by Taylor Lee
With a flick of the silver lighter, he lit the Senator’s cigar, then his own. Quietly puffing on his cigar until it was drawing steadily, Rafe settled back in his chair, a cloud of fragrant smoke masking his half-closed eyes. Nicki sucked in a shaky breath watching the careful ritual play out. She was struck by Rafe’s easy elegance. Every movement was lazy, yet controlled. A symphony of orchestrated notes until he reached the self-imposed end of his carefully composed prelude. Never missing a beat, he turned to the unsuspecting Senator who at the moment appeared relaxed, lulled by Rafe’s deceptive hospitality.
Crossing his legs and flicking a nonexistent ash from the sharp crease on his trousers, Rafe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. They were as hard, as cool as his words.
“What do you need from me, Senator?
The Senator started. Dusky red flooded his cheeks. In one sentence Rafe shifted the balance of power, clarifying the true nature of their relationship. Now the gloves were off. All the rest had been foreplay. From this minute forward the unwritten rules of the game were clear. The Senator was in trouble. And much as he hated to admit it, he did need Rafe. Badly.
Chapter 2
“It’s Hillary, my daughter. She…she’s gone.”
“How long?” Rafe’s voice was soft, calm.
“Since…since Monday.”
“Hmm. Five days?”
“Yes.” A note of anger crept into the Senator’s voice. “Her mother is worried sick.”
“I see. And you’re not?”
The Senator scowled. “I wasn’t. Not at first. Now, I’m beginning to wonder. If it’s more than one of her usual pranks. Trying to get my attention.”
“Have you notified the police?”
The Senator shuddered, running his hands over his stylishly coiffed hair.
“God, no! Jesus, man, you know how “discreet” the police are. The D.C., department is a fucking sieve. It wouldn’t be two hours before the press was all over it.”
Rafe studied the agitated man in front of him. The Senator’s face was flushed, a sheen of sweat marked his brow. But it was anger not concern that radiated from the previously contained politician. Rafe kept his tone cool, bordering on casual. He didn’t want to incite the Senator. He could learn more from the Senator if he could get him to drop his mask.
“How old is Hillary?”
“Seventeen.” Chambers added with a harsh grunt, “Going on thirty, if you know what I mean.” He gave Rafe a quick glance. Rafe saw the contempt in his eyes. Contempt, for his own daughter? Or more likely for women in general. The Senator was a “user”, a known philanderer. His sly glance confirmed he thought he saw a kindred spirit in Rafe. Just one more reason to despise the guy, Rafe thought, disgust churning in his gut.
Rafe puffed thoughtfully on his cigar.
“You mentioned her previous behavior. Has this happened before? Has your underage daughter ‘left’ for days at a time without letting you or your wife know where she is?”
The senator snapped, dispensing with his usual civility.
“Look, Boudin. You can cut the sarcastic crap. You know what I’m dealing with here. You know damn well the implications for my political career of an incident like this. The press would pillory me with it. Hillary is outrageous. Uncontrollable. It’s been one episode after another. All for the purpose of embarrassing me.”
He went on, sneering. “Apparently the finest education, a clothes budget that exceeds the average income of a middle class six person family, plus potentially being the daughter of the President of the United States isn’t enough for my ungrateful spawn.”
Senator Chambers grimaced then his expression hardened further. He shifted in his chair and pinned Rafe with a fierce glare.
“Let’s be clear, Boudin. The reason I’m here is because this could be a public relations disaster. There’s no telling what mess my daughter has gotten herself into now. But one word of this latest prank of hers hits the press and you won’t get a dime!”
Rafe leaned forward and tapped his cigar into the ashtray in front of him. Settling back in his chair he returned the fuming man’s gaze.
“Indeed, Senator. Let us be clear. First, I have not agreed to take your case. If I do, and that will depend on a number of factors, I make the rules, you don’t. Since you seem concerned about the financial aspects of our potential arrangement, let’s address that issue before we discuss the obvious safety concerns for your young daughter. My fee is $500,000.” At the Senator’s gasp, Rafe puffed on his cigar, then continued.
“The first $250,000 is due before you leave tonight and is non-refundable. The remaining $250,000 is due when we return your daughter to you. Plus expenses, of course.”
Purplish red splotches stained the Senator’s cheeks. His voice was thick with outrage. He blustered, “You’ve got to be joking! That’s insane. A half a million dollars to find a spoiled brat who’s likely holed up somewhere high on coke with a bunch of low-life social climbers who would like nothing better than to knock up the daughter of a sitting United States Senator?”
Rafe shrugged. “It’s your choice, Senator Chambers. Those are my terms. My additional terms are that you and your wife open your doors to me and my team and that you answer every question we ask no matter how personal. You came to me for a reason, Senator. I’m not yet clear what that is. From what you’ve said, you value discretion above all else. In addition to discretion, ISA is effective. If I decide to help you, we’ll find your daughter, Senator Chambers. On my terms, not yours.”
He leaned forward and ground out his cigar. Unwinding his lean frame from the overstuffed chair, Rafe walked to the desk against the far wall. He removed a Mont Blanc pen from the inside pocket of his jacket and took a pad of paper from the drawer. Scribbling on it, he tore off the top sheet.
He folded the paper and handed it to the Senator.
“Both of these men are excellent private investigators. They charge a tenth of what I do. Given your description of the situation, their skills are adequate for the job. And both men are discreet. I recommend that you put your staff on the public relation components. I’m confident they have a wealth of experience maintaining your public image without letting the details of your private life sully that façade.”
The Senator reared up. He looked apoplectic. The vein in his temple throbbed dangerously. Rafe’s fighter instincts kicked in. The Senator looked ready to charge.
Then, as if the air had been let out of an overinflated blimp, the deflated man sunk back in his chair, his face pale, jaw slack. He coughed—a practiced signal. His aide who had been standing discreetly in the hallway stepped into the doorway.
Without looking up, the Senator waved him in.
“This is Ken Peters, my chief of staff. He’s the only one on my team I trust.”
The small bespeckled young man entered, his face tight with concern. He nodded politely to both Rafe and Nicki.
Senator Chambers looked up and met Rafe’s gaze.
“It’s…it’s more than that. More than a public relations problem. Or maybe the biggest public relations problem I’ve faced.”
He hesitated but at Rafe’s calm expression, he continued.
“I… got this note….Give it to him, Ken.”
Rafe took a silk square from his inside jacket pocket and accepted the folded sheet of paper Peters held out to him. He read it at a glance then handed the note to Nicki. She took it, carefully holding the corner of the paper in the silk cloth as she read it.
Rafe turned to the Senator.
“When did you get this?”
“Two days ago. I thought it was another of Hillary’s clumsy grasps for attention. Wanting to upset me. Thumbing her nose at me. This kind of thing is not beyond Hillary. She’s into drama, just like her mother. Anything to get attention. It doesn’t help that she despises me.”
He met Rafe’s stern gaze and stammered.
“Look, dammit. What can I say? I didn’t take it seriously. What the hell is a Volkov?
Is that supposed to be a takeoff on some Russian name? Christ, I thought it was some kind of a joke. Something Hillary and her skanky friends cooked up. I…I didn’t think it was real.”
He ran his hands through his hair taking care not to muss the precisely positioned layers.
“And now?”
The Senator’s voice dropped.
“Now….Now I’m not so sure.”
Rafe nodded.
“So that there is no misunderstanding, Senator, and in the interest of full disclosure, my fee just doubled.”
At the Senator’s shocked gasp, Rafe added, “The other terms remain the same.”
Chapter 3
Rafe spent thirty minutes updating Caleb and Grayson on the crisis. None of them had heard of a sex trade ring with the name Volkov.
“Look, men, it may be someone’s name or who the hell knows. It could even be a red herring, to lead the chase off base. It would be ironic if that fucking asshole is right and his daughter or someone close to her is responsible. We’re not making any assumptions. Gray, contact Vlad and the team in Chechnya. That’s the hottest human trafficking arena in the world at this time. God help Hillary if by some fluke she’s ended up on their radar. “
When they finished laying out preliminary plans, Grayson and Caleb headed for the Cave, the affectionate nickname for their twenty-five-hundred square foot, state of the art technology center. Rafe prided himself that although it wasn’t the Pentagon, it was pretty damn close—all the more impressive since it supported an international team of forty, rather than the 25,000 plus who worked at the Pentagon. They agreed to pull the team together at 0700 and patch Vlad and his Eastern Bloc lieutenants into a conference call. When he was able to get some true privacy, Rafe planned to call the man who knew about everything Russian, and a hell of a lot more about the dark side of humanity: Yuri Petrakov, Nicki’s father.
~~~
As the other men headed out the door, Rafe signaled to Nicki to stay behind. He poured himself a healthy dose of scotch and raised the bottle inquiringly to Nicki. She nodded in agreement. He filled her glass, handed it to her then raised his in a salute.
He smiled at her. “You were wonderful tonight, Nicki. In addition to looking beautiful, you seemed to share my distaste for our guest, which in my mind indicates you are a sound judge of character.”
Nicki shrugged and returned his smile. “Did you honestly think Rafe, given my father’s various associates, that I am not able to recognize a pretentious prick when I meet one?”
Rafe chuckled. “Yeah, Nicki, I’m sure you’ve met some unusual characters over the years. But I have to tell you, Chambers tops the asshole scale for me.”
He strode restlessly over to the fireplace. Placing his hand against the mantle, he focused on the flickering flames, as if seeking the answer to a knotty problem. He frowned, his face contorting with disgust.
“Fuck, he actually spent two and a half hours preening like a peacock before mentioning that his seventeen-year-old daughter has likely been kidnapped and is being held for ransom. Shit. A fucking public relations problem is how he views the fact that Hillary may be a victim of an international sex ring.”
Rafe paced across the room, tugging at his neck, twisting his head from side to side to loosen the tension. Nicki resisted the impulse to reach out to touch him. She wondered what he would do if she offered to massage the tight muscles. Shaken by the daring thought, her cheeks flamed. Gratified that Rafe didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment, she focused on his passionate description of the Senator.
“He’s a scoundrel, Nicki. All his life, he’s had everything handed to him on a platinum platter. Nothing and no one is allowed to intrude on that storybook life. Think about it. He’s spent years creating the perfect image and now his daughter might screw it up for him. Must be tough when you’ve worked as hard he has on his public persona to have his private life interfere. And now the fucker is annoyed that his teenage daughter might undo all that hard work. But hell, won’t be the first time a politician has been brought down by what happens in the back room.”
He took a large gulp of scotch then poured himself another couple of inches and snorted.
“Christ, knowing him he’ll turn it into a public relations bonanza, make himself the victim, the grieving father and all that bull shit.”
He shook his head. “Damn, Nicki. She’s been gone for five days and now he comes to see me?”
Nicki nodded and gave a wistful sigh.
“Good grief, if my father didn’t know where I was for more than a twenty-four hour period, he’d turn the world upside down looking for me. And I’m twenty-six years old, and a trained fighter. Hillary…oh God, Rafe, I don’t want to think about what might be happening to her.”
Rafe put up his hand.
“Don’t think about it. Just concentrate on how we’re going to find her.”
“What about her mother, Rafe? Sometimes mothers know a lot more of what goes on behind the scenes with teenage girls—or so I’ve been told.”
“Not much help there I’m afraid. Mrs. Chambers is the ultimate political wife. She came into the marriage with her own fortune. Theirs is as close to an arranged marriage as you can get. Two industrial scions merged their empires and sealed the deal with the bodies of their children. And the Senator and Mrs. Chambers have followed the script to the letter. She looks away while he fucks anything that has tits and an ass. Then like the pro she is, she works the role of longsuffering wife—the role she willingly chose.”
Nicki was startled at his vehemence. She realized how little she knew about Rafe, his private life, what made him the man that he is. She only had the few scraps of information her father had revealed over the years. She knew he grew up in France, came from a hideous background and somehow made a lasting connection with her father. As little as she knew about his personal life, she did know that with the exception of her, Rafe was the most important person in her father’s life. It was ironic that after all these years, she was just now meeting the man her father loved like the son he never had.
“How do you do it Rafe? How do you work with people you clearly dislike? People who are everything that you are not.”
He shrugged.
“It’s hard sometimes to get past the personality. Especially with a prick like Chambers who represents everything I despise. But I remind myself that he is nothing more to me than a client. A client with a problem. And that I may be one of the few people in the world who can solve his problem.”
He winked at her. “And of course, I remember the money. Ultimately it’s all about the money.”
Nicki frowned. “You know that’s not true. My father says you are the most principled man he knows.”
Rafe guffawed. “That may be more of a function of the men your father knows than a reflection on me.”
Nicki ignored his sarcasm. “I don’t believe you Rafe. I saw what you did to save that little girl in El Paso. You had a nationwide team hunting for Cynthia. And she didn’t have important parents who had a ton of money. Caleb told me you refused to take money for that job. That you said the satisfaction came from bringing down Dixon Price. He also told me you give away more than half of what you make.”
Rafe grimaced.
“For one thing, Caleb has a big mouth. For another thing, Princess, don’t try to make me into a hero. I’m a selfish arrogant son of a bitch who cares about one thing and one thing only. That’s making the world a little safer for the good guys and taking out the bad guys as brutally and viciously as I can. Oh, yeah. And making a hell of a lot of money in the process.”
When she frowned, he added, “Think about it Princess. God help us all. Senator Robert Chambers might just become the next President of the United States. We find his daughter, hopefully alive, and the bastard is grateful. Grateful means he recommends us to his rich friends. Which means more clients. Clients mean money. And money is power… and power is always money. It’s simple. Think about it. That obnoxious assh
ole is worth a chunk of change.”
Chapter 4
Rafe was quiet for several minutes, then wandered back and sunk down in the armchair. He reached over and once more refilled his glass, before offering the bottle to Nicki. She shook her head. The expression on his face surprised her. He was more intense, more angry than he had been when the Senator was here. Though he pretended to care only about the financial side of his business, she had seen Rafe at work. She’d heard story after story about how he and his team of shadow warriors literally went to ends of the Earth to help people in trouble. Maybe the Senator wasn’t as uncaring as he seemed. If anyone would pursue his daughter’s kidnappers the way her father would if something horrible happened to her, Rafe was that man.
He sipped on his Scotch then stared at her from half closed eyes, looking her up and down as if deciding what he wanted to do next. With her. To her. His scrutiny began at her outrageous shoes then travelled up her legs and thighs until he was staring openly at her breasts. Nicki resisted the impulse to cover them with her hands, to protect them from his insolent inspection. At the same time she tried to stifle the rush of sensation his brazen examination evoked. She almost clamped her legs tighter together—anything to quiet the shivering sensations spiking her core. But she didn’t dare move; she didn’t want him to know how he was affecting her. As if the heat burning her cheeks hadn’t already given her away.
His next words caught her off guard and confirmed that she hadn’t misinterpreted his lascivious perusal of her body.
“Christ, Nicki, Chambers was more interested in your tits and the way he planned to fuck you than in his own daughter’s survival.”
Nicki couldn’t hide her shock. No question Rafe was angry. But damn, did he blame her for the outrageous way the Senator came on to her?
“I hope you don’t think that I encouraged his ugly overtures, Rafe. I was disgusted by them.”
