“Me.” I grin back. “At first just because I was older. But then once Cal was old enough to get good, I had to step up my game—and I guess I’m pretty competitive, because I couldn’t handle losing. He beat me…twice? Maybe three times, and we’d practice every week and have a competition every month, judged by Sasha, usually.”
Duke snorts. “When you said range, I assumed you meant the actual range.”
“We just called the whole compound the range as a euphemism for the whole training facility.”
His frown deepens. “So you can actually, like, room clear and shit?”
“Yes.” I grin. “He would also hide in the rooms and attack us bare-hands, so we’d have to use hand-to-hand combat as well as our firearms.”
“This wasn’t with live firearms, though, I assume,” Duke clarifies.
“If Sasha was in there with us, no, that was all paintball or Airsoft. If it was strict room clearing, it was live weapons and he was in the command booth.”
“You ask this?” Alexei grumbles at Duke. “You know Sasha so long as you know me. He is not dummy.”
Duke waves a hand. “I know, I know. CQC training is what I do, most of the time. The question was force of habit.”
“What kind of idiot would train room clearing with live weapons and live combatants?” Anselm asks. “No one is that stupid, and I know Sasha is not.”
Duke snorts. “You’d think.”
“I believe it was your nineteenth-century author Mark Twain who once said you should never underestimate the power of human stupidity,” Thomas says. “Now. We have spent enough time talking. We must find a contact to be the buyer, and we must prep for the assault.”
Alexei glances at him. “I only paid you for the information, my friend. I do not ask you to participate in the assault.”
Thomas rolls his heavy shoulders, dark skin glistening dully in the dim light. A wicked grin crosses his lips. “I do this for the sake of my conscience, Alexei. The little girl a captive of a pedophile sex trafficker?” He gestures at me. “A billionaire’s daughter placing herself as the inside man on a multifront assault against a numerically superior foe in a fortified position?” He gestures at the rest of the men, including Alexei. “And a chance to work with the most famous mercenary security firm in modern history? I would not miss this for the world, my old friend. Oh no, not for anything.” His teeth are white and straight as he grins broadly at me. “But, I would not refuse a bonus when this is all over.”
I nod at him. “You’ll get it, Thomas. Like my uncle Duke said—you help us with this, and I’ll see that my father buries you in more money than you know what to do with.”
“It will be an honor, in that case.” He extends his hand to me, and I shake it.
Anselm taps the table to get our attention. “I have the contact.” He glances at me. “I will personally vouch for him. I would not trust you with just anyone. But he is someone who can pass for the kind of person we need him to pretend to be. Such is his reputation. It is a reputation he encourages, but it is not the truth of the man he is.”
“The next question is how do we get me on that truck?” I ask. “Let me clarify—how do we get me on that truck without dangling me out there as bait for actual traffickers?”
Everyone is silent.
“That’s the part I like least,” Duke says. “I don’t know that there is a way to mitigate that risk entirely. Which means we cannot be sure that Spaulding’s men won’t take liberties.”
Anselm shakes his head. “Spaulding’s law on this is absolute. The merchandise is for buyers only. Each shipment is overseen by someone Spaulding trusts, and if someone takes too much of a liberty with the girls, that person is shot on sight. He prides himself on delivering unsullied goods, so to speak—fresh meat in good condition, I heard it said. If hisproductarrives battered and used, he will not get top dollar.” His voice is bitter and angry as he speaks of human women as if they are merely objects to be sold—his disgust and rage are clear in his tone and expression. “I do not minimize the risk you take, Corinna. It is not outside the realm of possibility that someone would be willing to risk death, especially for someone so attractive as you are. It is unlikely, however. From all that I have learned—and my sources are very close to the subject, if not first-degree witnesses—the most you will endure on the journey from truck to fortress is some shoving, and perhaps some overly eager wandering hands, but even that is not well tolerated. A grope will mean a reprimand, perhaps a fist for the person guilty of the infraction. It is outright rape and unnecessary violence which would result in visible damage that is not allowed.”
Thomas nods in agreement. “For all that he is a vile pig in need of a painful death, he does run a tight organization. It is simply to protect his own bottom line, however, and not from any kind of altruism. It simply works in our favor, for it means our inside man does not unduly risk herself beyond what is…reasonable.”
I close my eyes. “For Apollo. And Yelena.”
“I will make the call,” Anselm says.
“I have the way onto the truck,” Thomas says. “I wish I did not, but I do.” He winces. “Someone I once considered a friend…he is one of the locals who will sometimes do the driving for Spaulding’s operation. They travel many miles over many hours, and they must rotate drivers who know the area. Myfriendis one such.”
“And you trust this friend?” Alexei asks.
Thomas’s expression is unpleasant. “I possess…leverage over him. He will do as I ask.”
“Go time,” Duke says, his eyes on me, worried.
When everyone has scattered to make their various phone calls and arrangements, it’s just Duke and me for a moment.
“My parents don’t need to know about this until after,” I say, touching his shoulder. “Okay?”
