Page 39 of Sweet Torture (Torture Games #1)
THIRTY-ONE
CHAOS
E verything is set.
Claire has confirmation from her superiors of the sting operation, although it has been kept quiet because she insisted that they had a mole within the department. According to her, we would be surrounded, and backup is on standby.
I have planned this down to the last detail.
This will be the only opportunity we will have to bring this scumbag Russian down. Usually, one of his lieutenants handles the deliveries, but according to the subtle threats he has left on my phone, he will attend this meeting in person.
I am not intimidated one bit, but I have never had anyone to protect before, either. The weight of Naz’s safety lies heavy on my heart .
After our little game the other day, I gravitated to her side in every situation.
We have abandoned the dining table, opting to eat our dinner on the couch where we can snuggle closer when finished.
We have fallen asleep more than once with my arms wrapped around her. Since she has temporarily moved in here, my soul has been less restless.
I have noticed her whimpering in her sleep sometimes, but when I pull her closer to me and wrap my arm around her, the whimpering stops.
I haven’t questioned her about it since we have other pending matters, but I will get to it someday once this has all died down.
I put my hands in my pockets as soon as I got out of the car.
The wind is brisk, and Carter’s scarf might have come in handy today.
Pathetic idiot he is; he hasn’t contacted me again since that night.
Rumors amongst the high society are that he had to attend to important business out of town.
I bet it is a convenient excuse to use while the bruises around his neck are healing, not to mention the broken hand.
In the distance, I see another black SUV pull up. I have all my usual men in the desired position, with two snipers on the roof. I am sure Damian is watching closely. They have been camping at this location for two days, as I never leave anything to chance.
Bastian is at home keeping Naz safe. Claire has given me a recording device embedded in one of my shirt buttons. The range is short, and this plan relies heavily on the presence of police in the vicinity.
I walk to meet Vlad halfway. He stops before he reaches the halfway point, forcing me to walk further. Just another way to cement the notion that he is in control here. But what he doesn’t know is that I can play along as long as I know I hold the winning cards.
I toyed with the idea of taking him out during the raid, but I didn’t want to get Claire in trouble since she had done so much for us already.
She arranged for a security detail for Naz.
Not that I needed it, but I would rather take the assistance offered than have something happen because I was too prideful.
And there is no shame in having double the protection, is there?
“It's so nice to see you here, Maxwell. I had a bet with Igor that you wouldn’t show. Well, that is 10k well spent.”
“Do you always expect the people you do business with to double-cross you? You know what they say, Vlad.”
“No, what is that?”
“If you have a problem with people trusting you, you might be the crazy bastard to blame. The common denominator is you. ”
He laughs heartily and slaps me on the back. “I knew I would grow to like you, Maxwell.”
To step away would be to show weakness, but I want to make it clear to anyone listening that I am not a friend to this excuse of a human being. Instead, I say loudly, “The feeling is not mutual. Unfortunately, you have overplayed your hand when you expected my woman to strip before all your men.”
“You know, Maxwell,” he wags a finger in my direction, “you really shouldn’t hold grudges. You never know when you might need my help with something. I can be a great friend to have in your pocket.”
“Somehow, I doubt that would ever be necessary. Can we get down to business now? I would like to get out of this wind.”
I walk in the direction of his shipment while he praises the sudden coldness that has descended on this day. “In Russia, we are used to cold days like these. It used to distinguish the men from the boys.”
I stop listening as I close in on one of the containers.
From inside, a faint sound of weeping can be heard.
I indicate to my two guards to open the door.
The loud sound of metal scraping against metal clangs on the walls of the other containers.
A pregnant silence floats from within when the doors are opened.
My eyes roam over the battered condition of the women. Most look starved and neglected. The arduous journey across the sea has left various bruises and marks on them. Some are huddled together, clearly protecting the weaker amongst them.
An ungodly smell wafts into my nostrils, and I grimace. Death always has a signature scent. It never waivers from turning your stomach.
I glance over to Vlad to see him regard the women as one might look at a prized stud. His beady eyes gleam with excitement, and I recoil at the thought of what I am subjecting these women to.
In theory, I am supposed to leave them in this container and move the container around to avoid detection. That is, until Vlad’s men can completely remove them, a few at a time.
Vlad enters the container, women cowering further at the back while the space around him continues to grow. “I love the smell of success so early in the morning. Well done, Maxwell. I will take this shipment off your hands unless you have other interested buyers.”
What the fuck is he talking about? “Excuse me?”
The volume of his voice rises. " You heard me. I will take them off your hands unless you have someone else lined up as a buyer. You can tell me the name. At least then I know who I am up against next time an opportunity like this comes along.”
He is making no sense, unless… “What are you doing, Vlad? You know I am not in the business of selling. I am solely a courier.”
“Of course you are. That was until you decided that this was more lucrative. No judgment here. I know how tough it can be to care for your loved ones. I don’t blame you for wanting to make a few extra million. What account do I use for the transfer? You will be sipping margaritas in no time.”
That was a code phrase if I ever heard one. A ridiculous one, but still.
Claire wanted to use ‘I have a dinner date.’
Completely unimaginative if you ask me. Still, I stand frozen as men in black and full artillery gear storm us, screaming directives and yanking my arms behind my back before clasping a set of cuffs on me.
I try to identify Claire among those dressed in black, but they have masks on, and everything turns into a blur. Hauled away from the damning evidence, I am escorted to the waiting car. I just hope my men did as instructed and got away before this turned south.
“Where is Officer Black?” The man holding my arms starts pushing me into the car, guiding my head, but I stagger back. “I need answers right now. Where is Officer Black?”
The look on his face is pure repulsion. “That little bitch got exactly what she deserved. Get in.” He tucks my head in and drops me on the back seat.
I guess I will have to wait until we get to the station to find out what happened.