Chapter 19
Bruiser sat crouched in the shadows, staring up at the unremarkable facade of the five-story building across the street. The muted gray bricks were peeling in places and the sign over the door proclaiming "Precious Treasures Exports" had faded in the Southern California sun. There were no windows on the bottom floor, and the ones on the others were dark and dingy as if they had not been washed in a decade. The neighborhood consisted of similar buildings squatting darkly in the pre-midnight evening, but unlike the others, this one was brilliantly lit, surrounded by a fence and had a small guard shack at the entrance. The dull blue glow of a computer screen lit the occupant's face as his head lolled forward in sleep.
"One guard. Thumbprint pad on the lock," Railroad muttered softly as he lowered the binoculars.
Cowboy melted out of the shadows to their right. "The back cargo door has been welded shut. It'll take a helluva lot of noise to get through there."
"Freight elevator on the east side," Hick whispered. "Thumbprint lock coupled with a code of eight digits. I can get in, but it's going to take some time. Twenty minutes minimum."
Railroad lifted his chin toward the roof where the slowing blades of a helicopter could be seen. "We may not have twenty minutes," he countered. "No telling who that was, nor how long they will be here."
"How we going to play it?" Toad grunted as he shifted.
Bruiser considered all the factors and then nodded toward the front door. "That's the quickest. I'm with Railroad on this. The chopper throws an unknown into the equation. We need to get in there as soon as possible."
Quietly, Cowboy and Railroad approached the guard while Bruiser and Hick advanced on the door. Cowboy threw an arm around the snoring guard, pulled him against his chest and covered his mouth with his hand. There was a grunt then the guard dropped quietly to the floor of the building.
"Bring him over here. If his biometrics are in the database, it'll be quicker than me hacking it," Toad whispered.
Luck was with them. When Cowboy pressed the guard's thumb to the pad, the door slid open with a shnick. Cowboy and Finch dragged him into a side room and deposited him on the floor. They secured the door with an old fashioned deadbolt.
Railroad pulled up the schematics Digger had supplied on his cell phone and studied them. "These look like storage rooms. I'm betting this is just the front for their operations." He pointed to the right to an elevator stopped on the third floor. "That's where I'd look."
Knowing the elevator moving would call attention to their presence, the team chose the stairs instead. Climbing to the third floor, Finch cracked the door and peered inside. With a hand signal indicating he was entering, he slipped through the door and against the wall. Checking out the room, he signaled for the others to enter.
The room was a gathering area decorated like a club or bar. Several elegant chairs scattered around the space, each with an individual small round table placed beside it. Heavy brocade in shades of silver and black draped the walls. The floor underneath was marbled granite and polished to a high sheen.
"What the hell is this place?" Toad looked around in confusion. "It looks like a private club."
"Exclusive club," Bruiser hissed out. "Something tells me I'm not going to like this."
"Reminds me of back home when I would go to the livestock auctions," Cowboy whispered. "There was a set up just like this for buyers and sellers to meet and talk merchandise. It was away from the main floor to give them some privacy in a more relaxed atmosphere. See the telephones on each table? They were directly connected to brokers on the sales floor." He pointed to the televisions mounted on the walls. "Closed circuit. Whatever they are selling, they wanted to be able to watch the main action while they talk."
"Like the stock exchange." Railroad murmured. "But, what are they selling?"
"Women," Finch growled. "They sell women here. This isn't just a simple kidnapping; it's a freaking human trafficking house." He tossed a thin book onto a table. "There's a stack of these behind the bar."
Hick picked up the book and thumbed through it.”Each page showcases a woman complete with pictures and statistics. There are even psychiatric dossiers. Jesus," he swore softly. "Right here in San Diego, a freaking slave auction house." He handed the book to Railroad. "This was a sale last week. Ten girls including four under sixteen-years-old are gone, probably never to be seen again."
The muffled sound of voices behind a wall to their left stopped the conversation. Swiftly, the team melted into shadows. Bruiser strained to hear what they were saying, but the words were too low. He tightened his grip on his sidearm and listened. The sound of a door opening and closing wafted through the wall and then only the sound of a slight hum.
Letting out his breath, Bruiser searched the wall for access to the next room. Finally, he found a small, perfectly round hole behind the drapes. Pushing his finger inside, he felt a latch and pressed it. A door sprang open and admitted the men inside the next chamber.
"What the ever lovin’ hell is that."
Bruiser turned to where Toad was pointing. The room they stood in was circular and filled with more groupings of chairs and tables. As before, thick drapes hang from the ceiling, covering the walls and pooled on the black marble floor beneath. However, it was a glass wall on the interior that had taken Toad's attention.
Bruiser could see several rooms, each like a box, backs to each other with a small hallway running between them. Each of the four glass boxes jutted out toward the room and contained a similar arrangement. In every one, a couch sat in a sea of thick carpeting with a small table nearby. Although themed a little differently, they were eerily the same. It reminded Bruiser of an aquarium. The growing alarm in his gut screamed at him.
Darkness shrouded three of the boxes, but the fourth was brightly lit. A burgundy chaise sat in a sea of cream colored carpet. Bruiser's eyes were drawn to a spot next to the table where a splatter of dark red painted the leg. Even from here he could tell what it was. Blood.
"It's a damn merchandise display area," Cowboy voice was tight. "The sons-of-bitches put the women on display in here so they can be properly shown."
Blind fury slammed into Bruiser as he imagined Olivia confined to the tiny space. His fist tightened around the grip of his pistol, and he growled. He wanted to go back and choke the life out of Cheesy. He wanted to watch the man's eyeballs bulge out as the realization he was going to die dawned on him. He needed revenge for Olivia and for the countless number of women who had been subjected to the inhumane treatment of this twisted sideshow.
"Hold it together, Bruise."
Cowboy's words weren't welcomed, but they had the desired effect. Swallowing the bitterness of his rage, Bruiser gave a quick nod. He was in control. Barely.
"She's not here," Hick murmured after they completed a circuit of the room.
"Then we keep looking. Find one of those voices we heard. Somebody knows something," Bruiser growled
"Roger."
They fanned out, checking the room and the displays quickly.
"Here's the elevator." Railroad pointed to a panel in the wall beside him. "Display says five."
"Then let's go see what's on five." Cowboy was already sprinting for the bar and the door to the stairs.
Taking the steps two at a time, they climbed as far as they could and waited before the door. Railroad put his ear to the panel and listened. "The helicopter is revving up. Be ready for anything."
Bruiser nodded then put his hand on the knob. Counting to three, he shoved the door open, and the team poured out onto the rooftop.
The first thing Bruiser noticed was the small private helicopter lifting from the pad painted on the roof. The second was a face pressed against the window; a face he knew in his dreams. Her cheeks were glistening as if tears had recently flooded them. Something dark made a line from her lip to her chin. If that was blood... He gritted his teeth. Ignoring the others, he raced for the edge of the building as if to jump for the chopper. Finch and Toad grabbed him and pulled him back before he could leap for it.
He screamed.
"OLIVIA!"