W & Little D Ch. 01

"We will be there in about twelve hours," she said firmly and disconnected her end of the call.

As soon as Sis hung up, I called the number. As expected, it was answered with just the number. There was a time when all Agency phones were answered with just the number, but now only the dedicated security numbers are answered that way.

"This is W," I said, "I believe you are expecting my call."

"What is your full name?" a male voice asked firmly. "My full name is W," I replied. "I worked for you a long time ago and now my little sister needs my help... and yours."

A different voice interrupted. "W," he said quickly, "is the scene contained?"

"They cut in through a closet floor from the apartment below," I said quickly. "I can't verify what is going on down there, but things are contained here."

"A team will be there within ten minutes," he said. "Is there anything you can tell us about the kidnappers?"

"They made threats with sexual overtones and left a naked picture of Denise," I answered.

"Damn," I heard him mutter. "Tell the team I will be arriving shortly."

A little less than five minutes later I heard someone put a key in the front door of Sis's apartment.

"Open that door very slowly," I said loudly, "I have a Glock 22 pointed at you so you'd better have your identification ready.

A hand reached around the door and held out an Agency Security ID.

"Is it safe to enter?" a female voice asked.

"My Glock is down, but ready," I replied.

The door swung slowly open. A strikingly beautiful woman and a rather short, barrel-like man stood in the opening.

"Small world, isn't it, W?" Eleanora Marshall said with a smile.

"You two know each other?" the short man said.

"We have a professional acquaintance," I said tersely. "I build specialized equipment that Ms Marshall is interested in."

"That Mistress Nora is interested in," she said, again smiling. "Hugo knows all about me. My contacts in the scene are why I was recruited for this job." She paused and then said, "I'm working on contract for a special operation."

"I was supposed to tell you that he will be right here," I said flatly, "only he never gave me his name."

"You will know him," she replied flatly as she walked over to the bedroom As soon as she entered it she said almost angrily, "This isn't good."

I really wanted to say, "No shit, Sherlock," but instead followed her silently into the room.

She walked over to the paper still taped to the inside of the closet door and leaned over to examine it more carefully.

"They want us to know that they will deliver her to slave traffickers," she said firmly, almost angrily. "It is their message that we should leave them alone."

"So the ransom demand will not be money," I said from behind her. "What will it be?"

Eleanora turned slowly to face me and said, "This isn't your standard trafficker organization. They don't supply low level whores and sex workers like the typical organization. They cater to elite customers who have specific... tastes."

"Someone rich enough to buy a well-broken-in, true sex slave," I replied flatly.

"Yes," she replied. "They operate world wide and use world wide social media as their menu." She huffed and then laughed in a flat sort of way. "What some girls post online these days. They show just about everything and talk about things that a girl wouldn't even put in her private diary when I was a kid."

"Yeah," I said, "the good old days. But we live in today." I paused and then said, "Nothing else to see here. Let's go downstairs and see if they left any clues as to who they are."

I took a minute to secure my Glocks back in their case, then we took the stairs down to the thirty-ninth floor. One of the units was already open and men in white paper coveralls with blue booties on their shoes were walking in and out. Agent Hugo held up his credentials and said, "These two have access, if possible."

"Go ahead," one of the men in white replied. "There's nothing in there. They put up plastic sheets to contain the area they worked in and then sprayed everything down with a mixture of bleach, detergent, and hydrogen peroxide before they left."

He pointed to two circular stains on the carpet in the hallway. "We figure they used commercial pump sprayers." He shook his head and said, "Someone hacked into the security system and deleted videos from certain cameras over the past nine days. We know when they came and went, but have no record of who they are."

"Get your report to the boss as soon as possible," Hugo said and then turned to me and motioned with his hand for us to enter.

The place was a wet mess. Concrete dust mixed with a strong smelling liquid covered the floors. The hanging plastic we walked through to get to the bedroom was glistening with the same liquid. A strange-looking machine was sitting in the bedroom. On top of a big hydraulic cylinder was a square piece of concrete the exact size of the hole in Little D's closet. Lower down was a strange square of rounded stainless steel pipe with a nozzle that evidently rode around the pipe like it was on a track. The thin high pressure hose connected to the nozzle led into the kitchen where there was a pump connected to the water pipes under the sink.

"It probably took them a better part of a week to cut through there," I said. "They had to keep the pressure to a minimum and they could work only at night. Denise could hear them, but she thought it was bugs running around in her bedroom."

"Well, there's nothing to see here," a voice said gruffly from behind me. "You will no longer be needed, W. We will take it from here."

I felt bile rising in my throat. I recognized the voice. It was Anthony Bricker, often called Pricker by those who have ever worked with or under him. He was a high-level case officer with the Agency. Our paths had crossed once or twice before. It wasn't pleasant for either of us.

I really wanted to tell this arrogant bastard where to shove it, but instead I said, "As you know, I have some rather special talents and contacts that could help with this."

Bricker turned toward me and said brusquely, "I said your assistance will not be needed, W. Please leave." He then shoved me slightly on the shoulder.

I said nothing. I just turned around and walked out of the apartment and returned to the fortieth floor. Bricker followed me every step of the way. When I got there I discovered that my clothes had already been packed into my suitcases. My computer was sitting on the kitchen table with a very young tech working on it.

Bricker said gruffly, "You're already packed, W. Since the guns are legal and properly permitted, they are inside the suitcase." He pointed toward the kitchen and added in almost a growl, "Your computer will be returned to you when we are finished with it."

He then handed me my watch, keys, and billfold and nodded toward the door. I took them, but instead of leaving, I walked into the kitchen.

"You have some very impressive encryption," the young tech said cheerfully as I entered the room.

"It has some other impressive features," I said as I triggered the key fob in my hand.

That particular key doesn't fit anything, but the fob, if you press the buttons in the right order, triggers a self-destruct on the laptop. The tech jumped back with a screech as the laptop burst into flames in front of him.

I turned to walk back into the living room, but Bricker was blocking my way. "I offered to work with you," I said softly as I stepped around him. I tried not to sound too sarcastic or vindictive as I picked up my suitcase and left, saying "Nice to have met you," to agent Hugo on my way out.

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END OF CHAPTER ONE

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