The Unlucky (26 page)

“It’s the only way. They have too many cameras, magnetic locks on the doors and security posted outside. I understand from what my sister told me that they even have security posted at several places along the street watching vehicles from over a mile’s distance each way. One word and the place gets locked down. If they can’t get out because of a raid, there’s a large cage, like a panic room in a hiding place under the building. It’s soundproof. In the event of an emergency, the victims are to be herded in there. If all the operators are arrested, anyone inside the panic room will be left to die of starvation as there would be no one to let them out.” Sarah closed her eyes, looking inward, listening. “Only two people know the code to that panic room and they’re both dead. The men in the warehouse don’t know that yet.”

“Wow, you really know your stuff.”

“Most of this I just learned as I spoke it. Trust me. My sister has her own way of doling information out. Pisses me off most times, but everything always works out. In the end, it all works out.”

Diner looked at her again, but Sarah averted her eyes.

She probably heard the uncertainty in my voice.

Chapter 30

Detective Marina Diner drove past the warehouse without slowing to get a look at the building.

“I don’t see any guards posted outside,” Diner said. “You know, something’s telling me this is not a good idea.”

Sarah adjusted herself as the handcuffs were cutting into the flesh of her wrists. And now she had to pee so bad her leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“Pull in up here and turn around. Before we get back, listen to me and listen good because I’ll only have time to say this once.”

Diner slowed to perform the U-turn.

“I’m listening.”

“We’re going in as guests.”

“We are? Whose guests?”

“Diner,” Sarah said, her voice low. “Listen.”

Marina nodded, then pulled back onto Nugget Road heading back the way they had come.

“You’re taking me in to abuse me.”

Diner’s head shot up to look in the mirror.

“Play along, Detective. I’m handcuffed. They will understand this. They will know my face already. And they know who you are.”

“How?”

“Because of Mason.”

Diner slowed the vehicle to pull in to the warehouse’s parking lot.

“You’re going to ask for a medical room,” Sarah said.

“What’s that?”

“No idea, but I’m sure we’re about to find out.” Sarah studied the building trying to find their security, but no one was in sight. “Park up here.”

Diner pulled in beside a BMW and turned the car off.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Leave your weapon in the car.”

“No way.”

“They’ll frisk you. You have no choice. Hide your cell phone, though. Take me in as your prisoner. Ask for the medical room. Lock the door behind you. Then call for backup. Got it?”

“Is that your master plan? All this way and that’s how you expect to bust these guys, from the inside?”

“That’s all I have.”

“How do we get inside?”

Sarah didn’t get a chance to respond as Diner’s door was ripped open. A large bearded man in a black suit stood by the door, a machine gun draped subtly under his suit jacket, the tip sticking out by his thigh.

“Step out of the car, Detective Diner.”

A radio crackled nearby.

Diner snuck a glance at Sarah, then got out. “You got a permit for that thing, Mr. Turner?” she asked.

Not the best way to infiltrate them, Diner.

“Step aside,” Turner ordered.

Behind three different cars, men wearing the same suit as Turner stood with machine guns of their own.

Why does it always have to look so hopeless?

Her leg bounced faster as her bladder threatened to release.

Then her door opened.

“Sarah. Exit the car.”

A slimmer man, clean cut and handsome, wearing the same suit with the same large anti-aircraft gun slung over his shoulder, held the door open for her.

She edged sideways along the car seat, set her feet on the cement and pushed off. He guided her around the car to stand beside Diner.

Sarah counted seven men watching them now. The radio crackled again. Turner touched something on his belt, then placed a finger on his earpiece as he listened to it.

When he removed his finger, he focused his eyes on Diner.

“You’re alone?” His tone wasn’t as much a question as it was surprise. Like,
Really? Why the hell would you come here alone?

Diner nodded. “Just the two of us.” She sang the words in a carefree tone.

That’s how you play this, Diner. Cool.

“Why?” Turner asked.

“She’s mine,” Diner nodded at Sarah. “I’m taking her to the Medical Room.” Diner stopped talking, adjusted her weight, then said, “And when we’re done, ashes to ashes, right?”

Okay, Diner, talk less now. I’m not enjoying this anymore.

“Invites?” he asked. “Pass cards? Anything?”

“In my pocket,” Sarah said, thrusting her hip out slightly.

Diner frowned. Turner offered a brief smile, then it was gone.

The detective eased her finger inside Sarah’s pocket and pulled out the two ID cards Mason had given her in the basement of the funeral home, and then handed them to Turner.

He examined them and nodded. “They’re cleared. IDs are in order.” He walked away. “Take them inside. Make sure Medical Room number two is clean and prepared.” When he was ten feet away, he turned back and looked at them over his shoulder. “Ladies, if you will follow me.”

They started forward. The instant Turner spoke, the seven guards disappeared back to their hiding places. Only the handsome one followed them to the front door of the warehouse.

Turner held the door open as they entered, Diner in the lead. Sarah hoped she remembered to bring her cell phone.

Once inside a two-door chamber that puffed air on them like a bomb scan at an airport, they entered a search area akin to airport security.

Three guards moved in and frisked Diner first. When they were done the manual search, one of the men scanned her body meticulously with an electronic wand. The only thing they pulled out was her cell phone, but then offered it back to her when they were done.

“No weapons, no wires, no listening devices, nothing. She’s clean.”

Turner nodded, then jerked his head toward Sarah.

The same routine was performed on her, but his hands were more probing and certainly rougher. At one point she thought she would knee him in the nose when his face was too close to her crotch during the inspection.

The guard nodded. “Clean.”

At the top of the door behind them, a large, rectangular silver block engaged a magnetic lock. Nothing was getting through that door unless the power was cut.

“Can we hurry this along,” Sarah said. “Gotta pee.”

Neither guard saw the humor, their faces remaining unchanged.

“Tough crowd tonight.”

Diner gave her a stern look.

“Sorry,” Sarah whispered. “Just trying to work on the tension in this room.”

After a minute’s wait, the door in front of them—a bank vault door—clicked as if it was on a timer, and creaked open. When it was fully open, the inside of the waiting area was exposed.

Must’ve cost a lot of money for this kind of security.

They were heralded into a waiting room where champagne and wine was being served. On Sarah’s left, four men in business suits crowded a small bar where a woman in a bikini served drinks.

Diner led them to a red leather sofa against a back wall that had room for two to sit. A well-dressed man in shiny black shoes came up to her and whispered that the Medical Room would be available within minutes.

Sarah didn’t recognize anyone in the waiting area. A quick count came to over a dozen men milling around, drinking, chatting and snacking on crackers and small olives stabbed with toothpicks. The furniture was expensive leather, Italian tile on the floor and paintings of women in various poses adorned the walls.

Naked women meandered throughout the men, offering snacks and beverages. One wore a dog collar with a chain dangling past her hips. Another wore a leather facial mask, and one blonde girl who didn’t look a day over twenty was crawling on the floor, a leash attached to the collar on her neck. In a far corner, a woman wore heels that had to be seven inches high, her toes coming to a point at the floor. She held a leash with a man attached. She ordered the man to heel, then started to walk, stopped, whipped his buttocks with a cat-o-nine tails, and barked another command.

A few men glanced over, but paid little attention to the act guaranteed to be found in a sex circus emporium.

Diner’s uneasiness oozed off her as she grew fidgety beside Sarah. A quick glance this way, a sudden jerk of the head that way. Sarah hoped Diner could hold it together long enough to get inside the room and call for help.

A door opened across from them and a man exited. He was slipping on a suit jacket, a wide grin on his face. Behind him, Sarah caught a glance of a woman tied to the wall, her legs spread wide like she was caught in the middle of a jumping jack and suspended that way. Her purple face and bleeding mouth told Sarah half the story of went on in that room. The other half of the story was the item suspended from the woman’s vagina and the blood dripping from it. Red and purplish lacerations from the man’s belt rippled across her thighs and shins.

Then the door closed, cutting off the sight.

Another woman screeched from down the hallway. It sounded like the high-pitched wail of a dying rabbit.

Diner leaned close to Sarah and whispered, “This is awful. Sarah, I’m scared here. This was a bad idea.”

“I’m scared, too,” Sarah said under her breath.

The man in the suit with the shiny black shoes who had just told Diner her room would be ready soon, approached the man who had just came out of the room in front of them.

“How was Delilah?” he asked. “Did she meet all your expectations?”

“Yes, but she’ll need a month or two to heal,” the man said, an ugly smirk on his face. “Sorry about that. Got carried away this time. I’ll pay the extra needed for her recuperation.”

“That’s no problem.” The suited man spoke as if his voice was made of silk. “That’s what they’re here for. As long as you’ve had your amusement, then we’re all happy. Even Delilah is happy to serve.”

He guided the man to where a drink was placed in his hand by the girl with the dog collar and chain.

The girl met Sarah’s eyes for a brief moment. In that second, Sarah saw the fear, the humiliation, and the disgust for the people around her. This girl didn’t want to be here as much as a concentration camp survivor didn’t want to stay in their camp. But Sarah thought she detected something else in the girl’s eyes. Hopelessness. The girl believed there was no way out. This was her life now, at least what was left of it.

And all thanks to someone like Detective Timothy Simmons.

That’s why Mason let Vanessa leave through the back door.

The man with the shiny shoes stepped in front of them.

“Your room is ready.”

Diner and Sarah followed him down a short hall where they passed two other men exiting rooms.

At the end of the hall, a door opened into an area that looked like the kind a brain surgeon would perform a twelve-hour operation in.

Two tables littered with surgical tools sat in the center of the room. A metal bed covered in a plastic sheet was pushed up against the tables of tools. Under it was a large drainage grate where Sarah assumed all the blood of the victim would seep out of the room.

The man shut the door as he left them and locked it from the outside. They looked at each other and expelled air at the same time.

“Holy shit,” Diner said.

“I second that.” Sarah wandered over to a table by the door. Three small pantry-like units sat against the wall on top of the table. She opened the first one with her teeth as her hands were still cuffed.

“Ouch,” she said. “Look at this.”

Adult toys in their original containers were piled one on top of the other. They all appeared to be butt plugs mixed in with an assortment of anal toys. She gestured at the largest one that had a base as wide as a small Frisbee.

“Who could ever use that?”

Diner came over to stand beside her and opened the second door. Nipple clamps spilled out. More adult toys were stuffed inside. Everything from vibrating nipple clamps, rings for the base of the penis, to ball stretchers and vaginal pumps.