Page 6 of Polestar (The Global Paranormal Security Agency #3)
SIX
M agnus never left Ana’s side during the hours of interviews. He didn’t think he could, even if he’d been ordered to.
No matter how pale she became or how much her hands trembled, she repeated the process again and again, recording each conversation.
There were no other eerie one-sided interviews like the first.
He’d been present when the tribal shamans conversed with the spirits.
This was different in as much that it lacked the ornate ceremony which normally accompanied the practice.
And yet, in her way, there had been similar points of respect. Permission, an offering, and an expression of gratitude.
Still, Magnus would admit to himself, if never anyone else, the experience had unsettled him. He preferred physical communication. Tangible. Anchored in this reality.
As he observed Agent Ortega throughout the day, the care and consideration which she approached every individual she spoke to never wavered.
In between sessions, she uploaded every recording to the cloud where any of the team members could access them. He knew Kane and Maeda would have them transcribed and reviewed within a few days. Neither cared to waste time or effort.
It wasn’t until late evening, when the team packed up for the day, that a young woman approached agent Ortega.
“Sascha,” Agent Ortega said.
The young woman nodded, hands wringing, gaze on the industrial carpet beneath their feet.
“How are you feeling?” Ortega asked, her voice soft.
“I—we… We spoke earlier?” Sascha asked, lifting her tear-swollen eyes to Ortega.
“We did.”
This was the young woman Magnus couldn’t see. What was it Ortega had said… bi-located? Not dead. Just… separated somehow. His heart twisted a little as he continued his role as observer.
“I don’t understand. I thought it was a dream, but then, I’ve watched you talk to the others all day. And I don’t think it was?”
“No, not a dream, but similar,” Ana said, not elaborating.
Sascha seemed to accept this with a slight nod. “I’ve been thinking. Remembering. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”
“It will take time, but you’re safe now, Sascha.”
Sascha blew out a breath, looking around the large room, and finally nodded.
“I know it here,” she pointed to her head. “But here,” she laid her hand over her sternum, “not so much.”
Ortega gave her time to form what she wanted to say next. Magnus knew there was more. He could feel it himself, and he wasn’t a psychic.
“Your recorder. Turn it on.”
Ortega extracted it from her pocket and did as instructed.
“The man shouting at you, that you couldn’t hear… had dark hair, as I said before, and a uniform of sorts—like the other men in the transfer station but blackened with dirt or smoke. He had a name tag that caught the light.”
Magnus moved closer on hearing this.
Ortega didn’t move, waiting.
“Ruiz. I think it read.”
Ortega’s whole body jerked, then went so still, Magnus doubted she drew a breath.
“Are you sure?” she finally asked, voice almost inaudible.
“Yes,” Sascha nodded. “This I’m sure about.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Just that he kept screaming ‘ save them, Ana, save them’ . It was very frightening.”
Ortega remained quiet for a long moment.
“The men in the transfer station… did they have tags too?”
Sascha shook her head, swallowed hard, and dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I had a friend… they took us at the same time. I don’t know what happened to her.” She lifted her gaze to Ana. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Of course, Sascha. When we find her, we will do what we can to reunite you. Thank you for talking to me. Earlier and now. And in the coming days, if you wish.”
Sascha reached out to touch Ana’s hand, as though testing her solidity. Ana squeezed her hand in return. “Eat some food and get rest. You did wonderfully today.”
Sascha sniffled as Ortega released her hand, then threw her arms around Ana as she sobbed.
Ortega embraced the young woman and let her cry as long as she needed. Magnus stood at Ortega’s back, observing it all, chest tight.
Everything they heard, every piece of data they collected today, would be added to all the rest of the data they’d collected over the years since they started investigating these traffickers.
We’re so close. So, damned, close.
Gods, I want to shut these fuckers down and make them pay for what they’ve done to so many innocent people.
So many victims stolen. Families fractured, communities mourning.
And for what?
So someone can make money.
He swallowed his revulsion and calmed the rush of emotion before approaching Ortega and the survivor, Sascha.
Sascha let go of Ortega and moved away without another word.
He glanced up at movement across the room. Connor and Burns waited by the door.
“Time to go,” he whispered by Ortega’s shoulder.
She turned to look up at him, eyes haunted, as she acknowledged his words with a nod.
In that instance, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and give her the comfort she’d given so many others this day.
Instead, he followed her out of the room to join the others who’d moved out into the hall. They both studied Ortega with grim expressions. Burns rubbed Ortega’s shoulder, but said nothing.
They walked back to the car and Magnus drove them back to Kane’s estate.
Each team member was silent as they reflected on their day’s work, mentally preparing for the next.
“Y ou’re telling me we lost another fucking ship?” Adolf Wulker’s heart pounded as he stared at his subordinate.
“Yes, sir, but we used our connections to put up some jurisdictional roadblocks. They shouldn’t be able to trace the ship’s point of origin.”
“But another ship, with all of its cargo, is lost. That shipment had a very particular order for a very important client.” Wulker’s fist slammed the top of his solid oak desk, making loose objects jump and rattle.
“How did we lose it in the first place?” He held up a hand, stopping the other man from speaking. “No. Never mind, I don’t care. This careless loss of merchandise is going to stop. Now. See to it.”
The assistant dry-swallowed and croaked. “Yes, sir.”
Wulker waved him away.
“An unfortunate by-product of any trade business. A reasonable insurance write-off.” The forgotten blonde woman in the corner of the room said, as she rose to her feet.
Recalling her presence, Wulker scowled at her. “This one was lost in your territory.”
She breezed toward him. “My brother was aboard that ship, but I trust he’ll have evacuated with the crew, yes?”
He couldn’t help himself. Despite his annoyance, desire surged through him as his gaze swept her pouty lips, full breasts, narrow waist, and generous hips.
Adolf nodded.
“I’ll talk to my people,” she murmured, pressing her soft breasts to his chest.
Unable to resist, his hand drifted down her waist to her ass and groped as she leaned in to kiss him.
As his arousal grew, his hand shifted, splitting into two distinct tentacles extending from his cuff, drifting lower down her hip.
One encircled her thigh, the other drifted up under the hem of her short skirt, teasing.
She moaned.
He grinned, enjoying the power he had over her.
He stepped back, releasing her. His limbs merged, returning to human form. “Set up a meeting. We need to discuss a change in procedure.”
She frowned at the extra space he put between them. “Of course.”
“Impress the importance that this meeting be face to face.”
“My former father-in-law won’t be eager for that, no matter that we’ve… persuaded him otherwise.”
“I’m well aware of how difficult he is to control, despite the formidable power of my venom’s persuasion.
I’m also aware he doesn’t welcome outsiders to clan territory, nor does he like to leave his people for any length of time.
As you’ve reminded me. But if he wishes to continue to provide them with security and prosperity, then he will meet with me. ”
“Where and when shall I propose this meeting take place?”
“I’ll keep it simple. The stronghold. As soon as possible.”
She arched her brow, nodded, and left the room.
“An unfortunate by-product indeed,” he murmured as he approached the vast window of his office overlooking the skyline of Barentia across the narrow channel.
Maybe once the meeting details were set, he would accept her less-than-subtle offer of intimate play time.
For now, there was work to do.
Work first, play later.
However, Adolf did allow himself to indulge in just a few moments of fantasizing about their future bedroom escapades. He did prefer to plan everything , after all.