Page 6 of Fear and Desire

Dan:

Danleanedbackinhis leather chair, the scotch in the glass in his hand almost gone. He needed a lot more than the small amount he’d consumed, yet this was the worst possible time to drink. He had to stay on top of everything, keeping the hundreds of balls that he was juggling perfectly aligned in the air. A clandestine meeting tonight to discuss some arrangements had kept him gone since before dinner.

One more month. He’d spent almost two years working his way to this point, and in one more month, it would be over. At least the hard part. The clean-up, the de-briefing, the testifying—that would probably consume him for another ten years.

What he was doing was worth it, but it was goddamn hard to keep it up. These women would be treated worse if he wasn’t involved, but he doubted anyone would agree with him save his superiors, who had promised to write him a ‘get out of jail free’ card when this was all over. He’d need it. Would even God give him a pass for what he’d done in the name of bringing a greater evil to an end?

And would he ever forgive himself? There were women who would probably curse his name for the rest of their lives—but if he hadn’t done these things, someone else would have done worse. In the end, they, and many others, would be free because of what he was doing. Physically free. He wasn’t so sure that their minds would ever be free again. The last woman had arrived two months ago, and until the other day, he’d found a reason every time the idea was brought up not to grab any more.

The reason this hell hadn’t been broken up long ago was that in exactly four weeks, there was going to be an auction. As far as DeLeo knew, it had been Dan’s inspired suggestion, and DeLeo had loved it so much he planned to be there in person, dismissing the danger of appearing in public. Almost a hundred very rich men were invited, and all of them had bought and sold women for many years. So far, thirty had accepted the invitation, eschewing the danger of appearing in public. Most of them had egos so big they couldn’t resist showing off their wealth in front of each other. They trusted DeLeo, and DeLeo trusted Dan. And the Agency would be waiting for them. Dan prayed every night that all their plans would be enough to put every one of them in deep, dark holes, forever.

He tossed back the rest of the drink and rose. This latest bit of introspection was courtesy of his talk with Marco. The sadistic sonofabitch was gloating over his uncle’s blessing to go get a replacement for the diabetic woman, who was now in witness protection until this was over. He couldn’t argue with DeLeo about Marco anymore; his boss was getting increasingly paranoid. DeLeo lived far away, hidden so well that years of searching by many governments hadn’t turned up his home. But he watched everything through the cameras that were placed all over the building and fed the signal straight to him, as well as to Dan’s office.

The cameras were a constant nightmare. There were live feeds from the cell, the dining room, the main training rooms, and the big outdoor barn. Turning them off for any reason would be suspicious. There were several rooms that weren’t used often that had cameras turned on only when needed, and both DeLeo and Dan had control of those cameras. DeLeo turned them on at irregular hours and had called Dan out of the blue to comment or ask questions about something he saw. The office had a camera as well, which Dan had insisted on turning off. DeLeo had balked, and they’d compromised by leaving the camera off, but the audio on. Dan had held his breath when he’d made that demand; there was no way to communicate with Josh if the camera had remained on.

Dan’s current, and biggest, headaches were DeLeo’s increased calls, interrogating him about plans for the auction. His second biggest headache was Marco, who held a grudge against Dan, more than once claiming his uncle should have put him in charge. Dan could only imagine the terror Marco would unleash if he was.

There was a knock, and Josh poked his head through the door. Dan motioned him in. Josh was the only person who dared to open the door without permission.

Dan didn’t know what he would have done without his partner for these last two years. Both men were experienced, practiced Dominants, which had gotten them noticed after it had almost gotten them fired. Josh had been in a casual relationship with a submissive when an indignant and moralistic coworker had outed him at the Agency. Instead of being fired, though, he was quietly reassigned and sent northwest from his native Puerto Rico.

Dan hadn’t had any relationships since college, and had little time to devote to frequenting clubs, but as luck would have it, he was seen leaving one on a rare visit. A report was made to his superiors, and he was summoned to his boss’s office, prepared to be fired. To his surprise, they presented him with an opportunity. Dan had listened only a few minutes before he interrupted.

“You think I’m the right man for the job of infiltrating a sex slave ring because I practice BDSM? Obviously you know fuck about it.Consent, Pearson.Consent. That’s the difference. That’s why sex is different than rape. I do not fuck women without their consent, and I never will!” He turned to leave.

“Nor will you ever have to.” A voice from the shadows made Dan’s head whip around. A broad man, almost as tall as Dan and much wider, emerged from the corner.

“AD Lawson?” Now Dan was really confused. He’d never met the assistant director—Pearson’s boss—in person before.

The AD reached a hand out to Dan amicably. After a pause, Dan took it and they shook.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” He kept his voice carefully neutral.

“Perhaps Agent Pearson hasn’t presented this situation as clearly as he should have. We’re after the head of an organization that runs the largest sex trafficking ring in the world. Hundreds of women over the last decade, missing from all over the world, have been victims of this man. We’ve been working for years to get a fix on him, and he’s the slipperiest fish I’ve ever come across. Now, finally, we have an informant inside the organization, and he gave us some staggering information. One of the ‘Farms’, where they hold women until they’re sold, is near here. We’re not exactly sure where, but this contact can provide the necessary introductions for one of my undercover agents to join the organization. I need someone who lives in the general area to make the meeting look plausible.”

“You think one of the Farms is up in these mountains?”

“Yes.”

“So you want me because I’m local, not because of my off-hours andveryprivate activities?” He didn’t try to hide the challenge in his voice.

“Both.”

“Sir, I just got through telling—”

“Dan, let me explain. I know damn well that this isn’t the same, but I need someone who can talk the talk and act the part. You have the confidence of a man who is used to commanding women and being obeyed, even if the obedience has always been consensual. I believe you know how to walk right up to the line where consent stops and coercion starts, and if you have to walk across it to get the job done, you’ll still know where that line is when you return. Your confidence and knowledge are going to put you miles ahead of most of the overgrown bullies we’ve had under surveillance.”

He laid out his cards for Dan, and in the end, Dan had to agree that the operation sounded like it would work. More to the point, the operation was an important one thatneededto work. DeLeo needed to be removed from humanity.

The informant got him into a low-level position that didn’t involve the women at first. He’d met up with Josh Contaldo, who had been in place for a month, and the two had become fast friends. Their ability to speak the language of domination and submission got them noticed, and they moved up quickly, eventually winning DeLeo’s trust and being put in charge of the Farm near Dan’s hometown.

Dan and Josh were exact opposites of each other. Dan was tall, slender, and well-muscled, with blond hair and fair skin that revealed his Scandinavian heritage. He always dressed in a button-down shirt and carefully pressed pants, which set him apart from most of the casually dressed thugs who worked under him.

Josh was shorter but wiry because of his Afro-Hispanic background. The muscles under his brown skin filled out his t-shirts with impressive bulges. He had black hair that curled up in tight ringlets on his head—his mother used to call it ‘perma-hair’ since it never seemed to need any attention—and long eyelashes framing beautiful, expressive brown eyes. Women swooned over him everywhere he went. What kept him from being too pretty was the scar on his right chin and down his throat, a souvenir he earned a few years ago from someone who didn’t understand the difference between consensual sex and assault. He resembled many of the other men and could blend in among them without notice. Dan found him an invaluable partner.

ThenewsJoshbroughthim tonight was not what Dan wanted to hear.

“Marco got another woman.”

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