The Kingdom Ch. 12

"Right," I replied shortly in disbelief. "Got a name, soldier?"

"My codename is Alpha."

"Yeah- I'm not calling you that," I replied bluntly.

"Look," the voice said, sounding irritated. "There are dangerous forces at play. You'd be wise to hear me out."

"And why should I trust you?" I challenged. "For all I know, this could be some kind of set-up."

"If anyone in Kingdom management had discovered your identity as I have, you'd already have been taken into custody," he replied bluntly. "And they certainly wouldn't have gone to such lengths to this meeting secret."

"Lengths?" I challenged.

"The ultrasonic pest repellent you plugged in emits a high-pitch frequency that should impair any nearby listening devices," the voice explained, his words rolling quickly off his tongue. "The insulated bag you placed all of your belongings in will block electrical signals from any devices that may have been planted on your person. And the hood you're wearing will shield your voice from all non-electric forms of surveillance. Like I said, so long as your volume remains below 65 decibels, this conversation should be completely private."

I paused, considering his words. While my natural instinct was to remain skeptical, I couldn't help but feel impressed. He really did appear to have all of his bases covered. It was hard to imagine bullshitting such an elaborate cover story. But as legitimate as his explanation seemed, I'd lost a great deal of good will towards strangers over the last several days. After all I'd been through, I had no choice but to be distrustful. From this point forward, it was best to just assume that everyone was an enemy...

Growing impatient, I decided to break the silence. "So, you've got me in private," I said. "Spill it. What did you want with me?"

"Aside from warning you of the surveillance detail that's been planted on you," he explained, "I need to discuss the suitcase that was delivered to your suite. I assume you still have it?"

"Aaand there it is," I interjected. "You know, you almost had me with the whole Kyle Reese act until you brought up the suitcase."

"Excuse me?" the voice asked.

"The last person who mentioned a suitcase literally tried to kill me for it," I added. The voice didn't reply. "You may know her, actually! Brandy Michaels? Ever heard of her? Or perhaps you know her by her codename. Delta... something foxtrot. Ring any bells?"

The voice on the other end remained silent.

"Bueller?" I pressed antagonistically.

"Look, whatever may have happened before," the voice explained, "-it's critical that the suitcase be safely recovered."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged. "And why might that be?"

"I'm unable to disclose any further details," the voice answered cryptically.

"Horse shit," I spat.

"For your own safety, the details of our operation have to remain classified," the voice replied in a forceful voice.

"Our?" I dug. There was silence on the other end. "So how many are there in your little squad?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," the voice replied.

"I assume Brandy was one of them, so there's at least two of you," I deduced. The voice remained silent. "Come on," I prodded. "Don't pretend like you don't know her. You both have codenames from the NATO phonetic alphabet for fuck's sake. The bitch tried to kill me. The least you can do is have the balls to explain why."

The voice hesitated before replying, "Foxtrot had no intention of killing you."

"Oh really?" I shot back. "She could've fooled me as I suffocated beneath her elbow."

"I won't defend her behavior," he replied, his tone sounding almost remorseful. "What she did to you was wrong-"

"Gee- thanks, captain obvious," I replied snarkily. "I'm not asking for validation. I want to know why!"

"All I can tell you," the voice explained in a restrained voice. "-is that the operation's success is contingent upon the recovery of the suitcase-"

"Well, so long as she did it for the operation then she was justi-" I retorted, sarcastically.

"I'm not trying to justify her actions," the voice interrupted. "I've already stated that she was wrong. I'm just trying to explain her motivation."

"Well, as convincing as this good cop routine is, if you're not gonna explain what the hell is going on, I'm gonna sign off," I stated definitively.

I heard a long sigh on his end. I could tell he was growing frustrated. "There are a lot lives at stake," he said.

I didn't say anything. For the first time in this conversation, my interest had been peaked...

"Over 200 lives to be exact," he added. His voice now sounded tired and more defeated. "All of whom are women in who, unbeknownst to them, are being recruited into a human smuggling ring." My heart suddenly dropped to the bottom of my chest. "Three months here will seem like a cakewalk compared to the lifetime of sexual slavery that awaits them..."

I no longer felt the urge to issue a snappy comeback. This new disturbing development was definitely unexpected...

"Everything depends of the safe recovery of that suitcase," he added. "The tools we need to save these women and bring these monsters to justice are inside. For every second it's out of my possession, the less chance of success this operation has of succeeding..."

This story had just taken a turn for the terrifying. If this guy was telling the truth, then I was essentially dooming hundreds of women by refusing to help him... Too overwhelmed to speak, I remained silent.

The compassionate side of me wanted to hand over the suitcase and be done. But if this was actually an elaborate scheme to entrap me, I could end up being held responsible for the suitcase and its unknown contents... In all likelihood, I'd be thrown back in the kennel so fast my head would spin. And this time, there'd be no Katie to save me...

"I... don't have it." I replied, instantly feeling ashamed of myself. While, it wasn't technically untrue, I still felt like a piece of shit. As far as I knew, the suitcase was still in Laura's cubicle at the Trading Post with all of my other belongings. There was a long pause where nobody said anything. I held my breath as I silently waited for a reply.

"Under the circumstances, I understand your distrust," he finally answered, passively calling out my bluff. "I can't blame you for being skeptical after what you've been through. If you can find it in yourself to keep this conversation between the two of us, I'll simply need to find another way to gain your trust."

I felt a large lump form in the back of my throat. Of all the tough choices I'd made over the last week, this one was heavy. I silently prayed I was making the right decision...

"In the meantime, please listen carefully to my next instructions," the voice said urgently. "The information I'm about to give you is of utmost importance. Are you ready?"

"Yes," I said softly.

"Okay," he replied. "First things first- purchase the hood that you're wearing. If anyone were to discover the COM device inside, it could expose the operation and put you at risk. Buy the hood and take it with you. In short order, I'll send you instructions for how to destroy it. Keep your phone charged and in your possession at all times. As I said before, do not attempt to respond to my messages, as outgoing signals are not secure. Simply swipe up to clear each notification once it's been read and dedicated to memory."

I hung on each of his words, sensing the gravity in his voice.

"Trust no one," he added. "Assume that everyone is an unfriendly and that there are eyes and ears everywhere. Be mindful of anyone wearing a red probation collar. Red collars are different from black ones, in that they're equipped with an audio transmitter. Everything spoken within earshot will be used against you."

The more Alpha spoke, the more I found myself believing him. If he was bluffing, then he'd crafted himself a remarkably convincing script...

"And most importantly," he concluded, "-keep the suitcase hidden wherever it currently is. That suitcase is the key to everything. Without it, the operation has zero chance of success..."

I remained silent, neither confirming nor denying that I was moved by any of this.

"I'll be in touch. Keep your phone on," he said. And then, I heard a click.

I stood still for several seconds, listening to the sound of my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears. Once I'd given myself some time to process everything that I'd heard, I reached up and found the squeeze pump of my inflatable hood. I twisted the metal dial at its base, allowing for the air to release. After a few seconds, the pressure had been released from my face and ears, allowing me to pull the hood off my head.

The cool air felt wonderful against my hot and sticky face. The scream-o music blaring from the speaker above could once again be heard and I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the bright florescent light. But as soon as my eyes came into focus, I let out a shriek and leapt backward, colliding with the mirrored wall behind me. Standing in front of me in the doorway of the dressing room was the fat employee with the toupee.

"What the Fuck?!" I yelled, covering my naked body as best I could with my hands.

"You've been in here for like... ten minutes," he replied. "Others are waiting to use the fitting room."

"So, you just let yourself in?!" I responded loudly. "Ever hear of knocking?"

"I have been knocking," he replied.

"Well close the door so I can get my clothes back on!" I responded. He raised his hands defensively and closed the door.

What the hell was wrong with this place?! I thought, exhaling in disbelief. I unzipped the bag that I'd stowed all of my clothes in and quickly got dressed. Half a minute later, I stormed out of the fitting room, my belongings and hood in tow.

Wanting to leave this place as quickly as possible, I scanned the market for a register to pay at. During the regular faire season, each vendor checked customers out from their own station. Now, however, there seemed to be a unified checkout at the front of the market. As I made my way closer, I groaned at the sight of the line of customers waiting to pay.

I bounced impatiently on the balls of my feet as I joined the line. Only one register appeared to be open and the cashier appeared to be in no hurry as she chitchatted with her customers.

Letting out a long sigh, I pulled out my phone again to see if the man called Alpha had written. Nothing. Between our unnerving conversation and my naked confrontation with the fat employee, I was understandably a little on edge...

But just as soon as I'd regained my composure, I jumped in surprise by sudden movement to my left. The black latex-clad manikin next to me had suddenly started twitching and violently shaking. From it's hooded head emitted a high-pitched muffled squeal...

Having been caught off-guard, I backed frantically away from the figure. It took me a few seconds connect the dots for what I was looking at. The manikin wasn't a manikin... It was a real person!

The busty cat-suited figure in front of me was seated on a stool with her legs together on one side. One of her hands rested manikin-like on her hip and the other on the armrest of the stool. My jaw dropped as I saw her chest rapidly rising up and down. A platinum blonde ponytail swayed back and forth from the hole in her hood as the wearer's head shook back and forth in apparent protest.

Horrified, I could do nothing but stare. Her gloved fists were clenched into balls and I could see her leg muscles bulging through her cat suit. Tilting my head to the side, I was able to make out a steel-pipe frame behind her. The pipes mimicked her body and limb position and appeared to be secured to each of her joints by hidden straps. The stool itself was bolted to the floor, keeping her upright and balanced.

After a few seconds of gaping in horror, I realized that the pathetic squealing noises were not only hers. The entire store had been filled with the chilling chorus of muffled squeals and groans. Spinning slowly around, I saw what looked to be nearly a dozen hooded and latex-clad women in various manikin positions, twitching and squirming in their otherwise frozen states. As their audible expressions of discomfort continued, laughter and taunts could be heard from the male customers in the store.

After roughly 30 seconds, all of the manikins collectively relaxed and stopped making noise.

"What the hell-" I whispered, stepping hesitantly back toward the manikin. As I approached, I noticed an electric e-reader-style plaque located in front of her. Leaning in, I read the fine print.

Thank you for visiting Sycamore Market! My name is Vicki and I'm employed through the Kingdom's residency program. The outfit I'm wearing is:

Mytex G-Suit: Full-Enclosure PVC Body Suit

Size Medium

Available in Black, Red, and White

Please feel free to touch and tease me. I promise I won't/can't bite ;)

Beneath the e-reader plaque was a laminated piece of paper that read:

DISCLAIMER: Each manikin is equipped with a vibrating dildo, anal spreading pear plug, and TENS patches over each nipple. With each purchase made, all vibrating dildos will be remotely activated, anal plugs will temporarily expand by 30%, and the TENS patches will receive electric stimulation. The duration of these stimulants will depend upon the dollar amount spent.

$1 -- $49.........................15 seconds

$50 -- $100.....................45 seconds

$100+...........................3 minutes

Thank you for shopping at Sycamore Market! Enjoy!

My jaw hung incredulously for several seconds after I finished reading. I looked back up at the manikin who had since unclenched her fists and appeared to be more at peace than she was a few seconds earlier. Shit, this place just kept getting more and more fucked up!

"I can take the next customer over here," said a low voice, snapping me out of my thoughts. The fat employee with the toupee who had barged in on me naked was gesturing to the man in front of me in line.

"Uh, actually- you can go ahead of me," the man said to me, as he dug through his shopping basket for something. Great, I thought. I get to see the fat guy again.

I approached the counter with a furrowed brow, determined to make my displeasure toward the employee known. Without saying anything, I slid the boxed hood across the counter. The employee avoided eye contact and scanned the barcode.

"That'll be... seventy-nine, fifty," he said in his stupid monotone voice.

Impatiently, I swiped my key card through the card reader. As soon as the sale went through, I heard a chorus of muffled high-pitched shrieks and squeals throughout the market. Predictably, this was followed by the sound of more laughter and applause from the male customers. I rolled my eyes in disgust at my involuntary contribution to this sick fuckery. The fat toupee guy hesitated before handing me my receipt.

"Okay- I have to ask," he said after some apparent contemplation. "Were you seriously just standing naked in the fitting room talking to yourself in a sensory deprivation hood?"

I glared back at him. "So what if I was?" I spat.

He stared at me silently for several seconds, before following up with- "...Why?"

"Why are you wearing a fucking beaver carcass on your head?" I countered childishly, nodding to his toupee. "Mind your damn business." I snatched the box and receipt from his hand and stormed out of the building.

I really was starting to loathe this place... I never could have imagined hating the faire that Uncle Henry and I had poured our hearts and souls into. Seeing it repurposed into a pervy sex retreat was bad enough. But learning that it might also be a hub for sex trafficking was downright nauseating. And if Alpha was telling the truth, I now had to worry about spies watching my every move...

I needed a place to sit and think. But I couldn't just "sit and think". If unfriendly eyes were actually watching me, I needed to sit and think in such a way that appeared to be natural. Otherwise, I'd risk drawing suspicion, which would only reinforce their interest in spying on me... Damn, my life had gotten complicated.

So, I decided to do what any other stressed out millennial would do. I made my way toward the nearest coffee house. Hopefully, the Olde Java Joint was still a thing.

As I rounded the corner of Centre Street and Crown, I sighed in relief to see that the coffee house still in business. I entered through the swinging doors and joined the back of the long line. Feeling my phone buzz, I pulled it out to see a new notification waiting for me at the top of my screen.

Message from 01:

TO DESTROY HOOD, RUN THROUGH A CYCLE IN THE SUITE'S WASHER/DRYER.

I swiped up and shoved my phone back in my pocket, staring emotionless at the back of the customer in front of me. After an obnoxiously long wait in line, I finally got my salted caramel latté and plopped myself down at an unoccupied chair and table in the outside patio area. I sat silently, sipping slowly at my tall mug of caffeine.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn't stop replaying my conversation with Alpha in my head. The implications of his words weighed on me like a ton of bricks. The last time I'd felt this uncertain and conflicted was when I was contemplating signing Notts' Faire over to Becca. But this felt so much worse. If Alpha was actually genuine, it meant that hundreds of women's lives literally depended on me... Not their livelihoods. Their lives.

I wanted to run away as fast as I could. March up to the exit, turn in my keycard, forget my million-dollar prize, and just leave. But no sooner did I consider this, I remembered Katie. Leaving now would mean that Katie would remain behind as Murphy's slave. The thought of her being abused by his machines day in and day out was not something I could live with. There was no way I could leave her to that kind of fate for three months.

But it wasn't purely my sense of obligation that kept me from fleeing this place. Staying behind for Katie did have its upsides. Despite Alpha's warnings not to trust anyone, the idea of Katie moving in was still exciting... The thought her company actually lifted my spirits. This both surprised and scared me. The rational side of my brain told me to heed Alpha's advice and remain isolated. The irrational side, however, longed for someone to unload to and confide in. With Katie sacrificing her job and freedom on my behalf, I couldn't imagine anyone more trustworthy than her.

But beneath all the logic and illogic, there was just something about the thought of the curly-haired brunette that put me at ease... And ease was precisely what I needed right about now.

Suddenly, the sound of chimes echoed from the clock tower in the distance, snapping me out of my daydream. I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. What time was it?

I pulled out my phone to see that it was 7:00pm. Holy shit. It was 7 o'clock already? Leaving my empty mug on the table I hopped up and briskly exited the café patio. Given how eager Katie had been earlier, I could only imagine how ready she was check out.

Speed-walking down the street toward the health clinic, I weaved through the hoards of pedestrians like a pro. As typical at this hour, Centre Street was packed and bustling.