ma’am?”
Wilmot and Garrett produced their identification cards. “SDT Director Wilmot and Agent Cynthia Garrett to see Commissioner Landis,” Wilmot said.
A smartly-suited, bespectacled man in his early fifties emerged from a long corridor to their right. “Yes, Director Wilmot. I’m Jason Landis. We spoke on the phone.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Wilmot offered his hand.
“Please, follow me.”
Landis led them through the main processing area and X-ray detection unit. A spattering of officers walked across the area in pursuit of their tasks. Others escorted suspects in handcuffs toward the custody area.
Wilmot and Garrett followed Landis b
ack along the corridor and into an elevator.
Arriving at the third floor, they walked along another sprawling corridor until they came to Landis’ office door.
They entered a spacious room, which was in somewhat of a disarray. Pages spread across the desk showed Landis was overcome with paperwork.
Wilmot had done his homework on the commissioner prior to leaving for L.A. Landis had risen through the ranks of the police since joining the LAPD at the age of twenty, leading to a further twenty years of dedicated service. It ultimately led to him becoming the Chief of Police, until seven years ago when he was appointed to the position of commissioner. Now, at fifty-six, the years were clearly beginning to take their toll on him, as evidenced by the deep bags under his eyes.
“So, Director Wilmot. What can I do for you? And please, take a seat.” Landis gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.
“Thank you,” Wilmot said. “Recently, two of my operatives, Agents Kerwin and Rhodes, had a discussion with your Chief of Police, Jarred Tepper, about a human trafficking organization, and a character known as Sapphire.”
Landis loosened his collar and sat down. “I’m aware of that, and there’s really nothing more I can say to you on the matter. This department is fully aware of the major vice in this town, where it operates, and who operates it. We have no reason to believe Sapphire is anything more than myth.”
“What makes you so sure of that?”
“If a powerful sex slavery outfit was operating on our own doorstep, we’d know about it.”
Wilmot smiled condescendingly. “Our interest in this is related to another matter altogether. We’re gathering intelligence on one particular individual, and we believe if we can locate Sapphire, we can locate our quarry.”
Landis leaned forward, showing a curious degree of enthusiasm. “May I ask who it is you’re investigating?”
