Catch Me If You Can (The Mancini Way) (5 page)

The men I'm currently surrounded by today are under the misguided belief that I'm an expert in the trafficking of human flesh along with many other sordid things. My portfolio, or at least the one serving this particular purpose, claims that I always get the job done: no losses, no repercussions. They were paying me millions to carry out their dirty work. Three million in fact for the swift and undetected transport of ten teenaged Asian girls who had been hand picked by a handful of wealthy elitist twisted fucks who in turn were willing to pay ten times that or more for the procurement of what would amount to sex slaves.

My part in that is the hardest, herding these girls together on a ship in China and hiding them through customs until they disembarked off the shores of America. Then if all goes well according to their agenda one of their henchmen will take possession of the merchandise and be in the wind, the young victims never to be seen or heard from again, at least not by anyone from their past.

This particular run has been in the works for two months; believe it or not the selling of human beings is easier than the world has been led to believe; the acquiring of human flesh for all manner of despicable services is big business. It's my estimation that some men and women once they've amassed astronomical sums of money lose their fucking minds and anything resembling a conscience. These beings then become so bored that they throw each other little secret parties where they concoct some of the sickest shit your mind could ever imagine and then some.

This scheme is the brainchild of one such demon; he somehow convinced nine of his cohorts that this was the next best thing to do. These highly esteemed douche bags some of whom were even now joking about the demise of these children has made this into an art form.

By day they’re the supposed law-abiding upstanding citizens representing their respective nations on foreign soil; by night they're every child's worst nightmare.

Both factions were led by one common denominator, money; one had too much and so turned to using it for evil purposes while the other for their own love and greed of it were willing to do anything up to and including selling their souls to attain it. The delegates saw nothing wrong with selling their countrymen and women into all manner of horrific situations, their consciences were clear because these particular children were from families of lower class, and hey, the place was over populated anyway right? Fucking assholes.

"So we're set gentlemen yeah?" I needed to get the fuck out of there quick before I said fuck it and offed every last man in the room, couldn’t rush my hand their time will come.

"You will let us know how everything goes with the merchandise immediately yes, our clients are very anxious to accept delivery."

Yeah and then I'll snap your fucking neck you pig

Chapter 5

Cierra

"Cierra Stone, paging Cierra Stone."

"Shit Gracie! What can that be about now?" I put the brush down and turned to my roommate.

"You won't know until you go see."

"I hope there isn't anything more for me to study, this guy is like a freaking shadow as it is, I don't know why they think I'll be any help since they haven't been able to nail him in the last ten years or so and I’m not sure why they need a profiler on this one, hasn’t he been profiled to death?"

"Girl kill that noise, you know you have mad skills beyond profiling otherwise they'd never have tapped you for the job, besides that piece of eye candy is the best subject they've got going in the bureau these days yum." She twitched her eyebrows at me in her comical way.

"How can you tell? Every picture's a profile shot, it's almost as if he knows where the cameras are and keeps his face in the shadows."

"Well I heard from this girl that was in one of my classes that he's fuck hot and rumor has it that he's hung like a gorilla." She was all but drooling now.

"I think gorillas are supposed to have small dicks." I think I saw that on the discovery channel but I couldn’t be sure.

"You know what I mean."

"Gracie you do know I'm supposed to be gathering info to put this guy away for a long, long time right? Not trying to jump him."

"Nothing wrong with enjoying the scenery while you're at it now is there?"

Gracie was the least likely candidate for the Academy, a brash, loud talking always ready to throw down as she terms it African American beauty with chocolate brown skin and the most piercing black eyes with the purest whites. She looked about fifteen except for her height of five ten which towered over my five three stature. From our first day together at the Academy we’d just hit it off, our backgrounds weren’t much different; Gracie grew up about an hour or so away in D.C.’s inner city. Tough streets for anyone but even more so for a young girl who’s father had been gunned down for his part in a neighborhood watch. She’d had to stay in that environment her whole life until her quick brain and aptitude for science got her out. Now she was thought to be someone to watch in the field of forensic science. Though we’d mentioned our families and what had happened to them, we’d never actually come out and said that it was because of these incidents that we had fought so hard to get where we are. I sometimes wondered if we had the same agenda; though her father’s murderer had been caught and tried there’d always been speculation that there was more involved and that all the players had not been brought to justice.

"I've got to go, Durant isn't known for his patience."

"Lucky duck, I bet they're calling to send you on your way, oh New York and the great Hank Mancini."

"I can only hope, I've been studying this guy so long now it's like I know his every move."

"Don't get too cocky I bet everyone who's gone after him felt the same way in the beginning."

"I've learned from their mistakes, I won't be making the same." I left the dorm like room that I'd been sharing with the other woman for the past six months; I'd fast tracked it through Quantico ever since they'd snatched me up my senior year at Vassar. It was a dream job for me, something I'd worked towards my whole life, ever since a mad man had killed my parents and my younger brother when I was eight. My dream of becoming a ballerina had died a fiery death on a little hill in Maryland. On that day something had been born in me, a thirst for vengeance. The need to bring criminals to justice; it had become my passion, I'd spent everyday since then with a few exceptions focused on achieving that goal and nothing was going to stand in the way.

In school I'd flung my way through my classes; always at the top, scholarships had helped a poor orphan from the worst part of Baltimore's inner city make it into one of the nation's leading schools from where I'd caught the notice of the Bureau; just where I wanted to be. The animal that had slaughtered my family had never been caught and I will never rest until that day came, if I had to babysit a master criminal like Hank Mancini in the meantime, then whatever it takes; there's nothing stopping me from working on both things at the same time.

"You wanted to see me director?”

"Come in, sit down."

Well hello to you too; my superior was to say the least...abrasive; he's a gruff no nonsense type who never smiles and rarely laughs, at least not that I've noticed and although he'd offered praise when I did well in my exercises like the Connell case a few days ago, this was his usual way. He could praise you with one breath and tear you apart with the next. His nickname around the bureau is chuckles, which no one would ever dare call him to his face. Whatever the case he's been director for almost twenty -five years, one of the longest terms in the history of the bureau.

I took my seat in one of the visitor's chairs across from his desk folded my arms and crossed my legs. His office was very much like his personality, Spartan, neat and everything in its place there wasn’t so much as a paper clip out of place. Pictures of his wife, kids and grandkids graced the top of his huge high glossed mahogany desk. The wall behind him was covered with varying certificates of his achievements as well as awards for his service to his country.

"You leave tomorrow morning at seven that'll put you in New York at about roughly ten o'clock, an agent Peter Sarkozy will be there to meet you and debrief you on the subject’s latest movements. You've been given his portfolio and should've already studied him and become very well acquainted with the way he works. Hank Mancini is an enigma; no one knows the real man and we barely understand his public persona. He comes from one of the wealthiest families in the country went to the best schools and had the opportunity to be anything he wanted to be in this life; he chose instead to be a criminal. In almost ten years we've not been able to pin any one thing on him but where there's smoke there's usually fire and he’s surrounded by a lot of smoke.”

Or the smoke could just be vapor; of course I didn't say that out loud I didn't want to commit professional suicide after all but the truth is I've studied all the info I'd been given and something just didn't ring true. Hank Mancini had been an exceptional student his whole scholastic career until his nineteenth year. He'd been an upstanding citizen for all intents and purposes then for some unfathomable reason he’d simply dropped off the face of the earth not to be heard from again until six years later at the age of twenty- five. Now almost nine years later he was still evading law enforcement and on the rare occasion that he was actually brought in he just slipped through somehow without so much as a blemish on his record.

He's been on the FBI's most wanted list in the top billing for eight years running and now the job has fallen to me since so many others before me have failed, to find out the truth about the man and bring him down, bring him to justice if need be. No one seemed in doubt of his guilt, his movements were just too suspect according to law enforcement, it was not very well known in the bureau how he first came to be on our radar, that hadn’t been in any of the research I’d done which in itself was a mystery but my job was not to question my superiors no matter how much I might want to know. The problem is I'm not so sure of what I was looking for, it had all been done already as far as I could tell. Each time we got a whiff of something to do with the great Mancini we sent someone out, and each time they came back with their tales between their legs or their ass handed to them. Not only that but the guy was a career ender, quite a few of my colleagues had lost their jobs or positions after tussling with this guy and I knew what my superiors expected of me as the only female to ever go up against this mastermind; they didn't just want me to use my mind, I was pretty sure they wanted me to use a lot more than that if push came to shove; that’s how desperate they’d become.

Mancini

I needed a little downtime to get the stench of the last few days off of me so I decided to relax by taking my boat out on the water for a little spin. One of my pleasures sailing, in fact I like anything to do with leisure, yachting, racing boats, cars and bikes; I even enjoyed a little rock climbing every once in a while. Those things kept me sharp because they involved staying very focused in order to avoid danger.

Today with the business of filth out of the way my mind turned to more pleasant enticements; like the eyes of one Cierra Stone. I felt the tightening pull in my gut at the memory of what she looked like; on my desk at home in my personal office I had a glossary that I'd already collected since learning of her existence. By the time the beauty came into my atmosphere I will know her inside and out as much I'm sure as she probably believes she knows me. For some strange reason I found that I was reluctant to dig into her past at this particular time, not while I was dealing with the scum of the earth, and that in itself was very telling as well, since when did I care about such menial things? I was beginning to get just a little worried about the strange hold she seemed to have on me; it was her eyes, those amazing sky blue orbs had seemed to look right through me. If I weren’t careful she’d have me falling at her feet before she even landed and that couldn’t be allowed. The lady was coming here to study me in order to put me away for a long long time after all, only a fool would be interested in getting burnt like that.

There was nothing for it though I’d seen and I’d wanted and what Hank Mancini wanted he usually took. Too bad we'll have to do the waltz before I can take her to bed but make no mistake about it, she will be gracing my bed before long.

The next day was spent at home locked away behind closed doors going over everything I needed to do in order for my latest operation to go off without a hitch, I couldn’t pay too much attention to the feds and whoever else were on me this week I had innocents depending on me and nothing was going to stand in the way of that. They never knew where I was or what I was doing always in my dust which I’m sure was a bone of contention for them, I wasn’t too torn up about it though, I hated them as much as they hated me.

Having law enforcement on your ass twenty four seven wasn’t very fun though so I’d devised ways of out maneuvering them for the past six or seven years, now they were hard pressed to even catch an occasional glimpse of me unless I wanted to fuck with them just for kicks which couldn’t be easy for their jobs, how the hell could you watch someone you couldn’t see? But still they persisted.

That night I went to one of my clubs to unwind; it was my night to see and be seen I guess you could say and not even the entertainment up on stage kept eyes off of me. This was my favorite place I bought it as an escape from my daily life and I've made sure this place stayed free of all that other bullshit that usually played out in night clubs; no drugs no strippers no under the table dealings of any kind. I paid my guys top dollar to see that things stayed that way. The liquor was top shelf all the way the food above par and entertainment was always top billing. Tonight's band was a red-hot European techno group whose latest CD had gone platinum; they cost a mint but the door charge alone will more than pay for it. There were private booths for the more upscale clientele who preferred privacy along with their entertainment; no sexual activities allowed though. The VIP rooms are always occupied by some socialite or diplomatic businessman or someone who had the money to afford the hourly rate. I come from money so I understand better than most that money brings money; people of wealth would rather spend money with their own kind that's why you have society mavens chairing charities instead of the poor housewife who actually knows what the fuck she’s talking about.