Неизвестный - 6. Justice For All Страница 26

Some kind of rushing noise in the background. Water running? “Are you in a house somewhere? Did you see any street signs?”

“No, a hotel. Wait a minute. Let me see. I took a picture.”

Dell’s stomach twisted into a chain of knots. “Can you leave?

Sandy, can you leave right now?”

“I don’t think so. Darla’s with me. I don’t think they’re going to let us just walk out.” Silence. “There. Sheraton.”

“Which one? Does it say?”

“I’m not sure. Close to 95.”

“We’ll be ther—”

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“I gotta go, baby. I’ll try to call you when we’re leaving. It might not be until morning.”

“Jesus, Sandy,” Dell yelled, finally losing her cool. “I want you to get out of there. You—”

“I’ll be okay. I love you.”

Dell was left listening to dead air again. “Jesus Christ!”

“Where is she?” Rebecca said, starting the engine.

“Trenton. Fucking Trenton!”

Rebecca pulled out onto Spring Garden and headed east, cruising around the corner toward the all-night food mart. Watts was just walking up the street with his coffee. She eased up to the curb next to him. “We’ll head up there. But chances are whoever took her will transport her right back down here. They’re not likely to hurt these girls, Mitchell, as long as they don’t find out what Sandy’s doing there.

And Sandy’s smart.”

“If she was that smart, she wouldn’t be there.”

“No. If she weren’t as brave and ballsy, she wouldn’t be there.”

Mitchell rubbed her face. “I could use some of those balls right now.”

“What’s this about your balls?” Watts said, sliding into his seat.

“You having equipment problems, kid?”

“Not now, Watts,” Rebecca said softly.

“No,” Dell said gruffly. “Woman problems.”

Watts blew on his coffee. “Join the rest of us, kid.”

v

Sandy didn’t think she’d been gone more than a few minutes, but when she returned, someone had turned the lights down so that she almost stumbled over an end table. Darla was on the sofa next to a thin man in a white shirt and dark pants. He’d removed his jacket and tie and had his arm draped over her shoulders, his hand on her breast.

Sandy scanned the room. The Russian who’d been in the backseat with her leaned against the wall next to the hallway door. His gaze flicked over her as if she weren’t there, but she had no doubt he knew exactly where she was. Since no one seemed to be paying her any particular attention, she sauntered over to Darla and plopped down next to her. She leaned close, and to anyone looking, it would almost seem

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as if she had kissed her neck. She knew from experience that at these kinds of parties, guys got off on seeing girls getting it on together. Most of her friends in the life were totally comfortable having sex with each other, and most of the time, would prefer it to the anonymous johns. So they always tried distracting the men with a little girl-on-girl action at parties like this. If they got really lucky, sometimes that was enough.

“Everything okay?” Sandy whispered.

Darla clamped onto her thigh with one hand as if to anchor her to the couch. Then she turned and kissed Sandy full on the mouth.

“Missed you, baby.”

Sandy snuggled close, checking to see who might be watching them out of the corner of her eye. A girl knelt on the floor in front of the adjacent chair, giving a man a blow job while he talked on the phone. On the opposite sofa, a big man with hands the size of baseball gloves mauled another girl’s breasts, which he had exposed by pulling her top down and scooping them out like treats from a candy sack.

Sandy hadn’t done anything like this in weeks, longer really, since she’d started falling in love with Dell, and she was sickened in a way she never had been before. She had been numb for a very long time, but she wasn’t anymore. Now she was even more determined to stop these men. All of these men.

“Well, I’m back now and I promise not to leave your side for the whole night. Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is…” Darla, despite being a little freaked by her surroundings, was no neophyte. She read Sandy’s message loud and clear. Dropping her free hand into the thin man’s crotch, she squeezed fleetingly, making him grunt in surprise. “What did you say your name was, honey?”

“I didn’t.” He looked past Darla to Sandy. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sam,” Sandy said, putting a purr in her voice. “I guess my girlfriend got the lucky seat first.”

“You two together?”

“Uh-huh,” Darla and Sandy answered in unison.

Sandy saw his pants tent under Darla’s hand. Bingo. He liked to watch, and watching was the safest thing for them. If they were really lucky, they could string him along until all the other guys were occupied.

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“You don’t mind if I join in, do you?” Sandy slid her arm around Darla’s waist and nuzzled her throat.

“Kiss her,” he said, covering Darla’s hand with his and curling her fingers around the ridge in his pants.

Darla had had practice at this, and they made it look and sound like they were really into each other, showing a lot of tongue more than really kissing. Giving the guy what he expected. Sandy almost never kissed her johns, and hadn’t kissed another woman since Dell. The touch of Darla’s mouth felt strange. Too soft, too casual. When Dell kissed her, she always felt Dell’s need. Dell’s hunger for her. Dell’s kisses could be gentle, but they were always demanding. This was an act, and that was cool with her, especially if it kept her mouth off some guy’s cock.

“Go slow on him,” Sandy whispered in Darla’s ear when they broke for breath. “Don’t let him come right away until everyone else gets busy.”

They went back to fondling and making out while Darla massaged him through his pants. After a while, he unzipped and pulled himself out, but Darla knew how to stretch a hand job into a marathon. By the time he came, everyone else in the room was busy. No one bothered Sandy and Darla as they curled up together in the corner of the couch.

After a while the thin man tucked his flaccid penis back in his pants and sat with his eyes closed, drinking his drink.

v

“What about letting me check out the lobby.” Dell stared at the hotel, her skin itching like fire ants were crawling inside her clothes.

Sandy was in there somewhere. With men who would dispose of her like so much trash if they discovered why she was there. Even if they didn’t hurt her, they were using her. Dell knew what Sandy had done to survive. She didn’t care what Sandy might have to do tonight to stay safe, as long as doing it didn’t hurt Sandy.

“Can’t,” Rebecca said. “You can bet there’s someone in the lobby. They’ll have someone watching the ground-floor elevators, the stairwells, and outside in the hall by the room. No one is going to get close to the men in there.”

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“I can get a look at the guy.”

“And he might look at you. We can’t risk it.” Rebecca turned sideways and stared at Dell in the faint glow of the hotel marquee.

“You’re going to get up close and personal with these guys. But when you do, it’s going to be because Irina introduces you.”

“I’ll take a walk around the block,” Watts said. “They’re going to have a car, maybe two, near an exit. I’ll get the license plates.”

“Make sure your cell is on,” Rebecca said. He waved a hand as he closed the door.

“What good is it to her with us out here,” Dell griped.

“This is surveillance, Mitchell. You know how it works. We watch.” Rebecca moved her seat back to give herself more legroom and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You okay?” Dell asked quietly.

“Yes. Little headache. It’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry. I keep thinking I should’ve seen this coming.”

Rebecca laughed softly. “If you ever get to the point where you know what Sandy’s going to do before she does it, let me know. I’ll promote you.”

“Irina agreed to talk to Dr. Rawlings.”

Rebecca turned her head. “Really? Nice work.”

“I think if we could get Witsec for her, she’ll come around about her sister too.”

“I’ll talk to Clark on Monday.” Rebecca grunted. “Hell. Why should he have a day off. I’ll call him later on today.”

“I want to be at the next one of these parties,” Dell said.

“Good. Because that’s the plan.”

v

By sometime around 4:00 a.m., the only sounds in the suite were a few intermittent moans. Several of the girls were curled up asleep on the floor or draped over slumbering men. A few men, still awake, sat drinking and talking. Another was being serviced by two girls, one with her mouth on his cock, the other offering him her breasts to bite.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” Sandy whispered.

She slid from the couch and carefully slipped into the shadows, making her way down the hall. Earlier when she’d gone to the bathroom

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to call Dell, she’d seen an open door with coats on a bed. After checking that the hall was clear, she darted into that bedroom and closed the door almost completely. A wall sconce gave her just enough light to maneuver by. She pulled her camera out one more time and rummaged through the coats. She knew where to look and quickly found several wallets. Holding the billfolds open to the light, she shot pictures of the driver’s licenses behind their clear plastic coverings. She had no idea if her cell phone camera would be good enough for what she needed, so she committed the names to memory. But she knew her word would never be enough. She needed proof.

She’d just opened the third wallet when a muffled curse and the sound of stumbling footsteps alerted her that someone was approaching.

Her options were limited. The bed was too close to the floor to crawl under. She didn’t want to hide in the closet in case someone had left their coat in there and was coming to retrieve it. Behind the bedroom door.

No. If someone came in and closed the door, she would be instantly exposed. She shoved the wallets back into the coats, praying she had them in the right order, and bolted over the bed and onto the floor on the far side, rolling as close to the bed as possible. The bedroom door opened wide and a shaft of dim light, seeming as bright as a searchlight beam, cut across the room. Sandy held her breath, afraid her panting would give her away. Heavy footsteps approached. The bed sagged as someone sat on the far side, then she heard a few mumbled words in a language she couldn’t understand. It must be one of the Russians.

The unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding down, a grunt, then the liquid sounds of someone sucking. He was collecting a little bonus pay before leaving, which meant that the party was probably going to break up soon. Within minutes he was breathing heavily, and Sandy prayed he would pop quickly before other men began rousing to leave.

His grunting increased and the sucking turned to gagging chokes. The bastard wasn’t letting her breathe, and it was all Sandy could do not to vault over the bed and smash him in the face. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, closed her hands until her nails dug into her palms, and told herself she would only make matters worse if she were discovered.

He gave a hoarse cry and she slowly let out her breath. It was over, and within seconds, they were gone. Trembling, she got to her knees, checked that the room was empty, and hurried to the door. The hall was clear.

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The lights in the main rooms were still turned down low, but as soon as she angled toward the couch she realized something was wrong.

Darla wasn’t there. Quickly, she hurried back down the hall the way she had come. Beyond the room where the coats were stored was another room, and she could hear the wet slap of flesh on flesh. She could also hear Darla crying no.

Bastards. Sandy shoved open the door and stormed across the room all in one motion, yelling, “Hey! That’s my girl.”

A heavy man with his pants down around his thighs had Darla pinned to the bed, one hand on her throat, the other on his cock, which he was trying to shove between her legs. Even in the half light, Sandy could see Darla’s eyes bulging. He was choking her for real. Sandy shoved his shoulder with both hands as hard as she could, catching him unawares and forcing him to release Darla as he stumbled. He was too quick for her to avoid the slashing backhand blow that caught her across the face and knocked her onto the floor. She felt her lip split and managed to roll partially onto her side so that the kick caught her on the back, and not in the face. The force of the blow knocked the air from her lungs, and a buzzing filled her head as another kick skidded off her temple. She gagged, gasping for air, and dimly heard Darla screaming.

Then angry shouts in English, then Russian. Someone lifted her onto the bed next to Darla, who gathered her into her arms.

“Leave her alone,” Darla shouted. “That bastard was choking me.” “Let it go,” Sandy mumbled, still dizzy and sick. “Don’t fight them.”

Darla pressed her face to the top of Sandy’s head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You told me not to go anywhere with anyone. But he said to come with him and I—”

“S’okay. S’okay.”

“We go now,” one of the Russians who had brought them said impatiently. He grabbed them by their arms and yanked them up.

“Now.”

Sandy’s right arm was numb, but her shoulder was in agony, and when he jerked her up, her knees gave way. “Wait. Just a minute.

Please.”

“No,” he said fiercely and dragged her down the hall toward the door.

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Her vision swam and she was only dimly aware of the elevator, the bright lights of the lobby, the cold night air. “Darla?”

“I’m here, honey,” Darla whispered.

Baby, Sandy thought as the doors to the Navigator opened and the big man pushed her inside. Dell, baby, I’m so sorry.

• 215 •

• 216 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-ONE

Sloan swirled the melting ice cubes absently in her glass, then swallowed the rest of the vodka while keying in a new diagnostic with one hand. She was close. Very close. There was a ghost in her machine, and she intended to find it and follow it.

“You’re not quite as good as you think, are you,” she murmured.

She thought of the men she’d seen earlier that night with Kratos Zamora. Somehow, none of them struck her as likely candidates to be her hacker, but appearances really meant nothing. Still, they all looked like handlers or enforcers. Maybe Gregor, the brother, was more than just a figurehead. Maybe he was the brains after all.

While the program ran, she wandered back to the small kitchen to replenish her drink. It was almost dawn. She’d told Michael she wouldn’t be long. That was hours ago, and Michael would be asleep, which was what she really needed, not Sloan’s restless anger. Sloan poured an inch into her glass, not bothering with ice, and leaned against the counter as she sipped it. Her nervous system twanged as if a continuous current ran through it, keeping her edgy. The vodka stirred a fire in the pit of her stomach and with her ass pressed into the counter, she thought of Michael kneeling in front of her in the bathroom earlier, taking her into her mouth, soothing her even as she burned away her unrest.