Desmoterion, page 7
Their leader looked between the two men and shook his head. He moved over to stand behind Delgado’s chair. “Any news on our operatives getting to the dock?”
“Yes, I have a visual on them.” Delgado stopped to pull up a video feed. “They’re slowly approaching one side of the building. I haven’t heard any news about what they’re seeing yet.”
As if on cue, a voice came out of the secondary radio. “Jansen calling in. We have a heavily fortified building complete with armed guards around every side. This might be what we’re looking for.”
The leader reached down to tap a button. “Proceed to the next step. I want to know for sure that it’s the correct building. For all we know, it might be a drug ring headquarters.”
“Got it, proceed on.”
The leader turned to Trent. “If we can confirm that it’s indeed what we’re after, then maybe we can do the next step.”
Trent nodded, knowing that the next step was extracting Girish. At least, he hoped it was.
* * *
Girish sidestepped the lunge, kneeing the silver-haired man in the stomach, channeling everything he’d learned, seen and been told in the few days of boot camp. Attacking in anger will get you nowhere. Think. Use your brain, speed, and body.
The man punched upward, knocking Girish to the ground. “You little shit. You can’t win.”
Girish grunted and pushed himself off the ground. He spat out blood on the floor. “We’ll see.”
The man came at Girish again, this time going for Girish’s side. Girish thought he had enough time to dodge it, knowing where the man was going, but he didn’t. He ended up on the ground faster than he hoped, landing hard on his side and knocking the wind out of his lungs.
A black wingtip shoe came at his side, jamming between Girish’s ribs and making breathing even harder. “You’re weak on your left side. For as much bluster as you’ve expounded, you’re still weaker than I am. If you lived longer, you’d learn to respect those who have power over you.”
Girish waited until the man leaned down in his face to lash out, grabbing for the man’s loose cuffs and hauling him down to the ground beside him. Fingers reached for the man’s face, smashing them in his eyes. “Fuck you!”
Even though he couldn’t see them, the man managed to reach out to grab a hold of Girish’s throat and squeeze.
Girish struggled to knock the man off, but the lack of air from before made him lightheaded and weak.
Spots formed in front of Girish’s eyes.
* * *
The choking in his ear worried Trent, knowing the Girish wouldn’t survive much longer. He turned to Delgado. “Report. What’s going on? Are they in?”
Delgado nodded while still watching the video feed. “Yes, they just went in. I hear gunfire and shouting. They’re encountering resistance.”
Biting his bottom lip, Trent weighed up the chances of Girish getting out alive. Casualties were part of the job, but he needed Girish for other things, and dying ruined those plans. Finally, he made a decision that would anger their leader.
“Emyr, send Arden in to retrieve Girish. Tell him to move swiftly and kill anyone who stands in his way.”
Their leader glanced over at Trent. “I didn’t give those orders.”
Trent ignored him. “Leave Petrov alive. We need him.”
Their leader grabbed Trent by the arm. “I never gave those orders!”
Trent turned to look their leader in the eyes. “I did. I am Arden’s supervisor, and those are my orders for him to follow. There is no point in allowing Petrov to kill Kannan and get away. Apprehending him now would save us precious time later.”
“You’re putting a lot of trust in Arden’s abilities. How do we know Henny wasn’t feeding Colin the wrong information? He might have gone rogue in exchange for survival. Did you think of that?”
He had thought of that. It was his first thought when he heard Henny’s voice. He would have welcomed death if he was presented with it. He was tired of Desmotian, and he knew he had no life outside of it. “There’s no way he’d switch sides.”
Their leader was about to argue further when the voice of Jansen sounded on the console, “We have it. The cargo is here.”
Trent and the leader looked up at the clock as it struck midnight. Their leader tapped the console to speak to Jansen, “Stay there and wait for further orders. Our time is up, but I don’t want it to fall into others’ hands. Make sure it doesn’t.”
“Aye, sir.”
Their leader glanced over at Trent. “Turns out you were right. Retrieve Kannan and bring him back here.”
* * *
Girish woke up with a start, wondering what had happened. He tried to move his arms, but thick ropes held them down to the bed. With a yank, he realized he was spread eagle on his stomach and naked.
The man laughed behind him. “You can’t get out of it, I made sure of that. Now it’s time to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
Girish flinched, knowing what was coming, and there was nothing he could do. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his body; while he lived, there was hope.
He still had the wire, feeling the earpiece inside his ear and on the outside of the other, but heard nothing. Did he dare to hope for a rescue?
So far, radio silence suggested Trent didn’t give a shit, and was probably getting off on hearing Girish getting his comeuppance once and for all.
And the organization had abandoned him. He was disposable. He’d served his purpose. And his best hope of staying alive was to be an obedient sex slave, taken in, fed, and kept by the other side.
Pure white rage roared inside Girish’s chest, but with no way to vent it. He yanked at the bonds on his wrists, twisting them around to break free. He’d had this done to him once in prison and freed one of his hands enough to fight. This was one man, and he’d been able to hold his own until the end. He might have a chance to get even at some point.
The man scoffed at his efforts. “You won’t get free; I made sure of that. You’ll feel every second of this. I won’t tolerate those who don’t behave.”
“Just kill me so I don’t have to listen to you gloat like a fucking movie villain.”
The man dropped his suit pants to the ground, approaching the bed wearing a sneer on his face. “I’ll show you action you’ll never forget as long as you live.”
With gritted teeth, Girish fell silent when the man smacked Girish’s ass with his cock. Anything to deter the sadist from raping him was good, but he was running out of ideas and options.
* * *
Arden fired his handgun at two men as he headed upstairs. Emyr told him it was one of four rooms on the top floor and that he’d have to check each one because of scanner jamming. He’d rather not have to waste time, so instead, he tried to hear anything out of the ordinary.
Girish might scream or call out or bang on something if they gagged him.
Arden approached the first door, putting his ear to it, and listened to no sound inside.
He shrugged, going to the next door and doing the same thing to hear more silence.
Arden was about to try the third door when he heard screams from the fourth. He raced down the hallway as silently as possible, shuffling up to the door and pressing his ear to it.
Girish’s voice sounded calling out swear words to whoever he was with.
Arden aimed for the lock, intent on blowing it apart.
* * *
Just when the man was about to thrust into him, the door blew inward with a sound like an explosion.
Girish twisted his head to work out what was going on. The assailant tried to go for his gun but wasn’t fast enough. A skinny guy rushed into the room and charged at him.
There was a scuffle, but the element of surprise had been too much for the naked would-be rapist, who was knocked out cold.
“Are you okay?”
Girish sighed, recognizing the tall man with bushy hair. “I’ve been better, Arden. Thank fuck you weren’t a minute later.”
“Can you get up?” Arden asked without taking his focus off the guy lying on the floor. He stood pointing his gun at the lifeless body, clearly expecting the silver-haired guy to make a move at any moment.
Girish twisted his wrist a bit, grimacing at the pain running down his arm, and pulled it out. He untied the other wrist and looked back. “I don’t think I can get my legs.”
Arden kicked the man on the floor hard in the stomach, which made him curl up in pain. But it didn’t seem like the guy had been unconscious after all, just laying still and faking it. Arden poked the man with his gun. “Go untie him,” he barked.
The silver-haired man shook his head. “No.”
Arden cocked the gun. “Now!”
The man grinned at Arden. “No.”
Girish winced again, shoving himself up to put his ass in the air long enough to reach the bonds on his legs. “Please tell me we’re going to torture the fuck out of this asshole.”
Trent finally spoke in Girish’s ear, “Quit talking and get the fuck out of there.”
“Fuck you, Dupont.”
“No, thank you, you’re not my type.”
After finishing his second leg, Girish grabbed a clean sheet and rubbed it across his face, crotch, and ass before picking his clothes off the floor to get dressed.
The man made a sudden lunge, probably to get the gun but Arden was fast on his feet and out of the way in a heartbeat. Just enough time for Girish to dig his knife out of his pants and ram it between the sadist’s shoulder blades.
The man cried out, dropping back down to his knees with blood pouring forth.
Girish stood over the man and kicked him hard in the face. “That’s for tonight. I hope you rot in hell.”
Arden winced and got a hand on Girish before he could finish the man off. “We’re going to need a medic. Girish stabbed Petrov.”
* * *
Arden led Girish to the transporter, handing off Petrov to the medic team. Girish slumped on the seat, smarting from the pain where he’d taken a beating. Adrenalin had kept him going and the pain at bay, but now it hit him full force.
Emyr radioed to Trent. “We’ve got Girish. Coming back. Though Petrov is injured and losing a lot of blood.”
Trent groaned over the radio. “Where?”
“Where what?” Emyr frowned.
“Where did Girish stab him?”
Girish glanced up. “Should have stabbed him in his dick if I’d have known you were gonna save the fucker.”
“Petrov wasn’t to be harmed!”
Girish leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, well, you weren’t about to be raped by the asshole. Nor were you felt up by him all night. I don’t give a fuck what you think, Dupont. For all I know, you enjoyed watching it.”
Emyr rolled his eyes at Girish. “He couldn’t see anything beyond dinner, you idiot. The signal was jammed. All we had was the radio from your earpiece.”
“Then he enjoyed listening to it,” Girish let his eyes close. “I wouldn’t put it past Trent to get off on others being messed up.”
“If that was the case, I would have left you there to be raped,” Trent spoke in Girish’s ear again, “I know it’s news, but it’s not all about you, Kannan.”
Girish’s face twisted in anger. He would not calm down any time soon.
* * *
Trent stood by the same doorway where he saw Girish off from hours before. He didn’t need to be there as it wasn’t that urgent to debrief Girish on the mission, but he had a feeling Girish would still be riled up.
Mike was beside him, though not for the same reason as Trent. He was there for Emyr as always. He was waiting to help Emyr with his gear and anything else that needed to be done. They didn’t act lovey toward each other. Their relationship was just something Trent figured out from little signs like the looks they shared and how after missions, they were always there for each other and lingered a little longer than typical co-workers or friends.
He had no solid proof of anything, so he kept his mouth shut concerning them. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to be eliminated for carrying on with each other. Relationships between people were tricky; even friendships were risky because you never knew what might happen if the leader or anyone senior didn’t approve or who’d be eliminated next. It was a lonely existence, and no one got too close.
Of course, humans had needs, and people tried to get together occasionally, but you had to be careful who you told or where you did the deed. Cameras were everywhere, as Trent knew, and anyone with a little knowledge of how their systems worked could patch into them.
Mike nudged Trent. “You’re thinking too much, Dupont.”
“I’m always thinking, as you know full well. That’s all that keeps me sane.”
“And yet you broke protocol to get Girish out. You sure about that?”
Trent stared down the empty hallway. “I need Girish to stay alive.”
“To make missions more interesting?”
“No, you know why. I’m sure Emyr has told you by now.” Trent turned to look into Mike’s eyes. “The rest of the recruits are useless yes men. I want someone who will fight for every little thing because that means he’s got a chance at a future instead of resigned to this life.”
Mike’s body stiffened. “Already?”
“No, Girish has way more training to endure before that happens. Not to mention, other things have to come into play first. It all depends on how Girish handles the next missions. If he fails any of them, it might be sooner.”
Mike let out a trapped breath. “I see. Then I guess I have some work to do with him. He’s learning, but it’s slow going.”
“Whatever it takes, even if you have to beat the shit out of him. He has to be ready when the time comes.”
Mike’s eyebrow rose. “Why him?”
“I can’t tell you that yet. But I suspect he and I are alike in a few ways. If that’s the case, I’ll know my choice is correct.”
Mike turned when he heard the doors opening. “For your part, I hope you’re right.”
Trent swallowed hard and hoped that too. It was too late to find another to fill Girish’s place in the plan.
* * *
Emyr walked toward Mike when he appeared in the doorway. He didn’t indicate that he was happy to see Mike, giving him a brief nod and Mike smiled in response.
Girish, on the other hand, flew straight at Trent with waves of anger radiating from him.
Trent waited for Girish to explode. He was about to get a piece of Girish’s mind whether he liked it or not.
Instead, Girish tried to take a swing at Trent. He dodged it with an eye roll, causing Girish to tumble to the ground.
Mike grabbed Girish from behind before he had a chance to act again and growled in his ear, “Looks like someone is itching for more training sessions with his teacher. I will break you of that habit of acting out in anger, even if I have to kill you to do it.”
Girish glared at Trent. “You left me there to rot!”
“Actually, I broke protocol to rescue you. We were waiting to see if we had the correct location of the cargo or not. Our leader would have waited several more minutes to do it. Despite what you think of me, I take no pleasure in knowing people are being abused.” He stopped to look into Girish’s brown eyes. “At least you didn’t back down and take it. You fought back, failing I might add, but at least you held out longer than most of our recruits do.”
Girish spat out, “I would not give that asshole the satisfaction of breaking me.”
“As you shouldn’t. At least you didn’t kill him as I did with mine. My first mission was to seduce a slimy guy into revealing details about an operation. Once I got the details, I stabbed him to death. Our leader wasn’t exactly happy about that, but I figured he was a waste of space. Might as well kill him off when I was done with him.”
Girish stared at Trent and actually appeared shocked.
“Take him to medics to make sure he doesn't get injured.” Trent motioned to Mike. “From what I heard from the audio, he might have some contusions on his ribs and neck. Given that he lunged at me, I doubt his ribs are broken.”
Mike dragged Girish forward. He stopped in front of Trent. “And what would you have done if I’d killed that asshole tonight?”
“It’s not up to me, but I can guess the leader wouldn’t be happy about it. We don’t kill you for one mistake. Though, make it again, and it’s likely to cost you your life.”
“What life? I’m a prisoner here, not living the life I want.”
“Too bad you don’t have a choice in that. You might as well make the most of it.”
“Oh, I will. I can’t wait to beat the shit out of you.” Girish grinned as if he thought he might have a chance of it.
Trent watched Mike drag Girish away and shook his head. “You can try.”
* * *
Trent opened his office door and locked it with the keypad. He headed to his desk and booted up his laptop.
The computer came to life, waiting for his command.
Trent typed out a string of commands to access the recruits’ files. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to look at these, but if detected, it wouldn’t look odd since he was Girish’s supervisor.
He tabbed past the current information about Girish’s prison sentence for blowing up an office building. Somehow, that didn’t seem fitting for Girish to even attempt. He had no knowledge of bombs or bomb-making supplies nor the technical abilities to make the detonator. Trent suspected someone had framed Girish, but he had no proof.
With a tap of his fingers on the keypad, he dug further into Girish’s past. Several blue-collar jobs, hauling things in trucks or doing inventory for grocery stores. They said a lot more about Girish than any dry prison report would.
Then again, they seemed suspicious to Trent as well. They were the jobs that people with a bad past took in order to disappear from sight. No one would look for them in the back, putting packets of meat on a rack.
Someone as smart as Girish should reach manager level, but he never did. He stayed in the background, out of sight and out of mind.
Trent typed to get more information, but a message popped up to say it was restricted. He snorted at the statement, typing a countermeasure to get around it. Whatever it held was important, or it wouldn’t be locked away.
