Istanbul, Turkey – Two Weeks Ago

He wove through the city, his strides long and confident as he maneuvered through the red-light district in Fatih.
 No one questioned his presence as he seemed to belong amongst the local with his dark hair, bronze skin and smouldering green eyes.
 Yet if the men were to look closely, they would have noticed something different about the swarthy stranger, something that did not quite fit with the groove of the hookah-smoking Turks that were seeking out companionship for the evening.
 Perhaps it was the air of authority which exuded from his six-foot three-inch frame, or maybe it was simply something in his aura.
 Whatever the reason, he was easily allotted entry to the brothel through the stairs on the side of the building, landing him along the second story of the stacked house in a cloak of relative darkness.
 “Ah, Mr. Quinn,” Alina gushed as he entered. “I was not expecting you here tonight.”
 He smiled, flashing a glorious line of white teeth and he winked becomingly.
 “I was hoping to see Mia. Is she here?”
 “For you, Mr. Quinn, she is always here.”
 His smiled as he accepted the madam’s outstretched and heavily ringed hand, following her into the bowels of the brothel.
 “I will get you some opium,” she whispered and Mr. Quinn nodded.
 “Thank you,” he replied, kissing her smooth, caramel cheek sweetly.
 Inside the draped room where he was lead, the designs were made up of flagrant reds and gold, with a mass of scarves and throw pillows. The succulent but musky scent of opium and incense met his nostrils as he collapsed unceremoniously onto a pile of pillows, Alina leaving to attend to his party favors.
 As she vanished, he sat up, his eyes circling the room critically.
 It all seemed in order but he had been fooled before. He needed to be more vigilant.
 Mistakes cost lives.
 He forced Riverville’s voice from his mind. Thinking of Riverville could only serve as a distraction at that moment.
 “Here you are, Mr. Quinn,” Alina purred, placing a tray at his side. “Mia is on her way. She is excited to see you as always.”
 He smiled and nodded.
 “Tell her not to rush. I have all night.”
 Alina’s laugh was a musical sound and she whirled to leave him again, her toga-style attire flowing with her as she moved.
 Alina herself had once been a very successful prostitute before being hired to run the Blue Moon brothel.
 Like most of the cathouses in Istanbul, theirs was under the rule of the government.  Typically, the red-light district catered exclusively to the locals but occasionally, tourists made the mistake of venturing into the back alleys of Fatih.
   They were heavily charged and often robbed but unsurprisingly, law enforcement had little sympathy for those men.
 Mr. Quinn was an exception to both the rule and the scrutiny that others in his position seemed to face.
 He had been an occasional fixture at the Blue Moon for as long as any of the girls could remember.  He favored Mia but he was known to stay with others, leaving each one with a lasting impression of his prowess and wealth.
 “Mr. Quinn.”
Her voice was like liquid honey, warm and mellifluous, touching every inch of Quinn’s body before he even laid eyes on her lithe physique.
 “Mia.”
She appeared from behind the drapes, peeking at him playfully, her silken black hair resting about a tan shoulder.
Sensuously, she began to dance into the room, waving an intricate display of scarves about as she approached.
 “I am surprised to see you, Mr. Quinn,” she breathed, lowering her small but firm bosom into his face, methodically moving her shoulders.
 “Are you?”
 “You were here only last week.”
 “Maybe I miss the treatment I receive when I come here.”
Mia smiled coyly but before she could speak, Quinn reached up and pulled her down, crushing his lips to her neck.
 “Your skin tastes like honey,” he told her, slowly pulling his face away as she widened her smoky dark eyes.
 “You taste like danger.”
 He seized her by the waist, pulling her down ruthlessly to the pillow, his mouth now on the small of her throat.
 She moaned quietly, bucking upward as her hands encircled his waist.
 Using his strong hand, he pulled he delicate silk garments away, ripping them without regard, to expose her erect nipples.
 His hand teased the soft skin of one breast while his mouth sucked roughly at the taught flesh of the other.
 “Mr. Quinn!” Mia gasped as he nipped at her.
 His head worked lower while she entwined her fingers in his thick, dark hair.
   With long, even strokes, his fingers began to explore at her juncture, massaging the throbbing button at the top of her opening, his mouth continuing to play at her breasts like fragile instruments.
 He shoved his hand beneath her tiny rear, using his thumb to manipulate her opening as his tongue grew more urgent. Mia bucked upward when his fingers entered her but he held her fast as he continued to suck and lick at her sensitive nipples, drawing her to her climax.
 He ignored the pressure of his own member, ready to tear through his cargo pants, instead drawing out her orgasm until he felt the clenching in her core finally settle down.
 Then she screamed as he added one more finger, this time into her unoccupied entry and immediately, she gave him what he wanted. Another orgasm tore through her, leaving her gasping for breath as her body convulsed around his hand.
 “Turn over,” he ordered harshly. She obliged shakily, propping herself onto all fours.
 He relished the spasms the movement brought and as he undid his pants, and quickly slipped on a condom, he could already hear her screams of ecstasy as he pounded into her.
 Inside her tight, ready rear he pressed himself. She instinctively tensed but he gripped her hips, easing himself in further, almost filling her further than she could bear.
 His unit was huge and difficult for any woman to take but Mia could handle it, despite her tiny frame.
 He rocked into her and a low, feral moan escaped her mouth, the sound encouraging him to push deeper.
 “Fuck me, Mr. Quinn,” she groaned.
 It was all he needed to hear.
 There would be no mercy as he began to hammer into her small backside, his sack slapping against her burning nub as his hand twisted her dark hair into a lasso and he rode her like a wild horse.
 She screamed, over and over, begging him for more and with each plea she was rewarded with a hard, pulsating impalement.
 “I am going to blow,” he muttered. His body clenched hard, his orgasm coming on quickly and ending just as quickly. He never closed his eyes, never trusting his surroundings in the moment of vulnerability when climaxing.
 As the orgasm ended, Quinn smiled tightly, rising to pull his pants back over his hips as he discarded the used condom. He stared at Mia who seemed unable to move.
 “You all right?” he asked and she nodded just slightly.
 “You become better with each visit,” she told him. “I fear you might break me one day.”
He laughed.
 “I think it is safe to say that if I have not broken you yet, I am not likely to do it.”
She shrugged.
 “What is that American saying? There is first time for everything.”
His mouth froze in a line.
 “I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “I am not American.”
 “Canadians do not know American sayings?” she asked innocently but he sensed something in her tone which he did not like.
 “Come,” he said pleasantly. “I ordered a present for you.”
 He gestured at the tray which Alina had brought into the room.
 Mia smiled, flopping onto the pile of pillows and reaching for the black hash-like substance.
 “Ah ah ah,” Quinn said, stepping over to remove the drug from her. “You know the rules.”
Mia pouted at him.
 “And what if I know nothing today?” she whined. He felt himself growing uneasy.
 What was different? He wondered. It was unusual for Mia to give him a hard time. The reason he had chosen her was for her meekness and willingness to please.
 She appreciated good sex, money and opium; it was a match made in heaven.
Today something is different. What is it?
 Mia smiled quickly.
 “I am just kidding,” she told him, patting the pillow at her side. “Please sit and we will talk.”
 Reluctantly, Quinn sat at her side as she used her nail to separate the opium and put it in the cylindrical pipe.
 He tried not to show impatience as the sloe-eyed beauty lit the drug and inhaled from the long end deeply.
 “He is here,” she said as she exhaled.
 “Here in the Blue Moon?”
 Mia shook her head and peered at him.
 “Here in Istanbul. He has been in every night this week.”
 “But not tonight?”
 She grinned, her lids growing heavy as the potent sedative took effect.
 “Not yet.”
 “Who has he seen?”
 Lazily, Mia licked her full lips, her eyes growing glassy as she took another hit and offered him the device.
 He shook his head, trying to mask his annoyance. The opium was never for him, she knew that. She seemed to be playing with him and he did not like it.
 She is becoming too comfortable with our arrangement. I will have to do something about this.
 “Azra, Damla…” Her smile widened. “…and me of course.”
 His sea green eyes flashed at the information.
 “You do not need be jealous,” she teased. “I have much love for everyone.”
 He did not bother to respond, instead rising from the pillows to find his shirt which had been discarded during their sexual tryst.
 Mia’s face registered surprise.
 “You are leaving?” she asked. “You have not even been here an hour!”
 “I have work to do,” Quinn replied, pulling the white shirt over his broad shoulders. Mia scowled.
 “At least allow me to finish,” she snapped and he regarded her through narrowed eyes.
 “I am sure you have many clients who will be happy to provide you with the same favors.”
 Mia’s jaw locked. She knew that the men who visited did not provide the same creature comforts that his visits did. Moreover, if Alina caught her smoking, she would be punished severely and potentially cast from the house.
 It was only for Quinn that the madam turned a blind eye to his indulging the girls. He was, after all, a favored and wealthy client.
 “You use me!” she whined and Quinn wondered how long she had been so irritating. Her true nature must have snuck up on him when he was not paying attention.
 This is what happens when you are not vigilant, he thought wryly.
 “You are a whore,” he reminded her bluntly. “You get paid to be used.”
 A slow, cruel twist touched her mouth as she laboriously sat up.
 “You forget that you ask many questions. I wonder if our friend would like to know someone is looking for him.”
 The gravity of Mia’s words struck him and he steeled himself as a familiar rage filled his bones.
 He turned deliberately, his form towering over her.
 “I am going to pretend I did not hear you say that,” he told her quietly, willing her to show contrition.
 She did not.
 Instead, her face grew mocking and she sat forward on her knuckles like a monkey.
 “I can say it again if you like.”
 He bit down on his lower lip and stared down at her leering face.
 Suddenly, she lost the smirk, her eyes growing wide as she began to struggle for breath.
A slender hand reached for her throat, the other reaching out for him.
 He continued to watch her, his irises boring into her, his face expressionless.
 “You should be very cautious about whom you threaten, Mia,” he told her conversationally. She gasped, choking for air, fingers clawing at her windpipe in terror.
 Quinn jutted his chin slightly and she flew backward, landing in the pile of pillows, writhing in horror as her face turned red.
 Maintaining his gaze on her thrashing form, he dug into his pants and withdrew a fistful of bills, tossing them at her feet carelessly.
 “No tip today,” he told her, whirling to leave.
 As he broke eye contact with her, a gush of air and a gasp escaped Mia’s mouth.
 “What did you do to me?” she choked after him.
Quinn did not turn around.
 “It must be a bad batch of opium,” he commented. “You should be careful. The next one could be fatal.”
 He exited the room, ignoring her scared sobs as he did.
 Mia’s play at power did little to trouble him. The girl had no idea with whom she was dealing.
 Although I imagine she is beginning to get an idea now.
 He had been using the prostitute as an informant for the better part of a year, whenever his work took him to Istanbul.
 He had other girls in other parts of the world, some wiser than others.
 I can’t fault Mia for becoming ambitious, he mused as he left the brothel and carried on inconspicuously through the night. She would not be the first woman to try her hand at moving up.
 She is lucky she is s woman though, he thought. If she had been a man who tried to manipulate him, she would be dead. He pushed the image of the frightened exotic beauty from his mind.
 Right now he had other things with which to concern himself.
 Like finding Morcan.
 He would be back later. Mia’s information had never been faulty.
 If his prey followed routine, Morcan would return to the Blue Moon that evening where Quinn would be waiting.
 Of course, he won’t know me as Quinn when he sees me, will he?