The Hunted Assassin (26 page)

“Ah, yes. I think you mean Whitetail. Unfortunately, you’ll find none of that here, at least not today. I have some of these blue pills, if you need extra support, or if you really want to get crazy, I have some Ex, or—”

“No Whitetail?” Oliver asked, portraying disappointment. “A friend of mine said that if I’m ever in the outer ring, I’ve really got to try that, and I’ve had my heart set on it. Any chance you could—”

“Like I said, not today,” Gigi said sternly then returned the black box to her bureau. When she turned back around, her smile reappeared and she moved to where they were standing.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I think we should all get down to business,” Gigi said as she slipped her hand into Oliver’s trousers while she kissed him to keep him from protesting.

Francisco stood, his mouth agape. “I, uh, I’m not feeling very well,” he said, backing toward the door. “Hey, Mi … I mean, Ryan, I’m going to go wait out front.”

Oliver only grunted.

Francisco closed the door behind him as he stood alone in the dimly lit hallway. Overwhelmed by the situation, he tried to recall the direction they came in, but he couldn’t remember a thing. He looked to his left and then to his right, but both routes looked identical. He had a fifty-fifty shot of making the right decision and he turned to the right. At the end of the corridor, he came to a T. To the left was another long hallway. To the right, he found an opening that was draped with a velvet curtain. He remembered first coming back, and was almost positive that he passed a similar curtain, but could’ve sworn that they took more turns along the way. He stepped up, parted the curtains and walked through.

Once through the passageway, he stood in a small vestibule that had a single armchair with a broken leg, causing it to teeter to the left. Next to the chair was a door unlike the others in the establishment. All of the others featured pink diamonds at the center of charcoal-colored ovals. This door was titanium and looked more like an exit door than anything else.

“Ah, a backdoor,” Francisco mumbled before pushing through.

On the other side of the doorway, Francisco froze. He stood in a long, narrow room that was barely illuminated. From what he could see, there were a dozen or so steel wired cages along each side of the room. In each of the cages, scared, bloodshot eyes stared back. He felt along the wall for a switch and flicked it on. Bright light flooded the room and the horror set in. Each of the pairs of eyes belonged to a different girl. From what he could see, the girls’ ages varied from young teens to grown adults. Each of the women were completely naked and some were malnourished. Their wrists were bound behind their backs, and they all wore ball gags at their mouths.

Petrified at the sight, his first thought was to free them and escape the facility. As he rushed forward and began opening the first cage, his analytical mind stopped him. He knew that freeing the girls now would certainly spell doom for their mission, and the livelihood of his entire team. He paused for a moment, trying to decide what he should do. He looked down at the woman in the cage. She was a teen, probably fifteen or sixteen, her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes looked up at him, filled with fright. Her pale cheeks were stained with dried tears and grime.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I can’t right now. I want to help all of you,” Francisco said, addressing all of the women. “But I’m outnumbered at the moment.”

One by one, each of the women began to sob softly.

“Wait, wait. Please don’t cry. You have to keep quiet. If you don’t, someone will hear and who knows what they’ll do? Hush, please.”

Painfully, Francisco re-latched the lock on the cage and retreated to the door. He flicked off the light once again and stepped back through. He retraced his steps down the hall, passing the doorway that Gigi had led them to. At the other end of the corridor, he turned right and saw the familiar cordoned off doorway. Beyond it, Madame Elina stood, her back toward him. He took several deep breaths for courage then walked out.

Madame Elina looked at him and smiled. “Well, aren’t you a quick finisher?” she said.

Francisco puffed out his chest and smiled as confidently as he could. “Well, some people say it isn’t a race, but, you know,” he said as he sauntered out into the promenade.

43

Jaxon and Camille waited for the elevator to arrive, hoping that it was empty when it did. As they stood in silence, Camille leaned her head onto Jaxon’s shoulder, sliding her arm around his waist. Jaxon was unsure how to react. Since having her thrust back into his life, he’d fully realized what a terrible mistake he’d made abandoning her. He wondered, though, if her actions were for their mission’s disguise, or if she harbored the same feelings for him that he did for her.

When the elevator opened, the car wasn’t empty, but the man aboard stepped off and around them, uninterested. Stepping in and looking at the panel of buttons to the right, Jaxon noticed the familiarity in its layout, as it was similar to his own space station’s design, mixed use floors above and residential floors below, and at the very bottom of the panel, there was a button labeled 50. They were on level M, probably representing
Main
.

“Shit,” Jaxon muttered.
It had to be all the way at the bottom.

Camille pushed the button, sending the elevator car down to what they hoped was a lead worth the risk. After several minutes of descent, the car slowed as the crimson digits above the door rolled over to their desired floor.

The doors parted, but neither Jaxon nor Camille moved right away. They stared out into a stark white corridor that carried away from them. At the far end, there was an unremarkable door.

“Well? What do you think?” Jaxon asked.

Camille remained silent for a moment before cautiously stepping out. Jaxon followed, then the doors closed. The sound of the elevator whisking back up hummed quietly.

“Okay then. I guess we’re checking it out,” Jaxon said, stepping ahead of Camille. When they reached the door, they found that it had no distinguishable markings whatsoever. Curiously, there wasn’t even a door handle present. Jaxon looked at Camille then shrugged. He reached out and rapped on the door.

Boom, boom, boom, the sound echoed in the stark corridor.

They stood, quietly, for several moments before either of them heard a noise. Suddenly, a high-pitched whining echoed throughout as the perimeter of the doorframe began to glow red. At the same time, the center panel of the door transitioned from the color of the door skin into a kind of LCD display with five empty boxes across the top, and a 10-digit keypad below. There was also a timer displaying 0:60 present. Then, the red glow at the doorframe began to flash in one-second intervals, in sync with the clock ticking backward. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven …

“What do you think?” Jaxon asked.

Camille narrowed her eyes on the keypad and reached out to enter the code given to them.

“Hold on a sec,” Jaxon said. “Suppose we enter the wrong code?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Camille said, holding her hand just millimeters away from the screen.

Before she touched the display, Jaxon looked over his shoulder, and his facial expression turned to shock. Camille saw his change and followed his eyes.

“Jesus,” she exclaimed. “I guess if we don’t get it right … we’re as good as dead,” she said, staring at the machine gun that had lowered from the ceiling, pointing directly at them.

“Yeah, pretty much. Either that or …” Jaxon paused and looked toward the elevator itself and was further discouraged to find that another blank door had suddenly appeared halfway down the hall.

“Or what?” Camille asked.

“Look,” Jaxon said, pointing past the machine gun.

Camille exhaled dramatically.

“My sentiments exactly,” Jaxon said, refocusing his attention on the display. Twenty-five, twenty-four …

Without hesitation, Camille reached out and touched the keypad.

Five, zero, nine, six, one.

Nothing happened.

A few seconds later, the timer stopped, and the flashing red doorframe turned blue. A faint mechanical grinding noise could be heard from the other side of the door. Then, a click as the door popped open.

“Well, there you go,” Jaxon said as he looked back at the machine gun. It was gone. It had retracted back up the moment they entered the correct code.

“Shall we?” Camille asked, moving toward the open door.

Jaxon reached out and gently tugged on her arm, pulling her back.

“Wait up a minute,” Jaxon said. “Maybe we should rethink this. Maybe only one of us should go in, and the other should go check on the boys.”

“Split up? Now? But we’re so close.”

“I know. But if this goes south, and they close us in again,” Jaxon said, motioning toward the now visible elevator door, “we’ll both be trapped down here. But, if you go back up now, you’ll at least know where to come get me if something happens.”

“But why you? I might have a better chance of persuading whoever is behind the door to give us what we’re looking for,” Camille said convincingly.

“Like you could actually talk your way out of a risky situation better than me.”

She smiled, leaning into him closely, pressing her breasts against his chest. “Yes. Because I have lady parts, and you don’t. Men are suckers for a nice rack.”

Jaxon’s heart rate increased momentarily at the closeness of Camille. He could smell her delicate scent, and he longed to touch that which was pressed firmly against his body.

“I don’t know, Camille. Suppose it’s a woman? She might be looking for a man just like me to sweep her off her feet.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what was the name on that card again?” She winked.

Jaxon sighed. “It’s Ziggi, but I still think it’s you that should head up. I’ve had nearly a lifetime of fieldwork, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Besides, you can use your lady parts to control the boys if they get out of line.”

Defeated, Camille closed her eyes and nodded. “Point taken,” she said. A moment later, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered. “At least let me track you,” she said before kissing him on the nape of his neck. With her right hand, she reached up behind his left ear and pressed firmly, activating his implanted tracer module.

A moment later she slowly pulled herself away from him and sauntered back toward the elevator.

Jaxon waited until she was on the elevator and the door closed before he moved forward.

Pushing the door fully open, he stepped into another long corridor. One that carried on in opposite directions perpendicular to the one that he’d just exited. As he looked right, he could see it curve further to the right until it was out of sight. When he looked left, he saw the same thing, curving and disappearing to the left. Based on assumed space station design, he was most likely at the outer wall of the facility, and the hallway ran a complete circle. Without hesitation, he turned to his right and began looking for something, or someone.

“Ziggi, where are you?”

44

The elevator door closed, and as soon as she pressed M, the elevator car began to rise, taking her further away from Jaxon.

“Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Camille exclaimed. Why did she let him talk her into splitting up? she asked herself. Deep down, though, she knew he was right. About everything. His practical experience far outweighed anything she had to offer, and getting trapped down below while the rest of the team remained unaware of the dangers was not good. Regardless, she remained upset about leaving him in such troubling circumstances. She only hoped that it wasn’t as bad a situation as her mind seemed to be telling her it was.

A moment later, the elevator arrived back at the main level. She stepped out and was instantly assaulted by the bright lights and hectic sounds echoing in from the casino. She knew right then that she was not cut out for that kind of lifestyle. She much preferred the peace and quiet of her old life, back on Earth.

She crossed through the casino and out into the promenade on the far side. She followed along, outright ignoring the solicitors trying to lure her into their grainy establishments. When she reached the end of the promenade, she stood in front of the brothel and wondered if the boys were still in there. She contemplated returning to the ship to see if they returned early. If she did, and they weren’t back yet, she’d have wasted all that time going through security for nothing.

“Dammit all to hell,” she muttered.

Exasperated, she stepped up and was about push through and into The Pleasure Gauntlet when she heard a voice from behind her.

“Camille?” came the familiar voice.

She let go of the door handles and turned to see Francisco walking out of one of the pubs along the promenade. “Oh, thank God,” she exclaimed.

Francisco walked right up to Camille and hugged her tightly.

“It’s all right, Clay,” Camille said. “Is something the matter?” she asked, pulling away.

“No, yes … I mean, no. I think everything is fine, but—”

“Relax, Clay. Explain to me what happened. Is Miles okay?”