Page 12 of Under His Heel: A Kidnapping

“Not as such,” Tracht said.

The door slid open, and the receptionist came over with a tray of coffee and small cakes. She knelt very prettily as she served them, no hint of a tremor in her body now.

They waited until she was gone to continue.

“Somebody has absconded with Alex, and, I believe, intends to kill him after a significant amount of torture.”

“So?”

“I would like to request your assistance in retrieving him.”

Nilsen stared for a moment, and then she burst out laughing. “Why in the world would I do that?”

“I believe you are very familiar with how debt contracts work. In the event that Alex dies, provably not through my machinations, I am absolved of paying the remainder of the debt.” He sipped his coffee. “There are still three years remaining on the payments. If Alex dies, it would deny you a substantial sum of money.”

Unfazed, she repeated, “So? I’m not that hard up for cash, and to be honest, I’d pretty much written off the debt. I was shocked when somebody actually picked up Scarface’s contract.”

Nilsen slowly smiled. “I think Scarface must be a lot more valuable to you than money, if you’re coming to me.” She stood and moved from her armchair to sit on the couch next to Tracht. “I think that, if it were just about the money, you might as well have gotten yourself a new bondservant. Isn’t that what you used to do? Pick ‘em up, use ‘em up, dump ‘em, start all over again?”

“You’ve done your homework,” Tracht murmured. He slid away from her, but she closed the distance between them.

“I had to know who was buying up the debt. After all, if you dumped him, I would have had no choice but to simply take him as a bondservant myself.”

She reached out to touch his face, and that was something he absolutely couldn’t abide. He grabbed her wrist and carefully stood up, moving a good few feet away from her.

“I’ve perhaps misrepresented the situation. Alex was not the original target of the kidnapping. That was Johan Lysander, my nephew.”

That, at least, got Nilsen’s interest. “Oh-ho. So, are you here on behalf of Mr. and Ms. Lysander?” Then she shook her head. “No. You would have opened with that.” She tapped her chin theatrically. “But, I suppose I could help you. I don’t need the rest of the debt repaid, but I am not opposed to it either. However. I’d like something in return. A favor.”

Everything in Tracht told him it would be a bad idea. It was not smart to get involved with the Nilsens. If anybody found out—

But he couldn’t get the image of Alex, bound and bleeding, out of his head. Alex with his fingers broken. Alex crying out in pain, and it wasn’t even pain that Tracht had caused.

He stopped himself from agreeing immediately, at least. “What kind of favor?”

She pretended to think about it. “A shipment. Sometime in the coming year, I’m going to need a container moved to Pylos. You will transport it from here to Atalanta.”

“If it’s inspected—”

“It probably won’t go well for you.” Nilsen smiled broadly. “I would recommend making sure that particular container isn’t inspected.”

“Once.” Tracht emphasized. “One container, and no more. And only on the condition that we get Alex back alive.”

“What about your nephew?”

Tracht shrugged. “He’s not my concern.”

[Chapter 5]

The kid was crying. Pretending not to, but Alex knew the sounds of somebody sniffling and holding back sobs. He wasn’t even sure what the kid was crying about, because as far as he could tell Johan had gotten a tiny cut and that was it.

Fuck, the blood on his face was starting to itch. Good thing his hands were bound, or he’d be scratching at the new cuts. Woulda probably hurt his broken hand even more, trying to use it to relieve the itch.

The kid kept sniffling. Alex pried his eyelids open and glanced over, but as far as he could tell the little cut on the kid's face was the extent of his torture.

Johan caught him looking. “Alex?”

“What?”

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