Control, Enkindle

"So, what? Once you... inject them... they'll obey everything I say?" he asked once we were out on the road. He was driving while I was giving him directions. Melinda was in the back seat.

"No," I said. "They'll obey everything I say. Once I've told them to listen to you then they'll obey you."

He nodded, watching the road and thinking.

"And they'll be unable to fight it?"

"Completely submissive," I said. Looking in the sun visor mirror I added, "Isn't that right, princess?"

Her eyes narrowed. "As far as I know, yes."

He nodded once more, a hint of excitement slipping onto his face.

"And there's nothing they won't do?"

He really had a lot of questions, I thought, and rolled my eyes.

"None at all," I said. "You could have Anastasia do a striptease for you before fucking her silly and she would love every second of it."

Her eyes cut to mine. "She's my daughter," he snapped. His indignation seemed genuine, up to a point. There was something else though, something that wasn't as opposed to the idea as he made himself out to be. Fucking dog.

"That's my point," I said. "There is literally no limit."

It was getting dark outside and visibility was starting to be an issue. The route we were taking to the store didn't have any streetlights and the road was narrow enough that he had to drive pretty slow.

"It should be just up ahead and a right," I said, checking my phone.

"I fucking hate these small roads," he said, having to slow down even further as we came up to a crossing. "In fact, I think I'm done with this place period."

"Thinking of leaving?" I idly asked, pointing out the turn he should take.

"Yeah," he said. "Been on my mind for a while now. Thinking Australia or maybe New Zealand."

"That's quite a distance," I observed.

He shrugged. "Cassie's been talking about wanting to go to Sweden and visit her relatives. Maybe that's as good a place as any."

"After tonight she'll want to go wherever you'll want to go," I said, pointing out yet another turn.

He took the turn and we found ourselves rolling down a positively tiny road with tall houses on each side.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" he asked.

"Yeah it should... what the hell?"

Up ahead a large truck had just backed out of a side alley, ostensibly in an effort to get onto the road, but only managed to block it off.

"Of for f-" He swore but it was drowned out by the sound of him pushing the horn.

The truck jerked like someone was trying to put it into gear but didn't move anywhere. He tried the horn again, unsuccessfully.

"See what I mean?" he said as he pushed open the door in a huff. "Shitty fucking country."

"What's happening?" Melinda asked, leaning forward between the two seats.

I didn't answer, only watched as Marcus approached the truck, the only source of light being the headlights of the car. As always he was wearing a suit and I could literally see the dust particles in the air being attracted to it as he walked.

He yelled something but I couldn't hear exactly what. The truck door opened and an old looking Italian man stepped out. He was wearing what looked like nothing but a pair of jeans overalls. They immediately began arguing, Marcus doing a good job of keeping up the wild gestures that Italians are known for making during heated conversations.

It took a good minute or two but eventually it seemed that Marcus had managed to convince the guy to drive back forward to let us pass. The guy didn't look very happy about it, giving Marcus a rude gesture before getting back into the truck, slamming the door shut loud enough that even I could hear it.

The truck engine spluttered to life while Marcus stood and watched. Again, more whirring and cranking as the guy put it in gear. Then, finally, it slowly began to roll out of the way.

Behind me I heard Melinda let out a gasp.

Marcus had just been about to turn around and head back to the car when another set of headlights turned on, this time in front of us, pointed at us.

A voice, loud but muffled, called something. It sounded suspiciously like, "Mr Ellwood."

"Stay in the car," I said and pushed the door open, stepping outside and leaving it open.

Marcus had his arm up, shielding himself from the bright light. I took a tentative step forward. Figures appeared in front of the other car, blocking some of the light.

"... Pagano?" Marcus said, confused.

Said man, Giancarlo Pagano, stepped forward, revealing himself.

"Fancy running into you," he said, a wide grin on his face. His graying black hair was slicked back. "Out here, in the middle of the darkness."

"What's, ah... what's going on?" Marcus said, taking a faltering step backwards.

"Straight to business, yes?" Giancarlo said and reached into his suit pocket. I could see Marcus tense but then relax again as Giancarlo only pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "This a trait I like about you."

A moment of tense silence followed as Giancarlo pulled out one of the cigarettes and put it in his mouth. Holding up his hand he snapped his fingers and immediately one of the figures drowned in light stepped up. It was the guard, the one and the same whom I had borrowed the gun from. He looked just as unamused and armed as then. He had a lighter in his hand, holding it out to Giancarlo.

"See, Mr Ellwood," he began but paused, moving the lighter up to the cigarette, lighting it. Blowing out a thick cloud he continued, "I thought you and I were on the same page. Surprising, then, when I find out that we're not."

"I don't... know what you're referring to," Marcus said and the nervousness and confusion was crystal clear in his voice.

He blew out another cloud. "Really? How strange."

"Carlo, what is this?" Marcus asked, managing to gather some wits. Turning his head he looked back in my direction but the headlights were still on and he had to shield his eyes.

"That is a very good question," he said, blowing yet another cloud. "But better aimed at something else, like this."

He took out a phone from his pocket and held it up. With his cigarette in his hand he had to use his pinky finger to tap a few times on the screen. Then he turned it around.

"I received this interesting little video earlier today. Care to explain?"

The video was playing and for a second I had a hard time making out exactly what it was. The camera seemed to be shaking before settling on a rather gruesome scene.

Miss Sofie, tied to a chair, and beaten absolutely bloody.

"I don't-" Marcus began but Giancarlo held up a finger, shushing him.

"Just listen."

Miss Sofie was coughing, sending a spray of blood and saliva towards the camera. Both her eyes looked bruised enough that she had a hard time opening them.

"Repeat what you just told me," a voice, distorted and robotic, came from the phone. Someone in the background?

She coughed again, sending a trail of blood running down her chin and down onto her once white blouse.

"He..." she tried but her voice hitched, sending her into yet another coughing fit. "He... he said he wanted out... that he was scared..."

"Start with who you are," the robotic voice said.

She hung her head forward, spitting out more blood. "Special Agent Hwei-ru Lee... on assignment from the German GSG 9..."

"And what was your assignment, agent?" the voice asked.

"To... infiltrate the... the human trafficking scene of Naples, headed up by known mafia member Giancarlo Pagano..." she said, her voice croaky and unstable throughout. "My assignment..." Another coughing fit. "... was to gather... intelligence and work... undercover."

"And how did you come to succeed with your mission?"

"A man... American... he contacted us..." she said, her head swaying back and forth. "... said he had information, that he worked close to the target..."

At that point it seemed that Marcus could no longer remain silent.

"Carlo... what is this?" he asked, shaking his head frantically.

In turn Giancarlo paused the video and barked something in Italian. Two more burly looking men, just as armed as the other guard, walked up on either side of Giancarlo, passing him and heading for Marcus.

"What?! No..." Marcus let out, taking a step backwards. The guards were quicker though, one of them thrusting the back of his rifle into his stomach, sending him doubling over. The other one kicked him in the back of his knees, forcing him to the ground.

"Please, Mr Ellwood, don't interrupt me again," Giancarlo said.

"This is-" That was as far as Marcus got before one of the guards broke his nose with the butt of his rifle.

He immediately clutched his face and toppled over, being dragged back up into a kneeling position by the two men.

"Now lets see," Giancarlo said and resumed the video.

"... he said he was scared... that he wanted out," Miss Sofie, Hwei-ru I guess, continued. "... and his information was solid..."

"So you made a deal?" the robotic voice asked.

She didn't verbally answer but the dull, erratic nodding of her head spoke volumes, even despite the returning coughing fit, again sending blood everywhere. The camera jostled around, giving a slightly lower angle of the beaten woman, revealing what looked like a spike of some kind, embedded in her lower stomach.

"And what was this man's name?"

The sound of her raspy breath, shaking as she inhaled, was telling of how bad of a condition she was in.

"... does it matter? I've already given you everything you wanted... please..."

"Just say the name again," the voice urged.

The few seconds of silence that passed were pressing. Everyone already knew what her next word would be. There really was no need to play the video anymore.

"... Ellwood..."

"It's a lie!" Marcus yelled even as the camera began jostling again, going completely black. He was rewarded by another gut punch from a guard.

"Thank you Special Agent Hwei-ru Lee," the voice said, more distant than before. There was a click of something.

"No! Plea-"

The movie ended just after a gut wrenching bang echoed in the narrow alley.

More silence, thick, pressing, punctured by Marcus trying to get his breathing under control. Giancarlo took another pull on his cigarette, its tip glowing in the dim alley, blowing yet another cloud in Marcus's direction. Throwing the butt to the ground he stepped on it, his foot crackling against the dirty road.

"Do you see what has me so confused now?" Giancarlo said, gesturing with his open hand for emphasis.

"It... ith's a liiie," Marcus whined, his speech a mess because of his broken nose.

The guards each had an arm, holding him steady, so when he snapped his head around he only got so far. His bloodied nose was a stark contrast in the bright headlights.

"You! You did this!" he snarled in my direction.

Running a hand through my hair I let out a heavy sigh. Taking two steps forward I blocked enough of the light to let him see me.

"I'm sorry Marcus," I said, and I truly was. Not because of what I had done but because it had come to this. What I had done needed to happen, but only because he was such a fucking liability. "I wasn't going to go down just because of you."

He began shaking his head, frantic. "No... no no no," he let out and snapped back around to look at Giancarlo. "You don't... he's trying to set me up! He has this thing... I don't know how it works. He can control minds!"

Giancarlo just shook his head, letting out sounds of pity. "A man will say anything when face to face with his maker."

"No! You don't understand! It's- he... it's some kind of device! He's a scientist- Just listen!" Marcus was desperate and honestly, i couldn't blame him, even if it was ultimately pointless.

"Mr Pagano," I called. "Our deal?"

Marcus snapped around to face me. "Deal? What are you..." Snapping back around again. "Don't listen to him! He's playing you!"

"Ah yes," Giancarlo said and nodded, ignoring Marcus and walking to the side. "You have it with you?"

"Of course," I said and turned my head. "Melinda? It's time."

I had not fully filled her in on what was going to happen but I had instructed her to do one thing when I asked her. I could see her nervous face through the windshield, hesitating but nodding. One of the back doors opened and she stepped out.

"Her! She's one of them! He's controlling her!" Marcus blabbered. Giancarlo just motioned to his guards and on cue gave Marcus another air expelling gut punch, effectively silencing him.

Another moment of thick silence passed as we waited for Melinda. She walked around the back of the car and opened the trunk. A moment later she slammed it shut before beginning to walk around the car, coming up next to me.

She had a small black dufflebag in her hand, straining to hold it up to me. I just nodded towards Giancarlo who was looking on with interest. She hesitated again, her nervousness turning to outright trepidation. A shaky breath, that was all she did, before beginning to walk towards the man, her footsteps and Marcus's troubled breathing the only sound around us.

"A million dollars," I called. "And I've got your word that they won't be harmed?"

Giancarlo just smirked in my direction, watching Melinda approach. "You have my word."

Marcus coughed. "What... are-" he managed to croak out.

"You don't have to worry," I said, again sounding sad. "Nothing will happen to them. I've taken care of it. I think I owe you that much."

Of course I was referring to Cassandra and Anastasia. It took him all of a second to realize this, his renewed struggles nearly catching his captors off guard. He didn't get more than a few steps on his knees though.

"Don't...! Don't you dare! You don't touch them!" he yelled and tried to shake the arms grasping him off.

Shaking my head in a sad way I said, "I will make sure they're alright. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

Marcus roared and tried again to get to his feet and charge me. The guards seemed to have had enough though, both of them turning their rifles around, using their ends to beat him. It was... hard to watch.

Melinda, too, jumped at the sudden commotion, but didn't stop her slow trek. Once she reached Giancarlo she nervously held out the bag, her arms shaking from either nervousness or the weight of the bag. Probably both.

He took it and gave her a toothy grin. "Grazie bambolina."

When she turned around it was with a look of relief on her face. I saw her glance in Marcus's direction as she made her way back towards me, a bit faster going than before. Halfway back though, she did something unexpected. She turned her direction, towards Marcus.

"Melinda," I cut in, hard. She stopped and looked at me, a sudden scowl on her face.

"You owe me," she spat. Not loud or disrespectful, just a statement.

Pushing my jaw forward I let it crack, thinking for two full seconds. I did owe her. Three more things in fact. A sharp nod, that was all I gave her. She returned it before taking the last few steps towards Marcus. Giancarlo, he looked more amused than anything, and his lack of reaction kept the guards from interfering.

She squatted down just in front of him, the two guards the only thing holding him up. His head hung low, face bloody and beaten. Grabbing a firm hold of his hair she pulled him eyelevel to her. He spluttered but didn't say anything.

I didn't hear what she said to him, leaned in close to his ear, but what she did when she stood back up made it obvious that it couldn't have been anything good. In the motion of standing up, swift and without hesitation, she pulled his head forward and planted her knee square in the center of it.

One time.

Two times.

Three times.

When she went for the fourth the guard on her right held out his hand to stop her. For a second I thought the crazed woman would actually push past him but then she huffed and released her grip on Marcus's hair. Now with a bloody knee she strode the last few steps back to me.

Marcus groaned. Beaten. Defeated.

I nodded again, more to myself than anything, watching him.

"Make it quick? Painless?" I asked without looking away.

Giancarlo chuckled and held up the bag with the money, gesturing to it with his other hand. "That, not part of the deal."

Oh well. At least I tried. I stifled a shrug, not wanting to show how little I cared.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The subsequent car ride was deathly silent. Neither Melinda nor I said a word for the better half of the ride. She seemed calm enough but after her little stunt... it was hard to tell. She might have just been in shock.

It wasn't until we were back out on bigger roads that I broke the silence in the form of making a phone call. It beeped four times before it connected.

"Yeah?" the familiar voice said, tired.

"You did good," I said. "Very good."

There was a moments pause. "Can you leave me the fuck alone now?"

I chuckled and shook my head, even though, of course, the recipient couldn't see it. "Not a chance. Although I suspect it'll be a while before you hear from me again, Hwei-ru, if that is even your real name."

A tired sigh. "Of course it isn't, jackass."

"I don't really care," I said. "But you did good. And as promised; you no longer feel repulsed by your boyfriend. You feel exactly the same way about him as you did a week ago."

Another sigh, a little more relieved. No response though.

"Get some rest, agent. You sound like shit," I said before hanging up the call.

Melinda gave me a glance but said nothing. Of course she knew that the video was fake. After all, she had been there when I gave Miss Sofie the instructions. It had turned out way, way better than I had expected though. Sofie, Hwei-ru, whatever her name was, was one hell of an actor, maybe even rivaling my own skill. The robotic voice, especially, was a genius move that I hadn't even told her to do. I idly wondered how she had managed it. Probably through software morphing her own voice.

After yet another few minutes of silence Melinda finally spoke up.

"You're cold," she said, more like a mumble than outright speech.

"Hm?" I let out.

"Cold blooded, I mean," she clarified, a little louder.

I gave her a quick glance. She looked normal. Bored almost. "Me? I wasn't the one who kneed him in the face. He was already finished, defeated."

"That's because I hate, hated, his guts. You, though, you actually called him a friend," she said.

Huh. I guess she had a point there. Maybe I was a psychopath after all. Or maybe a sociopath. It had occurred to me before but I had never really dwelled on it. They say you're not supposed to diagnose yourself but damn if I didn't share several traits with the clinical description of one.