Desmoterion, page 5
He could hear a snort come from Girish in response before he moved on to another group of people.
Trent turned to the right. “Any positive IDs of our target people at the party yet?”
A teen with a buzz cut glanced up from his monitor. “Not yet, though most are famous for being damn rich. Some kind of socialite party or something.”
“Very likely, the rich tend to have peculiar tastes, from what I hear. I wouldn’t know since I grew up poor.”
Trent turned when he heard his name called. “What is it, Kipper?”
Kipper pointed to the display. “Talk to Colin, as he’s not handling it well. I suspect he’s figured out why all the servers are young men.”
Trent tapped another button and talked into his headset, “Colin, do your job and stop listening to what they’re saying. None of that will apply if you don’t blow your cover.”
Colin responded under clenched teeth while facing a wall, “This is bullshit.”
“We know, and that’s the whole point of us trying to figure out where their base is. If we find that, we can rescue those forced into things like this. It’s all part of a greater plan that doesn’t include making you feel like garbage. Give us a little credit.”
Colin moved away from the wall to head back into the kitchen.
Trent assumed if anyone needed help, it would have been the newer recruit. He just hoped Colin didn’t jeopardize everything they were trying to do.
* * *
Weaving through the room, offering delectable fish appetizers to the guests, Girish was patient, waiting for hesitant hands to reach out before continuing on his path.
Consciously, he avoided meeting their gazes, opting to fixate on their chests or hands, as if deciphering some hidden code. Though no one had advised him to do so, the subtle expressions of disdain from a disapproving woman when he dared to meet her eyes served as a telling hint.
He just wished he didn’t have to hear their rude comments. Some were mocking his long hair, saying he looked like a girl instead of a man. Others commented on his ass, saying they would love to squeeze it.
Thankfully, no one had crossed the line from offensive words to physical actions, for which Girish felt immense relief. How he might respond if someone dared to act on their lewd intentions remained an uncertainty. He was convinced Trent would rip him a new one if he decked someone for attempting to grab his ass.
Girish had been lost in his thoughts when a sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere caught his attention. People around him turned, their collective focus drawn to something behind him. Instinct urged him to keep circulating the room, oblivious to the disturbance, but his curiosity overruled his instincts.
Turning slowly, he observed a striking scene. A silver-haired man stood at the doorway, flanked by two enigmatic figures in black. As he inadvertently locked eyes with the enigmatic newcomer, a chilling realization dawned upon him: he’d fucked up.
* * *
Trent swore under his breath, seeing Girish turn to face the one man in the whole room he shouldn’t. He tapped on a button to call into their leader’s office, “We have confirmation of a Misha Petrov sighting.”
Their leader’s voice came over Trent’s headset, “Good, I’ll be right down to observe the proceedings.”
Trent took his finger off the button and grimaced. Just what he needed, their leader observing every move of the operation.
It wasn’t unwarranted since this man was the big fish they were after. Then again, Petrov was unlikely to give out information with Girish nearby; he’d not gotten as successful as he was by giving away his secrets so easily. They needed one of his men to spill the beans, which was more likely after copious amounts of vodka loosened the tongues.
Sadly, that was several hours away and after a formal dinner.
Would Girish be safe for that long, or would Petrov seek him out just because Girish had done something not the norm for his boys? Punishment was harsh when you didn’t behave, and Trent wondered if Girish would last long enough out of harm’s way.
The leader stood beside Trent, watching the proceedings. “How are the recruits doing?”
Trent glanced down at the screen. Girish had finally started moving around the room with food; all the while, Petrov’s eyes were on him. “So far, so good.”
“Where is the second recruit? I see Kannan but not Colin.”
Trent watched the screen for Colin’s form but did not see it. He turned his head to ask Kipper, “What’s going on with Colin?”
Kipper listened for a bit. “Looks like he’s waiting for more food. I believe they’re about to do the fancy dinner soon from the various languages I’m hearing in the kitchen area. Get Kannan back there as soon as possible.”
Trent tapped the button and talked into Girish’s ear, “One more pass, and then go back to the kitchen. Dinner is about to be served.”
He saw Girish nod and go to the next grouping of people close to the kitchen doorway. They paid him no heed, and he moved away into the kitchen.
* * *
When Girish walked into the kitchen, the old man snatched the serving tray out of Girish’s hands. “It’s about time! Three passes and then back.”
Apologizing profusely, Girish ducked his head.
The old man pulled Girish over to stand next to Colin. “Stay here until dinner is ready.”
Colin’s twisted expression of barely concealed anger was alarming. “Calm down, you’ll blow our cover.”
“I hope every one of those vile people chokes on their food,” Colin whispered back through clenched teeth.
“So they were making comments at you?”
Colin nodded. “About bending me over and raping me. Or wanting the two of us to fuck in front of the whole gathering.”
“Seriously? All I got was people commenting on my ass and wanting to touch it.”
“Yeah, well, those old bats on the far wall were the ones saying it. Perhaps you’ll get to hear them later. It took everything inside not to smash their faces with the serving tray.”
“It’s just talk.” At least, that’s what Girish hoped.
The old man rolled his eyes at their conversation, grabbing both by the arms. “No talking. Dinner is ready for serving. Follow the others.”
Girish tried to line up behind Colin, but a few other men got in before he could. He figured Colin would be fine without him near.
They just had to get through the night, and this nightmare would end.
* * *
Trent switched to the dining room camera. He looked at the older people around the table wearing fancy gowns and suits and rolled his eyes at the show of wealth.
The leader noticed it and raised an eyebrow. “You do not approve of fancy dress parties?”
“Not really. I grew up poor, so all of this is just a waste of money and energy. It’s probably why I spent so much of my youth in my bedroom listening to music. It was free and relaxing. All this would drive me crazy.”
The leader smiled and added, “But that’s not all you did in your room back then.”
He had to be very careful with his response because something flippant wouldn’t go over well, and Trent’s jaw clenched at the insinuation that there was a part of his life he chose to ignore. Yet, the leader had access to all of it from old records.
Luckily, he didn’t have to respond as shouting on the radio interrupted his train of thought.
In horror, Trent stared at the image of Colin causing a scene in the middle of dinner. He ranted and raved about being mistreated by a bunch of greedy, perverse assholes.
Trent noticed Girish trying to move to him and responded in Girish’s ear with a button press, “Girish, stay where you are. If he wants to hang himself, then let him. He knows what happens to those who mess up on missions. Don’t incriminate yourself.”
Girish ignored Trent, handed his tray to another server, and weaved around the others who were frozen in place, separating him from Colin. He shook his head and asked Colin, “What are you doing? They take care of us, and you do this to them?”
Colin kept ranting despite it.
Trent was about to call down to Girish again when their leader intercepted his hand. He turned, annoyed that he was being impeded during a mission. “What is it?”
“Let Kannan handle it. I believe I know what he’s doing.”
Trent removed his hand from the button and watched Girish repeat his words calmly to Colin.
“Please, continue with your job. We don’t want to anger them further.”
Colin shook his head, dropping his tray to the ground with a loud crash. “No! Fuck these greedy assholes. Fuck them in the ass like they apparently want to do to us. I’ve heard filthy words from old hags that could be my grandmother.”
Several older women gasped at the notion of such a thing.
The silver-haired man at the head of the table got out of his chair and strolled over to Colin. He struck out, and Colin dropped to the ground into a heap. He nodded to some men in black who stayed in the shadows, and they stepped forward to collect the body. Before Girish could get back to his position, the man reached out for Girish’s wrist. “Thank you for your kind words. I shall repay them in kind later tonight. In fact, I might have to keep you for myself.”
Girish backed away from the man once he was free, hurrying back to his place in line and grabbing the serving tray.
Trent swore under his breath. That’s the last thing they needed.
* * *
As Girish gracefully presented dishes to the seated guests, a disconcerting awareness settled upon him—a creeping sense of unease triggered by the silver-haired man’s unsettling scrutiny. The way the man grinned made Girish’s skin crawl.
His attempt to defuse the situation had backfired, drawing unwelcome attention to himself—the very scenario he’d always strived to avoid. In the blink of an eye, he’d become the center of the man’s unabated interest.
He didn’t want to imagine what the sick fuck might have in mind, though Girish was sure it wouldn’t be nearly as consensual or as much fun as the man implied. Enduring the man’s lecherous gaze was enough to induce nausea.
The man’s hand ventured where it wasn’t welcome, his fingers audaciously tracing the contours of Girish’s rear, slow and invasive. Suppressing a surge of anger and disgust took every ounce of Girish’s self-control.
He strained to ignore the man’s intrusive advances, aware that the surrounding guests, with their earlier crude and vulgar comments, were unlikely to object. A subtle nudge from the next server granted Girish a respite. Gratefully, he sidestepped the man, relieved at the interruption.
From the corner of his eye, he observed the following server receiving the same unwelcome attention but seemingly taking pleasure in the man’s advances. The sight filled Girish with a mix of repulsion and sadness.
Swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat, Girish redirected his focus to the next plate, determined to maintain his composure.
* * *
Far away, Trent’s eyebrows raised. “Well, you have grown Girish. I’d have killed that man if he’d tried that on me.”
“That’s why they’re recruits, and you aren’t any more. You have to learn how to act in a tough situation and rise above it.”
Internally, Trent rolled his eyes, remembering his first mission when he ended up killing a man. Thankfully, the man was slated to die after blabbing the delicate information Trent was supposed to extract, or he’d have been punished for that act.
Instead, they promoted him out of the new recruit pool and into the leadership role. It was a much lower rank than he was now, but it was better than dealing with garbage like that again.
The fact that he could single-handedly kill a man in cold blood helped him rise through Desmoterion, an underground organization which valued that skill set. This business was not for the emotional, just a cold, calculated man who could keep pushing despite it.
It was something Trent thought he saw in Girish, a man who’d be able to do his job without interference from Trent at every step of the way.
Trent remembered Colin still had a wire and turned to Kipper. “Is Colin’s wire still active?”
The buzz-cut kid nodded. “Yep, though it’s not giving us much at the moment. It’s just a lot of shuffling and moving around. Since I don’t know where they took him, I can’t find what camera to hack.”
Kipper moved over to stand by the kid. “Cycle through all of them to find where he might be. We don’t have much to go on at the moment with Kannan as he’s busy dodging wandering hands.”
“Rather him than me.” The kid shivered. “I’ll try hunting around.” He turned to another teenager sitting beside him. “Let me know if you hear any voices on the channel.”
“Will do.”
Kipper nodded. “Let’s hope it’s where we want him to be, like the location of their cargo.”
Trent frowned at Kipper. “You think they’d be that stupid?”
Kipper shrugged, going back over to his post. “Who knows with this bunch? They haven’t suspected he’s wired.”
* * *
Girish slouched against the kitchen wall, seeking refuge in the relative safety of its shadows. He drew in a deep, unsteady breath, attempting to quell the trembling of his nerves. The seemingly simple task of serving guests had proven far more daunting than he’d ever imagined, especially given the unsettling advances of the silver-haired man who seemed to touch him every time he passed by.
Fighting to push his emotions aside, Girish sought solace in a childhood coping mechanism. He reminded himself that this ordeal was temporary, and perhaps, amid dinner or afterward, one of their targets might inadvertently reveal something crucial. He was confined to this role until that moment arrived.
Yet, a nagging question loomed: how much more of the man’s unwelcome advances would he have to endure, and to what extent would they escalate?
Girish inhaled deeply, barely whispering, “Trent? Can you hear me?”
The line remained silent.
Desperation crept into Girish’s voice. “Please, Trent, just signal when I can escape. I... I can’t bear this much longer.”
In that desperate moment, the older man clutched Girish’s arm with a possessive grip. “Dinner isn’t over! Stop wasting time.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Girish forced himself to collect another brimming platter of food. He had to trust that Trent had heard his silent pleas and would intervene when the need arose.
* * *
Trent sighed at the desperation in Girish’s voice, but he was on radio silence for now.
The leader studied Trent’s frown. “Is that emotion I see, Trent? Usually, you don’t show concern about what happens to recruits, yet you seem to care for Kannan.”
Trent pushed his emotions to the side before answering. “I don’t enjoy hearing pleas from the recruits; I never have. And I’ve heard them being raped, tortured, and murdered before today. I never want any of them to go that way.”
“Maybe so, but it is a part of our job. If we must sacrifice a few recruits to finish the mission, so be it. It’s just a shame that Henny’s sacrifice last time didn’t lead us to what we wanted.”
A kid spoke to the buzz-cut hacker. “I hear voices now. Colin is still out cold judging by his vitals, but maybe these voices are in other areas around him.”
“Try to ID the voices. I’m trying to find Colin’s location. I’ve got a hunch they’re using a signal jammer because all I get is garbage when I try to locate it.”
Kipper shuffled over to them to study the buzz-cut kid’s console. “Ward, try to filter out the noise and start isolating channels, even if you have to do it one at a time. We need to find where he is because it might be what we’re after.”
Kipper touched the back of the black-haired kid’s chair. “Delgado, any matches so far?”
“No, it’s still processing. I believe at least three different people are talking amongst themselves near him.”
Kipper tapped a few buttons on the console to listen in. He straightened up, his eyes going wide.
Delgado looked down at the results with a frown. “One of the people used to be from here.”
Kipper turned and said, “Trent, you need to hear this.”
“I’m busy listening to Girish’s feed. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No Trent, it can’t. I believe it’s Henny.”
Trent froze.
Their leader looked down at Delgado’s console to see the results. “Looks like Kipper is correct. The voice is a perfect match.”
Trent’s jaw clenched at the idea of Henny still being alive and working for the other side after all the dreams that taunted Trent. “What’s he saying?”
Kipper listened for a bit. “Nothing so far other than commenting on Colin’s arrival to someone else, saying that Colin probably came from one of their parties.”
“Keep listening. Maybe he’ll say something significant.”
* * *
Colin groaned and sat upright. He glanced around the metal cell in confusion. He rubbed his head and tried to think back to the last thing he remembered.
There was the party, shuffling around the room with food and listening to them laughing at obscenities. He’d acted out during dinner and landed here on the floor in a room no bigger than a prison cell without a bed. He stumbled to his feet and peered out of the thick metal bars.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Colin scratched his head and realized the voice came from the cell across the way. The walkway between them wasn’t more than a few feet across.
“Who are you?”
The voice laughed. “Man, you must be a newbie. I haven’t seen you before this. Where the hell did they drag you out from, wearing a monkey suit like that?”
Colin hesitated, wondering if others were listening in to their conversation. He didn’t want his careless words to kill Girish.
“Uh, an alley. They dressed me up and handed me a plate of food to serve. After a while, I got tired of their leering eyes and spoke out. I guess this is punishment for that.”
