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Chris' call to report the drug operation was not as satisfactory as he had expected. It turned out that the guy he was supposed to contact was not available, something about a trip to Toronto, and there was no word about when he would return. Chris finally figured out that he was getting the runaround while they were trying to trace his call. In disgust, he hung up, and let off a string of cuss words like I have never before heard in my life. Martha even looked impressed. When he ran out of steam, Chris blushed and smiled sheepishly. I said, "I take it that you were pissed off?"
That resulted in another burst of cussing. I don't know how long it ran, but I don't recall Chris ever repeating himself. I guess that this was possible because he cussed in three languages. That seemed to wring the last of his frustration out of him, because he looked at the two of us and said, "I guess that we will have to go to Plan B, though I don't know what Plan B is, yet."
We spent a lot of time talking, the gist of the discussion was whether or not we wanted to take on an international drug ring. None of us really wanted to get involved in this heavy a commitment, but we also didn't want to walk away from it. We realized that we had a choice: we could go after the really big boys or we could stick with the small timers like the runner we had stumbled across.
Martha brought up a point: maybe the whole of Gutierrez and McMichael Export and Import might not be involved. It could be that just a few, maybe even only one of the company's employees was involved with drugs and the rest of the company was completely legitimate. Maybe the company was just being used as a cover for only a few people.
That would change things. The problem was in knowing which of the possibilities fit the real situation. We decided that the first step in our investigation of the office was to go in before the cleaning crew and see if we could find anything incriminating. If not, we would have to do the job the hard way in incremental steps.
That night, Nyx and Phobos visited the office building in question. We took the elevator to the fifth floor and hid on the stairs until we were sure that everybody was out of the office we were interested in. Phobos used his lock picking skills and got us through the door in jig time. We split up and each searched the offices, trying to disturb as little as possible. Of course, the desks were all locked, so I was limited in what I could do, though Phobos did pick the locks on the desks he was investigating.
He did not find anything in any desk drawers, but he did open a filing cabinet to find it full of money, mostly in 20s and 50s. He estimated that there had to be close to $100,000 dollars in there, the way it was jammed full. We found out that this was the office of Mr. McMichael's personal assistant, James Boniface. We didn't want to stay too long and get caught, so we left, knowing at least one of the people we needed to follow up on.
We had nothing else specifically scheduled for this night, so we headed back to the apartment complex. While on the way, I slipped into my disguise. Martha dropped us off, and we ran through our usual routine of me acting as bait and Phobos backing me up.
We got no nibbles this time. Could it be that we had scared off the gangs? Naw, it couldn't be that. We just must have hit a slack period. With nothing to show for the effort, we joined Martha in the car and headed home. As it happened, I was sitting in the passenger seat, still wearing my costume, Martha was driving, and Phobos was sitting in the back seat half dozing.
Martha stopped at a stop sign and had just put her foot onto the accelerator when her door was pulled open and a voice growled, "Move over, Cunt! I'm driving now!"
This was an older model car without the automatic door locks, and Martha must have forgotten to lock her door when she last got in. Surely, the man did not want the car for its own sake, he must have been attracted to two women who looked like they would not be a threat to him. Being an older car, there was no hump on the floor in front and it was a bench seat, so he had no trouble pushing Martha over and sliding into place under the steering wheel.
That was when Phobos acted. He slid his baton over the man's head and pulled it tight under his neck. Phobos had a hand at either end of the baton, so the man's neck was caught in such a way that he could not get loose. Meanwhile, I used my baton to break the wrist holding the knife. He was not able to scream, but only gurgle from the pain in his wrist because of the pressure of the baton on his throat.
Phobos said, "You are a dead man if you don't do exactly as I say. First turn off the ignition ... Now, I am going to release the pressure on your throat, and you are going to answer some questions. Remember that I can easily crush your throat if you give me any problems, and lying is a problem I won't tolerate.
"Question number one: why did you attack this car?"
"I was just following orders. Mr. Big One told me to pick up some women for his stable. He was going to pay me $250 for every one I brought in. This car was one of the old kind, so it was an easy mark. I saw that the lock button was sticking way up, so I knew the door wasn't locked.
"I didn't see you in the back seat. Honest, if I had, I would not have messed with your women. Please let me go. I ain't hurt nobody."
"Maybe. How many women have you collected so far tonight. Don't lie!"
"I gots three, and I was gonna quit with these two."
"Where do you deliver them?"
"I takes 'em to Mr. Big One's headquarters. I don't know what happens to them after that."
"OK, Nyx, you get out and come around to drive. Our friend, here, will direct you to the proper address."
I went around to the driver's side of the car, and everybody slid over to make room for me to drive. Phobos never let up on the slight pressure on our captive's neck. Martha and I made sure to lock our doors, and I drove to a warehouse that used to be part of a factory complex that was now abandoned.
We found a place to park and Martha shifted to the back seat. She got out her pistol and showed it to the captive. I used a plastic tie to hook his left wrist to the right side of the steering wheel; that, along with the threat of Martha's gun, was enough to immobilize him while Phobos and I looked at the warehouse. I stripped off my disguise, but kept my skull mask out of sight for now.
The warehouse was two storeys tall, and the upper windows at one end were painted black. We figured that must be where the offices had originally been and where we would probably find Mr. Big One. Incidentally, I intended to find out what his name referred to—I had an idea, but I was not sure.
We used our spikes to climb the outside wall to the roof. We found an access trap door at the end of the building with the painted over windows, so that was what we used to gain entrance. We lifted the cover over the trap door and looked down into a darkened room. Phobos used his nightvision monocular to investigate, then handed it to me. This looked like a nondescript storeroom. We lowered ourselves inside, being careful not to bump anything so that we made too much noise. Once inside, Phobos picked the lock on the door.
He had one of his pistols ready in case of trouble, and I had my baton in hand. Phobos opened the door just enough to look through the crack with his periscope. There did not seem to be any guards, so he holstered his pistol and took up his stick. We slipped into the hall and made our way passed one door where we listened for activity. We could hear women moaning and crying, so we assumed that must be where the captives were held, at least temporarily. We decided to wait before releasing the women, figuring that it would be safer to take care of Mr. Big One and his henchmen before doing that.
Kierra
- 08.09.2021
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