by J Paton
My twelve-man team were all working on different jobs. Business was booming, which on one hand was good, but on the other meant I was going to have to find someone new to add to the team—and soon. Given that I was picky about who worked for me, that was going to be a ball ache. Plus, they needed to understand the level of background check I carried out. The work my firm did required that there not be any loose cannons. I didn’t need any secrets that could come back to bite a client or my business in the arse. I’d built a solid rep for getting the job done, and I wanted to keep it.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “I’m gonna say this, the job sucks. You know I’ve done some dreadful undercover work before, but this… Christ, they’re fucking heathens. The way they treat the subs makes a mockery out of the BDSM lifestyle. I want to say it’s the sub’s fault for being clueless, but I can’t.”
I shifted my gaze to Gabriel. “Do you want me to find someone else to take over?”
He held up a hand to stop me. “Who? All the guys are working on jobs. None of them have experience in this type of lifestyle, and if they had it would be more of a personal thing at home.”
I didn’t refute what he’d said. The men in my team were free to choose what they shared about themselves with each other. What I knew about the men was for my eyes only, and was securely stored within several layers of encrypted code that would take a serious amount of skill to access. “Do you need to take some downtime?”
Gabriel shook his head. “If I do that, the last three months will have been a waste. I’m making some headway with Riley, but the man isn’t stupid. I’m convinced that the unkempt man with the scruffy office is just a façade. There’s something else I’ve noticed, but it’s not in the file because I don’t have anything concrete yet.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s a door leading down to what appears to be a lower level of the building. It’s hard to judge from the outside. The place is deceptive, and I’d suggest much bigger than we thought when we walked the perimeter. The door is at the back of the club, so not easily seen. In fact, I initially thought it was a toilet. It was only when I got closer to it the other night that I noticed a couple of members access it. They went through it, but they didn’t return.
“As you know, I’ve been developing friendships, and the word is that there’s another club housed in the building, or some sort of secret area, depending on who you listen to. From what I’ve gleaned, it’s pricey to become a member of that part, and it’s by invite only. None of the men I’ve seen disappear through that door talk about it once they’re back in the main club. I’m focusing my attention on two men at the moment to see if I can get them to talk to me. But as I said, it’s slow going and the Dom’s in that club are genuinely cagey to a level I’ve never experienced before, which just increases my suspicions.”
“Is there any way you can access that level without anyone noticing?”
“Not that I can see. I’ve spent the last week watching the comings and goings. They have a Dom stationed a few feet away. Initially, I thought the dude was just being lazy and couldn’t be bothered to circulate. But, that’s not what the wandering Dom’s are for, sadly.” He sighed and smoothed a hand over his hair. “Anyway, I’m thinking the guy is stationed there to watch whoever accesses the door. It’s also got a biometric lock.”
“Fuck, they’re usually programmed for fingerprints, and if a person uses a code to access the door, there are hundreds of thousands of combinations. Their security measures are way over the top. That level of protection for a small business, says that there is something worth protecting. They have multiple layers to protect their data too. I managed to get in, but before I could download everything they had, I was kicked out of the site. That hasn’t happened to me in an exceptionally long time.”
Gabriel laughed, genuine humour in his eyes. “Did that dent your ego?”
I sneered. “A little. They have to be paying a serious amount of money to someone to put all those layers of protection in place to keep data safe. Which begs the question why? What information do they have that requires it to be guarded better than Fort Knox?”
“Nothing fucking good, that’s for sure. That place is definitely a front for something. I haven’t seen any sign of Immanuel—nothing. If he did go into that club, then what happened afterwards?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ve accessed the street cameras from that area on the night he disappeared, and from what I can piece together, given that there’s no camera on Dungeon’s Wharf, when he left his flat he was heading in the direction of Dom’s Haven. His clothing indicates he was on a night out. He had no bags with him, nothing to suggest he was leaving to go somewhere else. And although, the facial image isn’t great quality, he looks happy, I’d go as far as to say excited. There’s no footage that I can find to show him after this. Nothing. It’s like he dropped off the face of the Earth.”
“Then he’s either very clever and knows where the cameras are, and has decided to drop out of sight for whatever reason. Or when he entered the club, if that’s what he did, he never left.”
A chill raced over my skin, because I was damn sure it was option two, and my thrumming senses suggested the door leading to God knows where, might just give us the answers.
Gabriel tugged on his lower lip, his gaze on me as I remained silent. “You think it’s option two, don’t you?”
I chuckled, but there was no humour in it. “I do. I’ve started to go through the files I downloaded, but there are literally thousands of them. Which means I’ve got months of work ahead of me. I can’t chance skipping any of them in case I miss something vital. It’s going to be long and laborious, so if you lean a bit harder on Riley to get access to whatever is behind the door, it might do us both a favour and speed things up.”
Gabriel’s expression was grim as he nodded. “I can try. Up to now I’ve been careful not to show too much interest, and I’ve only done a few demonstrations on stage. I’ll up my game and see if I can find a genuine pain slut to gain Riley’s attention. I’ve already figured out that his proclivities run to dark.”
I tried not to think too hard about what that meant. I had enough demons in my head without adding more. “Do what you need to, and bill me as usual for anything you need to purchase.”
“Will do.” Gabriel got up in one fluid move. “I’ll only contact you before our planned debrief next month if I find out something I think you need to know.” He inclined his head towards the file. “You’ll find the names of subs in there. I keep a track of each one I meet, and write down their names, along with how often they visit the club. There are a substantial number. I’m not sure how many of them have registered as members, but I’ve got seventy-two listed so far. If you can find the list of applicants in the data you’ve downloaded, you could maybe cross-match them and see if there are any patterns I’m missing.”
I nodded. “I’ll do that. Hopefully, it will be in one of the files I have. I’ll let you know if I come across anything.”
Gabriel said his goodbyes soon after and was out the door. I sat back, my instincts kicking up a fucking fuss again as I stared at the open file with Gabriel’s neat handwriting. When I’d taken on this case, I’d hoped it would be cut and dried. A couple of months later, it was turning into an unwieldly beast. New Year was just around the corner, and I was no further forward. Telling Immanuel’s family that on a weekly basis was draining, chipping away at their hopes of finding their son.
After my last visit to his parents a few days ago, I’d considered farming out the data search to a couple of people I’d used in the past. But, there was something about this case that made me reluctant to do that. For good or for bad, I’d keep going until the end, regardless of the outcome. I’d stopped charging the family for Gabriel’s hours. This wasn’t about money for me. It never had been when I’d set up my business. It was about…
I ran my hands through my hair, tugging hard in an effort to stop where my hea
d was trying to drag me to. Picking up the file again, I pushed thoughts of the past away and focused on someone I might be able to change the outcome for… if it wasn’t already too late.
“Go fuck yourself!” I growled to the empty room, my heart thudding a hard tattoo against my ribs at the hard reality.
Metropolitan Police Headquarters: News Year’s Eve 2019
Tucker
Given that most hoped to spend New Year with their loved ones rather than dealing with some fucked up situation, the cursing that followed the call about the possible hostage situation was to be expected.
This wasn’t what I wanted, and I wasn’t sure whether to curse, or to just throw my hands up in despair as I tried to explain to Jup that I wasn’t going to be home anytime soon. A quick text was all I could manage, and I sent up a silent prayer for him understanding how little control I had.
I was distracted by the organised chaos surrounding me: men and women scrambling to grab their body armour and weapons. I placed the phone back in my locker with a heavy heart and the knowledge that there was fuck all I could do to change things.
Minutes later, we headed out to the van. I used the time to push away any concerns about leaving Jup alone for so long. When everyone was inside and seated in the van, I ran through the information I’d received. “The owner of The Playroom, a BDSM club housed in a renovated warehouse in Notting Hill, placed a call earlier this afternoon to report two missing men, one of which is his partner. At that point they’d only been missing for an hour. Therefore, Mr. Daniels was advised of the standard protocol for missing persons. There was a second call once Mr. Daniels had pulled up the security feed for the club and found what appears to be a hostage situation in the cellar of the—”
“Looks like someone got the party started early,” Graham, an overzealous loudmouth stated in a stage whisper to Lee, the response officer sat on his left. Lee remained silent, but his lips twitched.
“Have you quite finished?” There was steel in my voice as I arched my brow. I tilted my head in Graham’s direction, his expression changing from amused to sheepish.
“Sorry Sir.”
“Anyone else want to make any comments, or any smart-arse remarks?” I gave the men a hard stare, one I used frequently. Only once I’d received headshakes from everyone did I continue. “Mr. Daniels believes that his partner, Mr. Gawne, and another man, Mr. Robertson, are being held against their will. He believes an assault is in progress by an assailant they believe to be Mr. Robertson’s ex-partner.”
A ball of distaste lodged itself in my gut at the reaction of a couple of the men, who weren’t quick enough to disguise their revulsion that the men in question were in gay relationships.
I lived with the whispers and slurs about my own personal life. Even though I didn’t like it, it was something I chose to ignore. Ignorant fools were everywhere, and the police force was no exception. I made a mental note to keep an eye on both Lee and Preston, to ensure they weren’t heavy-handed with the victims. The last thing I needed were officers throwing their weight around during a volatile situation.
On the whole, the response team were good men. But there was always a rotten apple or two in any barrel. It took time to weed those fuckers out.
By the time I’d finished briefing the men, the blood pumping through my veins was full of adrenaline. A voice came over the radio to alert the patrol cars who had arrived at the warehouse. Giving our ETA, I requested that the street be cordoned off and that they should wait for our arrival.
Was it too much to hope we’d get there before the press? The media always seemed to have someone feeding them information, and I didn’t need them swarming all over the place and making assumptions. With little idea of what we might find inside the building, the last thing we needed was for a rogue reporter to become a part of the story they were trying to get. It had happened before.
The van came to a stop and the chatter ceased immediately. Inhaling and exhaling slowly to clear my mind, I took hold of my taser and eyed the men. “Remember your positions and no heroics.”
Lee rolled his eyes at Preston and the knots in my stomach tightened further.
There was no time to pull either man aside as the radio crackled and a voice announced, “Sir, the street is cordoned off.”
The van doors opened, an icy blast of cold air filling the cramped space. No one appeared to notice as they got out and stood in silence to await my command. Men dressed in tactical gear could draw a crowd. I indicated for the men to get into formation.
Outside The Playroom, I eyed the grey, gloomy sky, and the now cordoned off street, before my gaze travelled to the large three-storey warehouse. The area had been through some major renovation and the building in front of me had clearly had money spent on it to refurbish it.
I listened intently to the report from the officers who had arrived before us. But as they’d stayed outside as per my instructions, there was little new information. As far as the officers were concerned no one had left the building, so I could only assume that the men were still inside. I was aware of the layout inside the club—I kept that information to myself though— as I motioned for the men to follow me.
A hush descended as I tried the main door and found it unlocked. Breathing out to steady my heart rate, I opened the door cautiously. Met with silence, I stepped inside the foyer, giving a hand signal for the men to fan out as I took lead.
Years in undercover police work had honed my senses, and I used them as I moved swiftly through the foyer of the club. The red and black décor was tasteful and the scent of leather lingered over the smell of cleaning products. The carpet beneath our feet muffled the sound of our boots.
Officers went to search the cloakroom at the back of a counter, their hand gestures indicating that it was clear, so I continued through the main door which led into the club. The team followed silently as my gaze swept the room. The décor from the foyer was replicated in the club. To the uninitiated it was probably a shock to see a stage with a large St Andrew’s cross on it. The booths that were built into the walls around the room had all been decorated for the New Year celebrations.
“Do you think Nathan and Isaac will be back down soon, I want to go and get re—”
“Police, get down on the floor and don’t move,” I shouted.
The two men who had come through the door at the end of the bar froze. Their black polo tops with the club logo on the front, together with their black trousers indicated that they were probably staff. One glance told me that both men were subs. The one who’d been speaking stared at us, his mouth working but nothing coming out.
“Police, you need to get down on your knees and keep your hands where we can see them,” I growled, both men instantly doing as they were told. “Is there anyone else in the club?”
The guy who’d spoken lifted his head; his face was ashen but he met my stare. “There’s Nathan and Isaac…they went up to the office. And Ferron and Lenny… they went up to the apartment on the top floor to have a rest,” he replied in a quivering voice.
Running through my options, I glanced over at Patrick. “Sweep the room. Take Kane with you.” I didn’t wait for a response as they were already moving. I shifted my gaze back to the two men kneeling on the floor. “Which door leads to the cellar?”
The question was met with pinched brows, but the previously chatty guy pointed to the door on the other side of the bar. “If you follow the stairs down, you’ll find it. The stairs going up lead to Nathan’s office, and then up to the apartment.”
I turned my gaze to Nicolas and Lee. “You two stay here with these men. The rest of you with me.”
My gut said to head down to the cellar rather than wasting time trying to find Mr. Daniels, who I suspected might not have followed the instructions to wait for our arrival. If the roles were reversed, I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to stop myself from seeking out someone who’d taken my partner.
Boots thudded on the stairs as men converged in t
he cellar, several shouts of “Police” reverberating through the large room. Of the five men in the room, three lay injured on a floor that glittered menacingly under the lights. An acidic, alcoholic scent mixed with the coppery odour of blood. There was a deep red river surrounding one of the men who appeared to be unconscious.
The other two men weren’t in much better condition, appearing to have taken the brunt of whatever had gone down. They were badly beaten and also appeared to be out cold… or possibly something worse, but they weren’t my immediate concern. That was the two huge men hovering over them. My hand tightened on my weapon as I eyed them, neither taking any notice of the armed men stood within a few feet of them.
The blonde giant, who I took to be the owner of the club, was refusing to move away from a man, who I’d bet my last salary was his partner.
“We need an ambulance,” the blonde giant growled to no one in particular.
When Preston scowled and opened his mouth to say something, I pinned him with an angry stare to silence him. Preston’s lips pinched together, turning white.
I dismissed him to make sure he’d do as he was told, and then turned my attention to the man on the floor. “Sir, step away from the casualty.” I went for firm and authoritative, figuring it was the only way to get the guy to listen.
When the guy looked up, I approached cautiously, making sure to keep my feelings masked. Frustration was etched in the guy’s face, along with fear as he towered over my six-foot-two frame.
“He is not a casualty. He is my boyfriend and I’m the person that rang to report that there was a fucking problem,” he ground out, his fingers curling into his palms like he was getting ready to swing at me.
I’d met guys like him before. I maintained eye contact even as sweat slid down my spine. There was something about his stance that said that out of the two of us, I wasn’t the only one who’d spent time in the forces.
