Hello everyone! I finished a new story about two days ago and now I present it for your consideration! If you find any errors in the text, please let me know, I'll fix it!
Art stealer's latest case
There comes a point in every person's life when they must step away and retire, especially if they live on both sides of the law. Julia Haley thought about it often enough. She was twenty-eight years old, still strong and agile enough to do theft, but she wanted something different. Besides, the White Marten was famous. When she was eighteen, she loved hearing about her victories on TV, but over time, she had managed to learn modesty. Moreover, she knew several detectives for whom catching the White Marten was a matter of honor, and they spared no expense. In the past six months, Julia had miraculously avoided capture twice. The first time, she had encountered a state-of-the-art security system that memorized many parameters on video and could identify a person in a crowd. It had cost her considerable effort to find the server room and destroy the hard drives. The second time was when one of her former associates bought his freedom by telling her everything he knew about her. Fortunately, for her, he did not know much, but she had to change her habits to avoid arrest.
Julia was a rather tall woman, about five feet eight inches tall, with blonde hair down to the middle of her back and large blue eyes. She was no stranger to sports and martial arts, so she had quite strong muscles, which she hid under loose clothing. Gymnastics was her secret weapon in the difficult business of art stealing, so she spent a good deal of time practicing. She spent too much time and realized that soon she would have to give way to young talents, and therefore it was time to prepare escape routes.
For her latest case, the woman decided to prepare herself seriously. She realized that she was taking a big risk, but decided to take a job at the gallery of Joshua Clark, a famous banker and collector of fine arts. She did this in order to scout out all the approaches to the gallery and play big. In Clark's gallery was the painting "Eternal Warrior", by the famous artist Desmond Thorwald. The order for this painting had been on a closed thieves' site for a long time, but so far, there was no one who would try to steal, for legends about the paranoia of Joshua and the serious security system of the gallery have long been among the burglars. The woman decided to make her latest case the culmination of her abilities. Dressed in her best business suit, she headed to the interview.
Joshua Clark was a cheerful, short, fat man who asked Julia many questions about everything. He seemed interested in every little detail of her life, but she did not want to tell him what was going on. She lowered her eyes modestly, blushed at compliments, and generally played the cute and clumsy fool. After some thought, Joshua offered her the position of his personal consultant, and she accepted. The first months of work were too busy, so Julia came home in the evening and went straight to bed. More or less sorted out, she could afford to flirt with the guards, laugh with her office mates, who turned out to be young and cheerful graduates of Art History College. Occasionally Joshua called her in to ask her opinion on various paintings and statues he planned to acquire for his collection. Julia tried to establish herself as a professional, so she thought carefully about every phrase she said.
She spent a long time preparing for her heist. Unexpectedly, she found some vulnerabilities in the security system that could make her robbery much easier. She was able to figure out the blind spots in the cameras, found a window where the alarm system didn't work, and learned all the rooms and corridors. It took her almost six months to do all of this, during which time she became quite familiar with the gallery.
Shortly before the planned date of the robbery, two young people in strict suits came to the gallery - a guy and a girl, very similar to each other, like twins. They introduced themselves as Special Agents Armando and Emeline Oscuro of the Central Bureau of Investigation. Julia and her young colleagues immediately noticed these two special agents, primarily because they were very young and quite beautiful. Black-haired, brown-eyed, with aristocratically refined faces. It was obvious that they were not office workers, for their movements gave away those who knew how to use their bodies with maximum efficiency. They were very friendly, without the usual contempt of special agents for mere mortals.
Julia could not understand the reason for their appearance at the gallery. They spent a lot of time in the office of Joshua Clark and his head of security Leonard Zimmer, talking about various topics with the staff. One day Armando came into their office during the lunch break and over a cup of tea that, told many amusing stories. Julia caught herself thinking that often looks at the young man with interest and even thought about whether it is not worth it to seduce him? At least to rub the nose of the office neighbors who were shooting their eyes at the handsome special agent and who had an increased amount of makeup on their faces. Emeline, Armando's sister, was more often in the hall, looking at the exhibition and asking many tricky questions about this or that painting, half of which no one could answer.
***
Julia swung easily over the fence and crept noiselessly toward the gallery building. She knew exactly where the window was, where the alarm system did not work well and always showed that everything was fine. She had another problem, the security cameras on the corners of the building. The cameras in the back only had one blind spot, but to use it, she still had to get there. She needed to run seventy feet of open space in three and a half seconds. Pulling out a stopwatch, she began timing the cameras from the leftmost points to the rightmost points. Measuring the time a third time, she made sure the camera settings had not changed and prepared to roll. When the stopwatch showed seven seconds, Julia rushed toward the building and pressed herself into the wall, knowing that the cameras would not pick her up in that spot. The window was about thirty feet away, so Julia waited for the cameras to separate again. Finally, when the moment was right, she rushed to the window and, with all her might, lifted the frame and ducked inside, catching her breath. She wanted to take off her mask and wipe the sweat from her forehead, but she could not.
The woman really did not like having federal agents hanging around the gallery, but they had nothing against her. Fortunately, the current security shift was not particularly industrious, so Julia had a plan to neutralize them properly so they would not interfere with her bypassing the alarm system in the gallery itself. She slipped out of the room and walked down the hallway, trying to tread as quietly as possible. She reached the security room quickly and listened. She heard a man's laughter that she recognized immediately. Jake was a very nice young boy who even had a bit of a crush on her. He always opened the door for her, interacted respectfully and was so touchingly embarrassed when she complimented him. The woman even felt a little uncomfortable about what she was about to set up. She had not thought of such a thing before, so really - the last thing to do.
Julia removed a small pistol from her belt and listened again. The gun was a toy, but it looked real. She heard the husky voice of Robert, hired on the patronage of someone close to Joshua Clark. He was a commando-like person, but Julia knew he had been discharged from the army because of a strange injury. It was rumored that Robert had hurt himself. Quietly opening the door, the woman peeked inside. Robert and Jake were not the only ones in the room. At the table with a large cup of tea sat a pretty, black-haired, slender girl in a turtleneck. She was Special Agent Emeline Oscuro, who giggled at the simple jokes of her interlocutors. Julia broke into a cold sweat. She had hoped only Jake and Robert would be there, but if Emeline was here, was Special Agent Armando Oscuro around? It was too late to retreat, and there was no reason to. Julia raised her gun and stepped inside the security room.
“Everyone shut up and put your hands where I can see them!” the woman said in a husky, husky whisper, pointing the gun at Jake's forehead.
“Who are you, lady?!” Robert asked in surprise.
“Shut up and put your hands up”, Julia turned toward the man, who turned pale and put his hands up. Jake looked helplessly at the security desk behind the armored glass. One of the guards is required to sit there and sound the alarm if anything happens. “My name is White Marten and today I decided to visit your gallery!”
“Madame Marten, the hours of the gallery are from nine in the morning to six in the evening, and now it's half past three in the morning, we are closed”, Emeline said, raising her hands obediently. “Come back in the morning and you can see our exhibits! I especially recommend the sculpture dedicated to the philosophical movement of axeism!”
Julia, keeping the barrel of her gun pointed at the guards, took off her backpack and tossed it to Jake.
“Open it!”
Jake opened it and stared at the neatly folded skeins of rope and duct tape and cable ties. He looked up at Julia.
“Now you will take the cable ties and tie the hands of your companions”, Julia ordered. “The option of being killed, I don't think anyone would like that.”
The young guy looked at Emeline and blushed. Julia almost let out a sigh.
“Hurry up!” the woman shouted. Jake pulled out two zip ties. He walked over to Emeline and pulled her arms behind her back. The girl's shoulders slumped back a little, and the turtleneck tightened around her small but firm breasts. Jake panted, clearly struggling with arousal. Trying not to look at Emeline, he walked over to Robert.
“What, you're not even going to try to resist, rookie?” Robert snorted, putting his hands behind his back, and when the restraints tightened around his wrists, he added, “Snot!”
Jake, whose wrists Julia had tightened the same tie, took a seat next to Emeline. Then Julia pulled out a skein of duct tape and wrapped it tightly around the guards' heads at the level of their mouths.
“Who else is in the building?” she asked, looking sternly at Emeline.
“Ah, you finally remembered”, the raven-haired girl, snorted. She had not lost her composure, and there was a kind of mischievous mood in her demeanor. “Fuck you, bitch!”
“Well, well, well”, Julia shook her head and wrapped the duct tape around the girl's head. Then she pulled out the ropes and skillfully tied all three of them tightly and securely to the chairs. Several skeins of rope were passed between the spokes of the chairs and pulled the captives' bodies tightly against the backs of the chairs, bonus, Emeline's ropes emphasized her breasts. The legs of all three hostages were crossed at the ankles, tied together. Julia then pulled their legs to the backs of the chairs under the seat so they could not get up and move around the room with the chairs. In addition to their ankles, several coils of rope were wrapped around their thighs and shins. Julia had also tied the captives' wrists with ropes, in addition to the ties. In a mischievous mood, she took the pleasure of groping Jake's crotch, which was poking up under his clothes, and Emeline's breasts, which glared angrily at Julia with her brown eyes. She thought about pulling down Jake's pants and pulling up Emeline's turtleneck, but Julia quickly dismissed the idea. In the process, she only lightly punched Robert in the stomach when he tried to hit her with a rock-hard forehead. The man bent over, and Julia realized she had overdone it. As a final step, she slipped loosened restraints around the necks of all three of them, the other ends of which she tied to chairs so that the captives would not struggle too hard to free themselves.
Julia exited the guardroom, turning out the lights on the way out, leaving the three captives helpless and bound, eyes glaring angrily. Locking the door to the control room as well as the guardroom, she tucked the large bunch of keys into her backpack and decided to find Armando. She had no doubt he was somewhere in the gallery. Listening closely, she did not hear a sound. Perhaps he was asleep somewhere. She walked cautiously around the gallery, but no one was there. It was possible that on this night, only the two guards and Special Agent Emeline were left in the gallery, and Armando could be sleeping somewhere in the car. Julia went cold - perhaps she had turned off the lights in the security room for nothing, it might be alarming. The best thing to do was to get all three of them into a bathroom somewhere and tie them up there. She decided not to rush to change anything, but just to do her job quickly and run away before anyone missed her. She was sure that the guards and the special agent would have an unforgettable night.
Julia reached the main gallery, where the painting "Eternal Warrior" was displayed, and looked at the dragon leaning over the two knights. The alarm could be disabled from the back room, the key to which had been in her backpack for a quarter of an hour. She pulled it out and opened an inconspicuous door. It did not take her long, and soon the alarm panel beeped and the barely perceptible hum died down.
The woman came out of the back room and walked over to the painting. It was quiet. She pulled out her blade and was about to cut the canvas from the frame when a quiet but confident voice sounded behind her.
“Good evening, Ms. Haley!”
She turned sharply and met her gaze with Armando standing a few feet behind her. The young man seemed unarmed, and besides, he was not dressed in a business suit as he was during the day. Dark pants, a dark T-shirt with the logo of a famous rock band, a neckerchief tied around his throat.
“That mask doesn't match your eyes; you looked much better in a businesswoman's suit”, Armando grinned.
“And who can tell where the mask is and where the real face is?” Julia broke the silence.
“Fair enough”, Armando nodded. “Miss Haley, maybe you should take off your mask, because it's uncomfortable to talk like this.”
“I don't think so!” the woman shook her head. “At least because I'm not Ms. Haley”.
“And I'm not a federal agent then”, the young man grinned.
Julia pulled out her gun, hiding it behind her hip. She raised it, but Armando managed to get out of the line of fire and while Julia was aiming at him, the agent was right in front of her. With his left hand, he grabbed the woman's wrist and twisted it. The gun fell to the floor and Armando's foot motion sent it sliding to the other end of the hall. Julia twisted out of his grip and tried to kick Armando in the groin, but he dodged here too. She hit him in the thigh, and he in turn landed a series of punches to the stomach. If it were not for her trained abs, Julia would have had a hard time. The underhooks went in and Armando went down, but at the last moment, he grabbed hold of Julia, pulling her to the floor as well. The struggle on the floor was intense. Julia did not try to use any more techniques, just pounded wherever she could, not allowing her opponent to get up, but she could not get up herself, because Armando, though he was defending himself, didn't forget to "bite" the woman with light blows. For some reason he did not hit her in the face or head, though that would have been more logical. Julia grinned beneath her mask, for her opponent turned out to be a true gentleman. She tried to pull herself up, but it was a mistake. Barely had she gotten off the ground when a sharp jolt toppled her, and Armando climbed on top and quickly put the woman's hands behind her back. The sound of a cable tie being tightened and Julia realized her career was over. Armando reached up and pulled the mask off Julia's head. Her blonde hair, gathered in a bun, fell apart over her shoulders. Armando pulled the woman to the wall and leaned her against it.
"Hello again, Ms. Haley," Armando smiled, squatting down in front of the woman and looking into the blue eyes of her beautiful face. "Thank you for sparring, very... invigorating, I almost fell asleep while I was waiting for you."
“Mr. Oscuro...” the woman stretched out. “You caught me after all.”
“Not just caught me, but in the guise of the White Marten,” Armando nodded at the clothes that tightly encased Julia’s athletic figure.
“What did I do wrong?”
“It's hard to say. I was just using my instincts. Your movements, your demeanor... Everything made you look like a dangerous predator, not an office cutie.”
“You're a predator, too, as it turns out.”
“Thanks for the compliment, but I'm an omnivorous raven,” Armando smiled, but turned serious. “Actually, I don't really care about the Eternal Warrior. My sister and I came to this damn town because of you, Ms. Haley.”
“So what made the federal agency interested in the humble art historian?”
“Six months ago, you stole two small tiger figurines from the mansion on Gladys Island. One had rubies in its eyes, the other emeralds. My... executives would like to know who you sold them to.”
The young man's brown eyes looked fixed and somewhat indifferent, and Julia became nervous.
“If you tell me, I'll personally escort you to the exit, take the bunch of keys, and go free my sister and the local slackers. I'm sorry; I won't let you steal the painting.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Well, that's too bad. I guess I'll have to turn you in to the police”, Armando sighed and rose to his feet. Armando turned sharply toward the exit of the hall and tried to duck behind the statue of the wind god. Julia heard something cut through the air and jabbed into something soft, and then Armando let out a curse. She could see from the silhouette that he had torn something from his own neck with force and with a glimpse of it, threw it away. Suddenly, from behind one of the statues, a man stepped out into the moonlight, came closer to Julia, and looked at her.
“Did the famous White Marten get caught?” he grinned, and Julia turned pale. She recognized the silhouette of Thomas Moreau, her main rival in the difficult business of art stealer. Thomas looked her over and turned toward where Armando Oscuro was hiding.
“Mr. Oscuro, if I'm not mistaken?” Thomas asked loudly.
“Do I know you?” Armando's muffled voice came from the back of the room.
“Not personally, but a good acquaintance of mine has told me about you.”
“Who?”
“I'm not talking about him now. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“That's all right. It won't take long. You see, Mr. Oscuro, the point of the dart was laced with venom of green spider. You know what that is, don't you?”
Armando did not answer, and Thomas looked at Julia.
“If the antidote is not administered in the first few minutes, there will be mild muscle paralysis, but tissue sensitivity and mental clarity will be fully preserved. The duration depends on the dose. Can you hear me, Mr. Oscuro?”
Armando also remained silent. He could feel the poison beginning to take effect. At the very least, it was getting much harder to move around, no trace of his former lightness. He tried to get to the back room with the alarm system, where he could lock himself in and set off the alarm. However, it was in addition, far from where the second art stealer had caught him. Moreover, the time wasted on a brief interaction... Armando collapsed to the floor three steps away from the coveted door, cursing quietly.
“Mr. Oscuro, are you all right?” Thomas asked and walked over to the young man lying on the floor. Julia, meanwhile, had tried to escape. Taking advantage of the fact that only her hands were bound, she cautiously stood up and crept toward the exit. Thomas, meanwhile, dragged Armando over to some pedestal on which stood a low marble statue of a cherub. When he heard Julia leave, Thomas quickly caught up with the woman, grabbed her by the hair, and stabbed her in the neck with a dart. The dosage of this dart was obviously higher because she quickly felt weak. Thomas led her over to the immobilized Armando. Moreau knocked the statue to the floor, causing its head to break off.
“Cheap knockoff”, he snorted and sat Julia down on an empty pedestal. He then pushed Armando onto the pedestal so that his back was resting on Julia. You could tell by the wild eyes that the young man was furious, but he could not move a finger. Thomas picked up Julia's dropped backpack and pulled the ropes from there.
“You're quite the hoarder, aren't you? Thank you, that'll be a big help.”
The first thing Thomas did was to cut the cable ties around Julia's wrists. He tied Julia's left hand to Armando's right hand and her right hand to his left. After that, he began to bind the torsos of the captives tightly together. Several coils above and below the woman's high breasts. He tied each captive's legs at the ankles, over the calves, and over the thighs, and then used the longest rope to tie the captives' legs together, lifting them off the floor to keep them from giving them a fulcrum. The final touch was the gags. He did not bother to use duct tape. To further humiliation the captives, he decided to use parts of their clothing. He cut off the top of Julia's suit, leaving her topless, and cut the lycra suit into small pieces, then ripped off Armando's neckerchief, staring at his throat with widened eyes. Julia could not see what was there, but suspected a tattoo. Coping with his emotions, Moreau cut the neckerchief in half. With the lycra pieces of the suit, he filled their mouths, then wrapped the scraps of the neckerchief around them. Stepping back a few steps, he admired the scene.
“You guys look beautiful. Like real comic book heroes!” he summarized and took out his phone. He took a few pictures from different angles and put the phone away. “Now, I need to do what White Marten couldn't.”
The captives slanted their eyes to see Thomas Moreau walk up to the Eternal Warrior painting, pull out a knife, and examine it. It did not escape the captives' notice the way Thomas flushed with anger. He cut the canvas, rolled up the tube, and approached Julia.
“Did you do this?!” he shook the painting in the woman's face. “Confess!”
Moreau grabbed her by the chin and pulled her head up.
“You switched the painting?! Or did you?!” he walked over to Armando and struck the young man across the face with the painting. Armando's head flailed helplessly. Moreau ran over to the next painting and examined it closely before bursting into laughter.
“Joshua Clark, what a smart ass he is! So you both suffered for nothing?! That's so funny!” Thomas looked at the painting, then threw it down on the floor on the cherub and left.
At one point Julia felt Armando, start to move. It gave her optimism that the young man would be able to get free before the gallery staff arrived. She hated to be caught looking like this. She hoped she could make a deal with Armando. When the ability to move returned to both of them, they tried to untie the knots, only they were too high up to reach. It took all night to try unsuccessfully to free themselves. Therefore, when the first employees arrived at the gallery, the first thing they saw were three people bound and gagged in the guardroom: two security guards and Special Agent Emeline Oscuro. A more entertaining exhibit awaited them in the main room of the gallery: on a pedestal formerly belonging to a marble cherub, their colleague Julia Haley sat bare breasted, bound back-to-back to Special Agent Armando Oscuro with a cleave gags in their mouths. The alarm was off, and the Eternal Warrior painting lay crumpled on the floor like a cloth. The morning was off to a disgusting start.
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F), Chapter 3 (finale) added
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F), Chapter 3 (finale) added
Last edited by dream713 8 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
My stories:
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
Nice story, I hope to see a continuation 
Quite a fun story. Who doesn't want to be tied up with a sexy art thief?
Chapter 2.
Rose Montgomery, an elderly woman, was in her fifth year as the caretaker of the private gallery of Joshua Clark, a well-known banker. The job was not difficult - she came to the gallery every morning, inspected the exhibition and checked the order in the halls, and then waited for the cleaning company to come to remove dirt and rubbish. Moreover, if any of the exhibits were damaged, she would call in the restorers so that they could assess the extent of the damage.
On that morning, Mrs Montgomery arrived at work as usual. Opening the main entrance with her key, she was not surprised at the absence of guards at the post. She did not go into the guardroom, since the guards could simply fall asleep, and the woman always felt sorry for them. Instead, Rose took the wide, straight staircase up to the first floor, where the exhibit was located. She walked through several small themed rooms and saw that the door to the main exhibit was ajar.
Mrs. Montgomery pushed the door open, and the first thing she saw was the absence of the jewel of the collection, the painting "The Eternal Warrior" that hung directly opposite the entrance. Grasping at her pounding heart, the woman took a few steps inside when she heard a woman's muffled voice.
“Hmwn! Whghh hmrw!”
The woman's voice was echoed by a man's, bassy but also muffled too.
“Wmh mnn nn mmhn mhwn!”
Rose turned towards the voices and was horrified. On the floor was a broken statue of the little cherub she had once christened "Johnny" because he resembled an old acquaintance of hers, a nickname later adopted by everyone, even Mr Clark himself. Johnny's head was chopped off, but he was in one piece. His pedestal, however, was occupied by an entirely different and spicier composition. Two young people, a black-haired man and a blonde-haired woman, were sitting back to back on the pedestal. The situation was unusual in that they were both bound and gagged, and the woman was topless. As Mrs. Montgomery looked closer, she shook her hands when she recognised the woman.
“Miss Haley! Julia! What monster did this to you?!” the woman wailed as she approached the prisoners. She also recognised the young man on close inspection - Special Agent Armando Oscuro of the Bureau of Special Investigation.
Art historian Julia Haley was annoyed at the sight. Mrs. Montgomery quickly went to a back room and brought from there a pair of scissors with which she tried to cut the thick ropes, to the suppressed moans of the captives.
“Msh thw ghnph!” Armando moaned through the gag, rolling his eyes in impatience. It was only after the third or fourth suggestion from both of them that Rose realised she had to remove the gags first.
“Use the knife,” the young man wheezed and coughed. His throat ached.
“And bring us a drink,” Julia asked.
“Of course, my dears! Wait a minute!”
Two minutes later, when the ropes were cut and the captives had drunk one bottle of water for two, Rose Montgomery calmed down.
“Who did this to you?! And where are the guards!”
Armando slapped his forehead, and Julia froze fearfully. She remembered that she had used the restraints over the necks the day before to keep the prisoners from escaping. She had intended to remove them before she left, but she never got away. Armando ran towards the guardroom, and Julia awkwardly covered her breasts.
“Who did this to you?”
“A burglar broke into the gallery. He attacked Mr Oscuro and me…”
“How awful! He stole the painting!”
“It's not stolen, just ruined,” Julia took the canvas and unfolded it. The paint was chipped in places, but it smelled faintly of solvent. She held the canvas up to her eyes and realised that Thomas Moreau had been right. The painting was a forgery, and a crude one at that. She was willing to bet on her head that two days ago the painting had been real.
***
Armando ran down to the ground floor, jumping up the steps and running to the guardroom. The door was locked, but he didn't want to go back to Julia. After assessing the door, he tried it on and hit it with his shoulder. The door bent with a thud, and his shoulder ached. The Special Agent stepped back and, sprinting, struck again. The door yielded a third time. The hinges flew forward, and the lock was surprisingly strong. The first thing Armando smelled was the disgusting odour of dirty socks. Given that the window was closed and the room was hot, the strong odour made his eyes water.
The three hostages were sitting in their chairs, their faces pale, and one of them, a young boy, was on the verge of fainting. The arms of all three of them were tied behind the back of the chair with rope, their torsos were pulled to the same back by several skeins passed between the spokes, which meant that it was impossible to stand up if they wanted to. The bound legs were raised and fastened to the crossbar under the seat with a rope. Not all of them, however, Emeline had managed to break the rope and was now using her fingertips to keep the young guard's chair from falling over. Apparently the prisoners had tried to move with their chairs during the night and the boy's chair had tilted dangerously. Armando remembered his name - Jake. If it hadn't been for Emeline, he might well have suffocated because of the restraint around his neck. Emeline and the adult guard had the exact same restraints. The adult guard, however, was sweetly sleeping. The source of the odour was also quickly revealed - the guard's boots were lying a little ways away. He must have dropped them in his attempts to free himself.
Armando caught his sister's gaze, which promised to bring down all imaginable punishments on his head. The young man walked over and put the guard's chair in a stable position. Then he reached the window and swung it open. He then removed the restraints from the necks of all three of them and removed the gags from the mouths of the sister and the young guard.
“Where have you been all night?!” Emeline hissed. “You were supposed to disarm Marten and come here!”
“I did. Only another burglar came in and gave me a spider poison dart, and then you see,” Armando said quietly, holding out his hand to his sister, which still had rope marks on it, and then adding, lowering his voice even more, “Mrs. Montgomery came and freed us.”
“Us?” Emeline's eyes squinted dangerously. “Who was that with you?”
“The art historian, Miss Haley,” Armando replied indifferently, cutting the ropes holding his sister's torso to the chair. Emeline was already rubbing her aching wrists. Soon, she was free and stood on her stiff legs, nearly falling over. Armando picked her sister up and helped her to sit on the chair. The girl bent over and began to rub her feet. Armando, meanwhile, approached the adult guard. The young man did not want to get close to his feet, so he simply cut the ropes around his wrists and body and slapped him on the head. The man jumped up. Armando shoved a knife from the table into his hand and released Jake.
“Thank you, Emeline, you saved my life!”
“I'll send you the bill, Jake,” she laughed over her shoulder and turned to the second guard. “And you, freak, wash your stinking feet more often!”
“Rob, I respect you, but Emeline's right.”
“Fuck you sissies! You're the reason I couldn't catch Marten!”
Emeline didn't listen to the guards' bickering and walked briskly out of the guard room. The first thing she did was to go outside and breathe in.
“Where is that bitch?” the girl asked.
“In the main hall...fuck!” Armando turned around and walked back quickly. He was sure that Julia had already escaped and what was his surprise when the woman found herself near the painting "The Sorcerer's Doll" by the little known artist Lazarus Moretti. She was already wearing a T-shirt two sizes larger. Hearing footsteps, the woman turned around and looked at Armando.
“The most valuable exhibits are fakes. Did you know that?”
Armando shook his head, but breathed a sigh of relief. Julia had not escaped, so there was still room for political manoeuvring.
“Two days ago everything was in order, and the originals were here. Do you realise what that means?”
“I guess,” the young man replied, barely catching the furious meteor that flew into the room.
“Let me go, Mando, I'll scratch that bitch's eyes out,” Emelin hissed. “And for safety violations! And for chemical weapons! And for having her hands all over me!”
“Meli,” Armando pulled his sister to him, hugged her tightly and kept her away from Julia. “You'll kick her ass, but later. There is something strange going on here that we have to figure out before we leave.”
“What do you mean?” The girl asked, turning her head.
“Miss Haley, is what you just said true?”
“Exactly. The inventory was taken three days ago and everything was in order then. And today, the most valuable paintings here are forgeries, and they're crude,” Julia sank down on the bench tiredly and looked up at the black-haired girl. “Miss Oscuro, my apologies. I was in distress too. Are the guards all right?”
“One of them almost went to the Valley of the Shadow of Death because of his own clumsiness,” Emeline said menacingly, causing the blonde woman to turn pale. ”Thank goodness the rope between the rung and my legs had snapped and I'd been able to keep him from falling.”
“I owe you one,” Julia mumbled through her lips.
“I'm sure you do. Armando, what do you think you're going to do?” Emeline looked at her brother.
“Now, girls, we're going up to Miss Haley's study. There, she will brew us all three some strong coffee, we will rob Tessa's fridge for some scones and have some breakfast. Then we will think on a full stomach!”
“Let's go,” Julia nodded and led the special agents into the office she shared with the three girls.
***
“So, what do we have in the end?” Armando said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair with a cup of strong coffee in his hands. “There was a breach in the security system the size of a football field. Two burglars got into the gallery independently of each other.”
“And two special agents,” Julia observed. “Also odd. What were you investigating here?”
“A covert investigation,” Emelina snorted.
“Our reasons for being here have nothing to do with the artworks,” Armando shook his head. “Were you hired to steal the Eternal Warrior?”
“No one hired me,” Julia grinned smugly. “I'm on my own.”
“Good thing you weren't. I placed an order on the Bright Exchange.”
“Yeah, that's the one. Okay, stop. How do you know about the exchange?!”
Armando ignored her question.
“How long was the order on hold?”
“Long. Six months.”
“What is changed in the last few days?”
“I started my apprenticeship. I got a job here and...”
Before Julia could finish, the door swung open and Tessa, a chubby redhead in her mid-twenties, walked into the office.
“Julia! Are you okay?! Mrs. Montgomery told us the worst. And Jake and Robert say we've had a visit from the White Marten herself. What's she like?”
“She's a bitch,” Emeline said instead of Julia, grinning. “She's unprincipled and arrogant, and she doesn't follow safety procedures.”
Julia glared angrily at the girl, but she held her gaze with dignity.
“The White Marten is very strong,” Armando said, interrupting his sister. “I am not new to martial arts, Meli and I had excellent teachers, but I did not always realize whether she was striking with her arm or her leg. Anyway, she kicked me. I lay there, beaten like a dog, tied up. Thinking of eternal things while the robbery was going on. Miss Haley came into the gallery early in the morning, saw me and decided to help. She did not have to look round and run away and call the police…” The young man waved his hand doomfully. “Against Marten, she did not had a chance. She flew up, twisted Julia and laid her down next to me. Then she decided to have some fun.”
“Wow!” Tessa was surprised. “I wouldn't want to get in her way.”
“You are right. If you see robbers, you should run and call the police, that way you will stay in one piece. Is Mister Clark here yet?”
“I saw him get out of the car.”
“Then we will go see him.”
On the way, Armando whispered to his companions.
“Not a word about the forgeries or the second robber. I will solo, Meli will help me, Julia, and you have the hardest job of all: blushing and embarrassing yourself.”
***
Joshua Clark was shouting, spitting and waving his arms around in his office. The three conspirators stood on the threshold, listening to a second round of swearing. Fortunately, Joshua's anger was directed at the White Marten.
“What kind of person is she? When she's not stealing, she's sure to ruin everything! To crumple up such a masterpiece and throw it on the floor!” resented the banker. “And why did she spoil our Johnny?”
“It did not seem to be badly hurt,” said Armando, who was tired of hearing the same thing. “Just put some glue on its head and put it back in place. A little plaster and you are done.”
“You're a restorer? I don't understand, if you're here, how did Marten get here?!”
“I am no restorer, but I have had to glue statues together. We underestimated the White Marten's capabilities. If we had not been there, she would steal half the gallery,” Armando smiled, but Joshua did not recognise the ambiguity of the phrase.
“Yes. And you, Julia, what were you doing here so early?”
“It was you who asked me yesterday to have the report ready by morning!” Miss Haley was indignant. “I had no time last night. I woke up early and came in. Who knew the Marten would be here?!"”
“It was hard to see it coming,” Joshua shook his head.
“Are you going to call the police?” Emeline asked.
“What's the use? The Marten's gone, nothing's missing. They'll say the kids broke in and vandalised the house. It's useless.”
“So that's it...” the Oscuro twins looked at each other.
“Okay, let's get out of here. I have to explain to the insurance company. It's a good thing nothing's missing...”
Armando and Julia sat down in the hall opposite the empty frame. Emeline, on the other hand, hid in the third floor alcove next to Clark's office, awaiting the insurance agent's arrival and developments.
“Thanks for not turning me in,” the woman thanked the special agent and placed a hand on his forearm. “May I ask why?”
“I don't know,” the young man said. “Consider that in this case, too, you listened to your intuition.”
“You asked about the figurines over there,” Julia nodded. “What do you want that for?”
“I can't talk about it,” Armando smiled.
“My intermediary sold them to a powerful man. A young man named Raoul was acting on his behalf,” Julia whispered in Armando's ear.
“And why am I not surprised?” nodded the special agent and turned his head towards the beautiful woman. The art stealer was so close. Armando remembered how strong and trained her body was. Moreover, her smooth skin. The woman's hot breath burned his face. Armando wanted to kiss Julia's lips passionately. Miss Haley followed his gaze and licked her lips with a smile. Armando felt dizzy. He reached for the woman, but stopped abruptly halfway, remembering his mentor's words. Armando's mentor at the beginning of his career was a very wise man who had been through a lot of trouble. It was then that he said a phrase that is imprinted in the memory of the very young trainee:
“Do not have an affair at work: neither with colleagues, nor with wards, nor with investigated persons. In all three cases, the affair will be a nuisance,” he said.
The mentor's words that popped into his head had sobered Special Agent Oscuro up a bit, and he was about to move away from Julia a little. He did not want to spoil his relationship with her, but it was unbearable to sit next to her, and she put her hand on his forearm and whispered something in his ear. Armando had never been so happy to see his sister, but Emeline looked very worried.
“We've got to get out of here, lovebirds,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “And when I say "urgently", I mean right now!”
With a quick step, almost sprinting, Emeline headed for the stairs. Armando and Julia followed her.
“Julia, can you help?” Tessa asked the woman, but Emeline stopped her with a gesture.
“She can, but later. We’re in a hurry!”
When they got outside, Emeline broke into a run. Armando and Julia could barely keep up with her. As she ran, the young man unlocked the alarm of an old, dark blue Takuro Borealis sedan. Armando jumped behind the wheel, his sister got into the passenger seat and Julia got in the back.
“Go, go, go, go!” Emeline twirled her finger in the air. There was no need to ask twice, and the car sped off. Julia felt herself slammed into the seat by the sudden acceleration. The car definitely had a boosted engine.
“What happened?” Armando asked as they picked up speed.
“The insurance man is here. Do you know who it was?!”
“I didn't see him.”
“Yeah, well, you were busy snogging blonde. You're drawn to them like a magnet,” Emeline snorted. “And it turned out to be Michael Silver.”
“Miguel Silva?!” Armando marvelled.
“That's the one. And Lucio Rodriguez was with him. They had a conversation with Joshua Clark in the study that I overheard.”
“Who are they?” Julia asked.
“Are there really people left who don't know who they are? Happy people. You talked about the inventory when everything was normal. Did you sign the report?”
“I did.”
“That's why they wanted to pin it on you. Bad Julia Haley screwed poor Joshua. Oh, she's the White Marten, too?! Oh, how awful! There's a snake on your chest, Josh! Get her! Did you know they were waiting for you on the way out? They wanted to take you with "Warrior" in your beautiful arms. It doesn't matter that it was a copy. Be sure, at the police station would have swapped it for the original.”
Julia went cold.
“And do what?”
Emeline ignored the question.
“Mando, Miguel also asked about you and me. They won't be looking for us specifically, but if we happen to turn up, we're dead.”
“Are you suggesting we leave Julia?“
“I didn't say that. We need to pull back anyway. With or without her, it doesn't matter. If it wasn't for Moreau, we might have proof Joshua was involved.”
“You are an optimist, sis. I do not think he keeps that kind of paperwork in his office. Besides, it would take months to sort through them.”
“That's true. Anyway, let's get to Dawnport and see where we go from there. I hope you don't have much in the way of personal effects.”
“I sent them by postal delivery yesterday.”
“Where to?” Emeline asked.
“To Fairgrave,” the blonde said, embarrassed. “I have a safe house there.”
“You think, no one would look for you in that hole? Oh, yes, they would. Miguel and Joshua are interested in you. And where there's Miguel, there's Joachim.”
“Joachim?” Julia asked and froze. “Please tell me it's not Lewis! It's not Lewis, right?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but it was Joachim Lewis the Third himself. Famous businessman, philanthropist and just a nice person. You'll steal everything for him, and when you're no longer profitable... They'll find somewhere else to put you.”
“Armando, please tell me she's joking!” Julia looked scared.
“She is no kidding,” sighed the young man, driving the old car down the motorway with confidence. “Besides, you have worked with Joachim before. Shall I tell you when?”
“Figurines, huh?” the woman wilted.
“Clever girl.”
“Tell me, just be honest. What are my chances of getting out of this mess? I was hoping this case would be my last. I put everything on the line, and it looks like I lost.”
“I don't know, to be honest. Depends on whether we can get to Dawnport or not. If we do, the odds go up, if we do not... I do not know. Too many factors, most of which are highly likely to be unaccounted for.”
***
Almost at sunset, three people - two women and a man - came into the cafeteria at one of the truck stops where the truckers usually slept. All three of them looked exhausted, as if they had travelled a long way without stopping, which they had. Placing their Takuro in an inconspicuous corner, they decided to have lunch after all. There was little chance of being caught up with them.
While the women were seated at a corner table, the young man went to the bar and ordered. A tipsy group of suspicious men decided to get acquainted with the pretty ladies and two of them approached their table. At that moment, the man who had withdrawn returned to his companions.
“Gentlemen, is there a problem?” Armando asked, approaching the men from behind. They turned round and met with cold brown eyes.
“Nothing's wrong, dude. It's just that we decided to meet some charming ladies!” one of the men raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.
“They're busy. I dare not detain you, gentlemen.”
The men left, looking back at him.
“They're strange,” Emeline glanced at the men.
“I couldn't agree more.”
“What did they want?” Armando asked.
“They seemed drunk, but there was no smell of alcohol. They offered to join them at the table,” Emeline explained.
“Did you notice the look in their eyes? They weren't looking at our bodies, they were looking back at our faces… My face,” Julia shuddered. “They looked at us as if we were at passport control in airport.”
“All right, girls, I hope you do not mind that I ordered lunch to go. In the meantime, I suggest we sit outside...”
Julia nodded in agreement. The three of them went to the car park and got into the Takuro.
“I cannot take it anymore,” Armando rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He was about to use the cigarette lighter, but Emeline snatched the cigarette out of his brother's hands with a deft movement of her hand.
“Dad would kill you if he knew you were smoking again,” she shook her head.
“He won't find out,” Armando smiled. The cigarette slipped out of Emeline's fingers with a deft movement of young man's hand.
“He will know,” the object of the argument was back in the smiling girl's hands, but here it was again in the Armando's.
“How?”
“I'll tell him!”
Julia realised that the twins played this game all the time. They were too pleased with their little prank. The twins' smiles were genuine and Julia's gloomy thoughts even briefly receded into the background. She wondered which one of them would give up first.
“I will go get our order,” Armando gave up, glancing at the scoreboard. When he got out of the car, he ostentatiously pulled another one cigarette out of his breast pocket and winked at Julia.
“You sly arse!” Emeline laughed.
Armando walked off into the cafeteria building. A cheerful, full-figured waitress placed several containers in a bag and handed over three paper coffee cups, which she placed in a holder. Armando thanked the woman heartily when he heard a noise from the car park. He rushed outside and saw a grey coloured van rapidly moving away. He flew up to his car and saw that someone had slashed all of its tyres and the passenger doors were open. The young man gritted his teeth and clenched his fists to the point of pain before turning around and tearing into the cafeteria.
“Bureau of Special Investigations! Special Agent Oscuro! Security cameras! Now!” he shouted to the waitress, grabbing his badge. Armando turned to the tipsy group in the corner and was very surprised not to see them. “Where are they?”
“They left right after you,” the woman said. “Come into the back room and I'll show you the cameras.”
***
“You sly arse!” Emeline laughed and looked away from her brother. She saw the young man put the cigarette back in his pocket.
“Was it a therapy session?” Julia asked.
“Sort of. Our work is stressful, so we have to find different ways to distract ourselves from our problems. Alas, alcohol doesn't usually help.”
“What do you do?” the woman marvelled.
“We work with bad guys,” Emeline shook her head, shutting herself off and making it clear that it would be better not to ask about it. Julia realised that she was on shaky ground and decided to change the subject, but she did not have time to ask anything else because Emeline suddenly turned around and looked out the rear window.
“What the hell is that!”
Just behind Takuro, an old Storm van in dark grey with the emblem of a well-known electrical equipment supply company stopped. What happened next happened too quickly. Two men in ski masks came from around the corner of the cafeteria and threw open the doors, dragging Julia and Emeline out into the street. They tried to fight back, but it was too sudden. They were both thrown to the ground and their hands were tied behind their backs with plastic handcuffs before being dragged into the van, unceremoniously dumped on the metal floor. The van's door slammed shut and it drove off.
As the van picked up speed, the masked kidnappers bent over the captives. Their mouths were taped shut with cleave gags and their ankles were tied to their wrists, made them hogtied. Not a pleasant position, especially in moving traffic. After that, the men got into the seat and buckled themselves in. They kept their eyes on the captives the whole way.
***
Armando fast-forwarded through the last fifteen minutes leading up to the kidnapping. There was the van pulling into the car park and getting close to Takuro. Here he and Meli and Julia get out and walk to the their car. There's a drunken group of people coming out of the cafeteria, but contrary to expectation, they're heading in the opposite direction. They get into an old pickup truck and drive off. Armando goes to get food, and then two men get out of the van and sneak into the shadows somewhere behind the cafeteria.
A lightning attack - with the van blocking the exit, the two from the shadows pull Emeline and Julia outside, tie their hands together with something and shove them into the van. One quickly slashes the tyres on the Takuro and jumps into the van. The door slams shut and the dark grey van drives off. The licence plate is smudged with mud, but Armando can make out the emblem of a well-known electrical installation company.
“Thank you,” he rubbed his temples and ran to the car. Alas, the car was a rental, so there was nothing useful in it except the business suits he and his sister wore in the gallery and Emeline's bag, which contained a lot of little things, but not even a hint of a gun or a walkie-talkie. Armando walked briskly, almost marching, back to the cafeteria.
“What happened in there?” the waitress asked.
“My companions have been kidnapped,” Armando said grimly.
“Is it these ones? I didn't like them right away!”
“No, it looks like the others. In a grey van, with electrical installation company logo.”
“Then it's the Smallwood gang,” the woman said confidently. “They'll send a ransom note to the family in a couple of weeks.”
“And if they do not have any relatives or rich friends?”
“Then they'll either stay in the commune as wives of one of the gang, or…” The woman didn't finish, but Armando understood her.
“How far is Smallwood from here?”
“Fifty miles.”
“And you say that so calmly?” Armando was surprised.
“They don't do lawlessness. Everyone who was afraid of them has long since left our district.”
Armando sat down in front of the bar, where his order was cooling. He took one of the coffee cups and drained it in two gulps, grimacing with bitterness. As his mentor used to say, "better bitterness in the mouth than bitterness in the soul." The bitterness in his soul made the young man take a second cup. Vanilla latte, Emeline's favourite coffee.
“Is there a phone in here?”
The woman silently lifted an old machine from behind the counter and Armando pulled out his wallet, which contained business cards. He pulled one out and stared at it for a few seconds in indecision. Taking a sip of his latte, he picked it up. It was a risk, but who doesn't take risks doesn't drink champagne. There were too few people he knew in this town to rush out and help. Taking a deep breath in and out, he dialled a number.
***
Emeline and Julia were lying on the floor of the van, bumping all over the body at every bump and turn. Their captors were only amused by the spectacle. The black-haired girl had no doubt that the two were digging their grave deeper. In fact, she and Julia hadn't even been searched, which meant they were amateurs who had probably been hired by their pursuers for a one-time job. What it would have cost them to email a photo from Julia's personnel file labelled "pick up and deliver". And Emeline was probably caught in the act, but that was even better. The thief didn't have the chances and the opportunities that the special agent had, and the discomfort and distress Meli could endure. They all could, in their Seventeenth Rescue Squad.
From the moment Emeline had been pushed into the van, she had been counting down the seconds and memorising the turns so she had an estimate of where she was. If only she and Julia could talk back and forth, it would be easier. She only hoped Julia was also counting turns, and from the look on the woman's face, that was exactly what she was doing, but Emeline didn't want to take any chances.
“Our guests are too quiet,” one of the kidnappers said in a low, accented voice. “We should cheer them up! Hey, young one, poke the black-haired one, let her twitch.”
He picked up a long stick and was just about to poke Emeline in the side, but she gave him a look of humiliation that promised all the punishments of heaven. A cold sweat broke over him. No, she was not a broken prisoner thinking about escaping home or getting to the police. She was a predator who was thinking of the most painful and time-consuming way to destroy them.
When Emeline counted one hour and eighteen minutes, the van stopped. The doors opened and she and Julia were dragged out, dumped unceremoniously on the ground. Emeline looked around and saw that she was in a very small village, where people in different, but equally dirty, clothes were wandering around. A young girl of about eighteen, with red hair braided in a ponytail, came up to them and looked at both prisoners.
“Take them to the eighteenth,” she said to the kidnappers, who untied Julia's and Emeline's legs and then jerked them to their feet. Pushed by the pistols, the girl and the woman walked through the camp of some bandits. Dressed as they were, but invariably armed. There were hostages among them. Emeline saw several tired men assembling blockhouse, followed by several armed types.
The black-haired girl and the blonde woman were taken to a brick house, but with two beams supporting the roof. The captives were brought up to these beams and remove handcuffs. The gags, much to Emeline's regret, had been left in place, and she was itching to speak her mind.
“Take off your clothes,” one of the men ordered, pointing a gun at the captives. “Now!”
“Mwgheh m shwngh ghnshe phrr ywhrr, mshmmhe?” Emeline moaned through her gag and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.
“If we tell you to dance, then you'll dance, but now shut up and get undressed, stupid girl!” the man said angrily and flicked the safety of his gun and Emeline, her eyes flashing angrily, reached for the bottom of her turtleneck. In one motion she pulled it off, leaving her in a thin tank top.
Julia saw the ugly, jagged scars that covered the girl's slender body - on her sides, her back, her stomach. The kidnappers froze. This was something they certainly had not expected to see. It seemed that a wild beast with sharp fangs and claws tried to tore the girl apart. In addition, everyone saw a long thin scar on her neck, as if she had been strangled. In addition, when she finally took off her tank top, they noticed another scar completely crossing her left breast just below the nipple. She also had a strange tattoo, a heptagon inscribed in a circle, with curved lines coming out of each vertex, wrapping around her body on both sides and converging at a single point just above and to the right of her navel.
After waiting a few seconds and waiting for the gesture, Emeline reached for her trousers. With a zip and undoing the belt and button, the girl threw them off, leaving her in a simple pair of navy blue panties. One of the kidnappers wanted to make her take them off, but the other shook his head.
“That's enough. Now it's your turn,” he shifted his gaze to Julia. The blonde had taken off her off-shoulder T-shirt and the tight tights from her White Marten costume. She had a much more appetising figure than Emeline, plus her body wasn't marred by ugly scars and equally ugly tattoos. Emeline was led over to one of the pillars and forced to put her back against it. Luckily for her, the surface of the pillars was fairly smooth. It was clear that prisoners were tied to them on a regular basis. Emeline's hands were placed behind the pillar and her wrists were tied tightly with hemp rope that cut painfully into her hands. While one of the men took care of her hands, the other took care of her legs. With the same rope, he tied the girl's legs at the ankles, several coils at the shins and thighs, and then he put the loose ends behind the post and there tied them in tight knots. Julia found herself left to herself and slowly began to back herself into a corner. She saw a small sharp stone and took it in her fist so that she could free herself. Her manoeuvre did not escape Emeline, who nodded faintly in approval. Emeline's torso was pulled to the beam in several places - a noose around her stomach, and just above and lower of her breasts. The same loops pulled her shoulders and forearms to the pole. The girl could not move an inch away from the beam. After this, the kidnappers took Julia. In general, the method was not much different from the one used on Emeline, but the ropes were longer and there were more of them. It was understandable, Julia was of stronger build, and her muscles were better developed. When the kidnappers had finished with the captives, they switched off the lights and left the cabin, shutting the door. The captives could see each other, but only as silhouettes at the edge of visibility. Julia was about to saw the ropes, but Emeline shook her head in denial.
“Ghn'ht ghn nth! Lthmr!” the black-haired girl moaned through gag.
Julia did not understand her cellmate.
“Whht?”
“Thnn nhhrly! Nhhr–ly!” Emeline moaned slowly, syllabically. Julia nodded. Emeline's confidence was reassuring to the woman. She had already realised that the twins had been in all sorts of trouble and were unlike most people she knew, even thieves. Julia waited for the girl to give the go-ahead. Emeline closed her eyes as if listening to something. Julia asked questions impatiently several times, but Oscuro kept shaking her head. At one point, she nodded confidently, and Julia began sawing the rope around her wrists.
“Shthp!” Emeline warned, and Julia froze, hiding the stone in her fist. A man peered into the house, shone a light on the captives, and stepped out. Emeline signalled for Julia to continue. Soon, the ropes around Julia's wrists loosened and fell to the floor. Then, twisting, she began to saw through the rope that held her stomach and forearms down. It took much longer. It took almost an hour to free her breasts, but by late night, Julia was free. She quietly walked over to Emeline and began to free her. In some places, it was easier to untie the knot, but in some places, she had to cut the rope. Finally, when Emeline was free, she pulled off the gag and began to rub wrists quickly. All the clothes that had been taken off the prisoners were dragged away. Before opening the door, Emeline sat down and listened.
“Let's get out of here,” she whispered to Julia, and opened the door. They both ducked out of the house and walked quickly hiding behind it. They climbed over the fence and moved toward the wooded area. There they took cover behind the trees.
“We're not going to look for clothes?”
“Definitely not here. I'm sure all our clothes have been taken home to wives and daughters. Have you seen how this gang lives?”
“You don't have to explain. I hear you. What's the plan, Special Agent Oscuro?”
“Right now, we circle this camp in a wide arc and head back. Can you walk barefoot?”
“I'm not sure,” Julia said after a moment's thought.
“We'll think of something then, but right now we'd better move away. I didn't hear any dogs, but that doesn't mean there aren't any. And they could be searching the woods... And here's the solution to your problem, by the way...”
Emeline pointed to the red-haired girl who was walking, armed, along the outer perimeter of the camp. She pointed to the eighteenth cabin, where the prisoners were hidden. Emeline, treading quietly descended lower. When the girl passed her, she jumped on her from behind and squeezed her throat until she lost consciousness. After that, the black-haired girl dragged her into the bushes and further into the woods. There she searched the girl and found plastic handcuffs in her pocket. She briefly pulled off girl's T-shirt, shorts and sandals. She tossed the T-shirt and sandals to Julia and kept the shorts for herself. She put the girl's hands behind the trunk of a thick tree and cuffed them. Julia had already pulled on the T-shirt, which was too small. The sandals were slightly larger than needed. Emeline pulled on her shorts, wishing the girl had another t-shirt. Tucking her gun into the waistband of her shorts, the two former captives went deeper into the woods.
Rose Montgomery, an elderly woman, was in her fifth year as the caretaker of the private gallery of Joshua Clark, a well-known banker. The job was not difficult - she came to the gallery every morning, inspected the exhibition and checked the order in the halls, and then waited for the cleaning company to come to remove dirt and rubbish. Moreover, if any of the exhibits were damaged, she would call in the restorers so that they could assess the extent of the damage.
On that morning, Mrs Montgomery arrived at work as usual. Opening the main entrance with her key, she was not surprised at the absence of guards at the post. She did not go into the guardroom, since the guards could simply fall asleep, and the woman always felt sorry for them. Instead, Rose took the wide, straight staircase up to the first floor, where the exhibit was located. She walked through several small themed rooms and saw that the door to the main exhibit was ajar.
Mrs. Montgomery pushed the door open, and the first thing she saw was the absence of the jewel of the collection, the painting "The Eternal Warrior" that hung directly opposite the entrance. Grasping at her pounding heart, the woman took a few steps inside when she heard a woman's muffled voice.
“Hmwn! Whghh hmrw!”
The woman's voice was echoed by a man's, bassy but also muffled too.
“Wmh mnn nn mmhn mhwn!”
Rose turned towards the voices and was horrified. On the floor was a broken statue of the little cherub she had once christened "Johnny" because he resembled an old acquaintance of hers, a nickname later adopted by everyone, even Mr Clark himself. Johnny's head was chopped off, but he was in one piece. His pedestal, however, was occupied by an entirely different and spicier composition. Two young people, a black-haired man and a blonde-haired woman, were sitting back to back on the pedestal. The situation was unusual in that they were both bound and gagged, and the woman was topless. As Mrs. Montgomery looked closer, she shook her hands when she recognised the woman.
“Miss Haley! Julia! What monster did this to you?!” the woman wailed as she approached the prisoners. She also recognised the young man on close inspection - Special Agent Armando Oscuro of the Bureau of Special Investigation.
Art historian Julia Haley was annoyed at the sight. Mrs. Montgomery quickly went to a back room and brought from there a pair of scissors with which she tried to cut the thick ropes, to the suppressed moans of the captives.
“Msh thw ghnph!” Armando moaned through the gag, rolling his eyes in impatience. It was only after the third or fourth suggestion from both of them that Rose realised she had to remove the gags first.
“Use the knife,” the young man wheezed and coughed. His throat ached.
“And bring us a drink,” Julia asked.
“Of course, my dears! Wait a minute!”
Two minutes later, when the ropes were cut and the captives had drunk one bottle of water for two, Rose Montgomery calmed down.
“Who did this to you?! And where are the guards!”
Armando slapped his forehead, and Julia froze fearfully. She remembered that she had used the restraints over the necks the day before to keep the prisoners from escaping. She had intended to remove them before she left, but she never got away. Armando ran towards the guardroom, and Julia awkwardly covered her breasts.
“Who did this to you?”
“A burglar broke into the gallery. He attacked Mr Oscuro and me…”
“How awful! He stole the painting!”
“It's not stolen, just ruined,” Julia took the canvas and unfolded it. The paint was chipped in places, but it smelled faintly of solvent. She held the canvas up to her eyes and realised that Thomas Moreau had been right. The painting was a forgery, and a crude one at that. She was willing to bet on her head that two days ago the painting had been real.
***
Armando ran down to the ground floor, jumping up the steps and running to the guardroom. The door was locked, but he didn't want to go back to Julia. After assessing the door, he tried it on and hit it with his shoulder. The door bent with a thud, and his shoulder ached. The Special Agent stepped back and, sprinting, struck again. The door yielded a third time. The hinges flew forward, and the lock was surprisingly strong. The first thing Armando smelled was the disgusting odour of dirty socks. Given that the window was closed and the room was hot, the strong odour made his eyes water.
The three hostages were sitting in their chairs, their faces pale, and one of them, a young boy, was on the verge of fainting. The arms of all three of them were tied behind the back of the chair with rope, their torsos were pulled to the same back by several skeins passed between the spokes, which meant that it was impossible to stand up if they wanted to. The bound legs were raised and fastened to the crossbar under the seat with a rope. Not all of them, however, Emeline had managed to break the rope and was now using her fingertips to keep the young guard's chair from falling over. Apparently the prisoners had tried to move with their chairs during the night and the boy's chair had tilted dangerously. Armando remembered his name - Jake. If it hadn't been for Emeline, he might well have suffocated because of the restraint around his neck. Emeline and the adult guard had the exact same restraints. The adult guard, however, was sweetly sleeping. The source of the odour was also quickly revealed - the guard's boots were lying a little ways away. He must have dropped them in his attempts to free himself.
Armando caught his sister's gaze, which promised to bring down all imaginable punishments on his head. The young man walked over and put the guard's chair in a stable position. Then he reached the window and swung it open. He then removed the restraints from the necks of all three of them and removed the gags from the mouths of the sister and the young guard.
“Where have you been all night?!” Emeline hissed. “You were supposed to disarm Marten and come here!”
“I did. Only another burglar came in and gave me a spider poison dart, and then you see,” Armando said quietly, holding out his hand to his sister, which still had rope marks on it, and then adding, lowering his voice even more, “Mrs. Montgomery came and freed us.”
“Us?” Emeline's eyes squinted dangerously. “Who was that with you?”
“The art historian, Miss Haley,” Armando replied indifferently, cutting the ropes holding his sister's torso to the chair. Emeline was already rubbing her aching wrists. Soon, she was free and stood on her stiff legs, nearly falling over. Armando picked her sister up and helped her to sit on the chair. The girl bent over and began to rub her feet. Armando, meanwhile, approached the adult guard. The young man did not want to get close to his feet, so he simply cut the ropes around his wrists and body and slapped him on the head. The man jumped up. Armando shoved a knife from the table into his hand and released Jake.
“Thank you, Emeline, you saved my life!”
“I'll send you the bill, Jake,” she laughed over her shoulder and turned to the second guard. “And you, freak, wash your stinking feet more often!”
“Rob, I respect you, but Emeline's right.”
“Fuck you sissies! You're the reason I couldn't catch Marten!”
Emeline didn't listen to the guards' bickering and walked briskly out of the guard room. The first thing she did was to go outside and breathe in.
“Where is that bitch?” the girl asked.
“In the main hall...fuck!” Armando turned around and walked back quickly. He was sure that Julia had already escaped and what was his surprise when the woman found herself near the painting "The Sorcerer's Doll" by the little known artist Lazarus Moretti. She was already wearing a T-shirt two sizes larger. Hearing footsteps, the woman turned around and looked at Armando.
“The most valuable exhibits are fakes. Did you know that?”
Armando shook his head, but breathed a sigh of relief. Julia had not escaped, so there was still room for political manoeuvring.
“Two days ago everything was in order, and the originals were here. Do you realise what that means?”
“I guess,” the young man replied, barely catching the furious meteor that flew into the room.
“Let me go, Mando, I'll scratch that bitch's eyes out,” Emelin hissed. “And for safety violations! And for chemical weapons! And for having her hands all over me!”
“Meli,” Armando pulled his sister to him, hugged her tightly and kept her away from Julia. “You'll kick her ass, but later. There is something strange going on here that we have to figure out before we leave.”
“What do you mean?” The girl asked, turning her head.
“Miss Haley, is what you just said true?”
“Exactly. The inventory was taken three days ago and everything was in order then. And today, the most valuable paintings here are forgeries, and they're crude,” Julia sank down on the bench tiredly and looked up at the black-haired girl. “Miss Oscuro, my apologies. I was in distress too. Are the guards all right?”
“One of them almost went to the Valley of the Shadow of Death because of his own clumsiness,” Emeline said menacingly, causing the blonde woman to turn pale. ”Thank goodness the rope between the rung and my legs had snapped and I'd been able to keep him from falling.”
“I owe you one,” Julia mumbled through her lips.
“I'm sure you do. Armando, what do you think you're going to do?” Emeline looked at her brother.
“Now, girls, we're going up to Miss Haley's study. There, she will brew us all three some strong coffee, we will rob Tessa's fridge for some scones and have some breakfast. Then we will think on a full stomach!”
“Let's go,” Julia nodded and led the special agents into the office she shared with the three girls.
***
“So, what do we have in the end?” Armando said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair with a cup of strong coffee in his hands. “There was a breach in the security system the size of a football field. Two burglars got into the gallery independently of each other.”
“And two special agents,” Julia observed. “Also odd. What were you investigating here?”
“A covert investigation,” Emelina snorted.
“Our reasons for being here have nothing to do with the artworks,” Armando shook his head. “Were you hired to steal the Eternal Warrior?”
“No one hired me,” Julia grinned smugly. “I'm on my own.”
“Good thing you weren't. I placed an order on the Bright Exchange.”
“Yeah, that's the one. Okay, stop. How do you know about the exchange?!”
Armando ignored her question.
“How long was the order on hold?”
“Long. Six months.”
“What is changed in the last few days?”
“I started my apprenticeship. I got a job here and...”
Before Julia could finish, the door swung open and Tessa, a chubby redhead in her mid-twenties, walked into the office.
“Julia! Are you okay?! Mrs. Montgomery told us the worst. And Jake and Robert say we've had a visit from the White Marten herself. What's she like?”
“She's a bitch,” Emeline said instead of Julia, grinning. “She's unprincipled and arrogant, and she doesn't follow safety procedures.”
Julia glared angrily at the girl, but she held her gaze with dignity.
“The White Marten is very strong,” Armando said, interrupting his sister. “I am not new to martial arts, Meli and I had excellent teachers, but I did not always realize whether she was striking with her arm or her leg. Anyway, she kicked me. I lay there, beaten like a dog, tied up. Thinking of eternal things while the robbery was going on. Miss Haley came into the gallery early in the morning, saw me and decided to help. She did not have to look round and run away and call the police…” The young man waved his hand doomfully. “Against Marten, she did not had a chance. She flew up, twisted Julia and laid her down next to me. Then she decided to have some fun.”
“Wow!” Tessa was surprised. “I wouldn't want to get in her way.”
“You are right. If you see robbers, you should run and call the police, that way you will stay in one piece. Is Mister Clark here yet?”
“I saw him get out of the car.”
“Then we will go see him.”
On the way, Armando whispered to his companions.
“Not a word about the forgeries or the second robber. I will solo, Meli will help me, Julia, and you have the hardest job of all: blushing and embarrassing yourself.”
***
Joshua Clark was shouting, spitting and waving his arms around in his office. The three conspirators stood on the threshold, listening to a second round of swearing. Fortunately, Joshua's anger was directed at the White Marten.
“What kind of person is she? When she's not stealing, she's sure to ruin everything! To crumple up such a masterpiece and throw it on the floor!” resented the banker. “And why did she spoil our Johnny?”
“It did not seem to be badly hurt,” said Armando, who was tired of hearing the same thing. “Just put some glue on its head and put it back in place. A little plaster and you are done.”
“You're a restorer? I don't understand, if you're here, how did Marten get here?!”
“I am no restorer, but I have had to glue statues together. We underestimated the White Marten's capabilities. If we had not been there, she would steal half the gallery,” Armando smiled, but Joshua did not recognise the ambiguity of the phrase.
“Yes. And you, Julia, what were you doing here so early?”
“It was you who asked me yesterday to have the report ready by morning!” Miss Haley was indignant. “I had no time last night. I woke up early and came in. Who knew the Marten would be here?!"”
“It was hard to see it coming,” Joshua shook his head.
“Are you going to call the police?” Emeline asked.
“What's the use? The Marten's gone, nothing's missing. They'll say the kids broke in and vandalised the house. It's useless.”
“So that's it...” the Oscuro twins looked at each other.
“Okay, let's get out of here. I have to explain to the insurance company. It's a good thing nothing's missing...”
Armando and Julia sat down in the hall opposite the empty frame. Emeline, on the other hand, hid in the third floor alcove next to Clark's office, awaiting the insurance agent's arrival and developments.
“Thanks for not turning me in,” the woman thanked the special agent and placed a hand on his forearm. “May I ask why?”
“I don't know,” the young man said. “Consider that in this case, too, you listened to your intuition.”
“You asked about the figurines over there,” Julia nodded. “What do you want that for?”
“I can't talk about it,” Armando smiled.
“My intermediary sold them to a powerful man. A young man named Raoul was acting on his behalf,” Julia whispered in Armando's ear.
“And why am I not surprised?” nodded the special agent and turned his head towards the beautiful woman. The art stealer was so close. Armando remembered how strong and trained her body was. Moreover, her smooth skin. The woman's hot breath burned his face. Armando wanted to kiss Julia's lips passionately. Miss Haley followed his gaze and licked her lips with a smile. Armando felt dizzy. He reached for the woman, but stopped abruptly halfway, remembering his mentor's words. Armando's mentor at the beginning of his career was a very wise man who had been through a lot of trouble. It was then that he said a phrase that is imprinted in the memory of the very young trainee:
“Do not have an affair at work: neither with colleagues, nor with wards, nor with investigated persons. In all three cases, the affair will be a nuisance,” he said.
The mentor's words that popped into his head had sobered Special Agent Oscuro up a bit, and he was about to move away from Julia a little. He did not want to spoil his relationship with her, but it was unbearable to sit next to her, and she put her hand on his forearm and whispered something in his ear. Armando had never been so happy to see his sister, but Emeline looked very worried.
“We've got to get out of here, lovebirds,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “And when I say "urgently", I mean right now!”
With a quick step, almost sprinting, Emeline headed for the stairs. Armando and Julia followed her.
“Julia, can you help?” Tessa asked the woman, but Emeline stopped her with a gesture.
“She can, but later. We’re in a hurry!”
When they got outside, Emeline broke into a run. Armando and Julia could barely keep up with her. As she ran, the young man unlocked the alarm of an old, dark blue Takuro Borealis sedan. Armando jumped behind the wheel, his sister got into the passenger seat and Julia got in the back.
“Go, go, go, go!” Emeline twirled her finger in the air. There was no need to ask twice, and the car sped off. Julia felt herself slammed into the seat by the sudden acceleration. The car definitely had a boosted engine.
“What happened?” Armando asked as they picked up speed.
“The insurance man is here. Do you know who it was?!”
“I didn't see him.”
“Yeah, well, you were busy snogging blonde. You're drawn to them like a magnet,” Emeline snorted. “And it turned out to be Michael Silver.”
“Miguel Silva?!” Armando marvelled.
“That's the one. And Lucio Rodriguez was with him. They had a conversation with Joshua Clark in the study that I overheard.”
“Who are they?” Julia asked.
“Are there really people left who don't know who they are? Happy people. You talked about the inventory when everything was normal. Did you sign the report?”
“I did.”
“That's why they wanted to pin it on you. Bad Julia Haley screwed poor Joshua. Oh, she's the White Marten, too?! Oh, how awful! There's a snake on your chest, Josh! Get her! Did you know they were waiting for you on the way out? They wanted to take you with "Warrior" in your beautiful arms. It doesn't matter that it was a copy. Be sure, at the police station would have swapped it for the original.”
Julia went cold.
“And do what?”
Emeline ignored the question.
“Mando, Miguel also asked about you and me. They won't be looking for us specifically, but if we happen to turn up, we're dead.”
“Are you suggesting we leave Julia?“
“I didn't say that. We need to pull back anyway. With or without her, it doesn't matter. If it wasn't for Moreau, we might have proof Joshua was involved.”
“You are an optimist, sis. I do not think he keeps that kind of paperwork in his office. Besides, it would take months to sort through them.”
“That's true. Anyway, let's get to Dawnport and see where we go from there. I hope you don't have much in the way of personal effects.”
“I sent them by postal delivery yesterday.”
“Where to?” Emeline asked.
“To Fairgrave,” the blonde said, embarrassed. “I have a safe house there.”
“You think, no one would look for you in that hole? Oh, yes, they would. Miguel and Joshua are interested in you. And where there's Miguel, there's Joachim.”
“Joachim?” Julia asked and froze. “Please tell me it's not Lewis! It's not Lewis, right?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but it was Joachim Lewis the Third himself. Famous businessman, philanthropist and just a nice person. You'll steal everything for him, and when you're no longer profitable... They'll find somewhere else to put you.”
“Armando, please tell me she's joking!” Julia looked scared.
“She is no kidding,” sighed the young man, driving the old car down the motorway with confidence. “Besides, you have worked with Joachim before. Shall I tell you when?”
“Figurines, huh?” the woman wilted.
“Clever girl.”
“Tell me, just be honest. What are my chances of getting out of this mess? I was hoping this case would be my last. I put everything on the line, and it looks like I lost.”
“I don't know, to be honest. Depends on whether we can get to Dawnport or not. If we do, the odds go up, if we do not... I do not know. Too many factors, most of which are highly likely to be unaccounted for.”
***
Almost at sunset, three people - two women and a man - came into the cafeteria at one of the truck stops where the truckers usually slept. All three of them looked exhausted, as if they had travelled a long way without stopping, which they had. Placing their Takuro in an inconspicuous corner, they decided to have lunch after all. There was little chance of being caught up with them.
While the women were seated at a corner table, the young man went to the bar and ordered. A tipsy group of suspicious men decided to get acquainted with the pretty ladies and two of them approached their table. At that moment, the man who had withdrawn returned to his companions.
“Gentlemen, is there a problem?” Armando asked, approaching the men from behind. They turned round and met with cold brown eyes.
“Nothing's wrong, dude. It's just that we decided to meet some charming ladies!” one of the men raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.
“They're busy. I dare not detain you, gentlemen.”
The men left, looking back at him.
“They're strange,” Emeline glanced at the men.
“I couldn't agree more.”
“What did they want?” Armando asked.
“They seemed drunk, but there was no smell of alcohol. They offered to join them at the table,” Emeline explained.
“Did you notice the look in their eyes? They weren't looking at our bodies, they were looking back at our faces… My face,” Julia shuddered. “They looked at us as if we were at passport control in airport.”
“All right, girls, I hope you do not mind that I ordered lunch to go. In the meantime, I suggest we sit outside...”
Julia nodded in agreement. The three of them went to the car park and got into the Takuro.
“I cannot take it anymore,” Armando rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He was about to use the cigarette lighter, but Emeline snatched the cigarette out of his brother's hands with a deft movement of her hand.
“Dad would kill you if he knew you were smoking again,” she shook her head.
“He won't find out,” Armando smiled. The cigarette slipped out of Emeline's fingers with a deft movement of young man's hand.
“He will know,” the object of the argument was back in the smiling girl's hands, but here it was again in the Armando's.
“How?”
“I'll tell him!”
Julia realised that the twins played this game all the time. They were too pleased with their little prank. The twins' smiles were genuine and Julia's gloomy thoughts even briefly receded into the background. She wondered which one of them would give up first.
“I will go get our order,” Armando gave up, glancing at the scoreboard. When he got out of the car, he ostentatiously pulled another one cigarette out of his breast pocket and winked at Julia.
“You sly arse!” Emeline laughed.
Armando walked off into the cafeteria building. A cheerful, full-figured waitress placed several containers in a bag and handed over three paper coffee cups, which she placed in a holder. Armando thanked the woman heartily when he heard a noise from the car park. He rushed outside and saw a grey coloured van rapidly moving away. He flew up to his car and saw that someone had slashed all of its tyres and the passenger doors were open. The young man gritted his teeth and clenched his fists to the point of pain before turning around and tearing into the cafeteria.
“Bureau of Special Investigations! Special Agent Oscuro! Security cameras! Now!” he shouted to the waitress, grabbing his badge. Armando turned to the tipsy group in the corner and was very surprised not to see them. “Where are they?”
“They left right after you,” the woman said. “Come into the back room and I'll show you the cameras.”
***
“You sly arse!” Emeline laughed and looked away from her brother. She saw the young man put the cigarette back in his pocket.
“Was it a therapy session?” Julia asked.
“Sort of. Our work is stressful, so we have to find different ways to distract ourselves from our problems. Alas, alcohol doesn't usually help.”
“What do you do?” the woman marvelled.
“We work with bad guys,” Emeline shook her head, shutting herself off and making it clear that it would be better not to ask about it. Julia realised that she was on shaky ground and decided to change the subject, but she did not have time to ask anything else because Emeline suddenly turned around and looked out the rear window.
“What the hell is that!”
Just behind Takuro, an old Storm van in dark grey with the emblem of a well-known electrical equipment supply company stopped. What happened next happened too quickly. Two men in ski masks came from around the corner of the cafeteria and threw open the doors, dragging Julia and Emeline out into the street. They tried to fight back, but it was too sudden. They were both thrown to the ground and their hands were tied behind their backs with plastic handcuffs before being dragged into the van, unceremoniously dumped on the metal floor. The van's door slammed shut and it drove off.
As the van picked up speed, the masked kidnappers bent over the captives. Their mouths were taped shut with cleave gags and their ankles were tied to their wrists, made them hogtied. Not a pleasant position, especially in moving traffic. After that, the men got into the seat and buckled themselves in. They kept their eyes on the captives the whole way.
***
Armando fast-forwarded through the last fifteen minutes leading up to the kidnapping. There was the van pulling into the car park and getting close to Takuro. Here he and Meli and Julia get out and walk to the their car. There's a drunken group of people coming out of the cafeteria, but contrary to expectation, they're heading in the opposite direction. They get into an old pickup truck and drive off. Armando goes to get food, and then two men get out of the van and sneak into the shadows somewhere behind the cafeteria.
A lightning attack - with the van blocking the exit, the two from the shadows pull Emeline and Julia outside, tie their hands together with something and shove them into the van. One quickly slashes the tyres on the Takuro and jumps into the van. The door slams shut and the dark grey van drives off. The licence plate is smudged with mud, but Armando can make out the emblem of a well-known electrical installation company.
“Thank you,” he rubbed his temples and ran to the car. Alas, the car was a rental, so there was nothing useful in it except the business suits he and his sister wore in the gallery and Emeline's bag, which contained a lot of little things, but not even a hint of a gun or a walkie-talkie. Armando walked briskly, almost marching, back to the cafeteria.
“What happened in there?” the waitress asked.
“My companions have been kidnapped,” Armando said grimly.
“Is it these ones? I didn't like them right away!”
“No, it looks like the others. In a grey van, with electrical installation company logo.”
“Then it's the Smallwood gang,” the woman said confidently. “They'll send a ransom note to the family in a couple of weeks.”
“And if they do not have any relatives or rich friends?”
“Then they'll either stay in the commune as wives of one of the gang, or…” The woman didn't finish, but Armando understood her.
“How far is Smallwood from here?”
“Fifty miles.”
“And you say that so calmly?” Armando was surprised.
“They don't do lawlessness. Everyone who was afraid of them has long since left our district.”
Armando sat down in front of the bar, where his order was cooling. He took one of the coffee cups and drained it in two gulps, grimacing with bitterness. As his mentor used to say, "better bitterness in the mouth than bitterness in the soul." The bitterness in his soul made the young man take a second cup. Vanilla latte, Emeline's favourite coffee.
“Is there a phone in here?”
The woman silently lifted an old machine from behind the counter and Armando pulled out his wallet, which contained business cards. He pulled one out and stared at it for a few seconds in indecision. Taking a sip of his latte, he picked it up. It was a risk, but who doesn't take risks doesn't drink champagne. There were too few people he knew in this town to rush out and help. Taking a deep breath in and out, he dialled a number.
***
Emeline and Julia were lying on the floor of the van, bumping all over the body at every bump and turn. Their captors were only amused by the spectacle. The black-haired girl had no doubt that the two were digging their grave deeper. In fact, she and Julia hadn't even been searched, which meant they were amateurs who had probably been hired by their pursuers for a one-time job. What it would have cost them to email a photo from Julia's personnel file labelled "pick up and deliver". And Emeline was probably caught in the act, but that was even better. The thief didn't have the chances and the opportunities that the special agent had, and the discomfort and distress Meli could endure. They all could, in their Seventeenth Rescue Squad.
From the moment Emeline had been pushed into the van, she had been counting down the seconds and memorising the turns so she had an estimate of where she was. If only she and Julia could talk back and forth, it would be easier. She only hoped Julia was also counting turns, and from the look on the woman's face, that was exactly what she was doing, but Emeline didn't want to take any chances.
“Our guests are too quiet,” one of the kidnappers said in a low, accented voice. “We should cheer them up! Hey, young one, poke the black-haired one, let her twitch.”
He picked up a long stick and was just about to poke Emeline in the side, but she gave him a look of humiliation that promised all the punishments of heaven. A cold sweat broke over him. No, she was not a broken prisoner thinking about escaping home or getting to the police. She was a predator who was thinking of the most painful and time-consuming way to destroy them.
When Emeline counted one hour and eighteen minutes, the van stopped. The doors opened and she and Julia were dragged out, dumped unceremoniously on the ground. Emeline looked around and saw that she was in a very small village, where people in different, but equally dirty, clothes were wandering around. A young girl of about eighteen, with red hair braided in a ponytail, came up to them and looked at both prisoners.
“Take them to the eighteenth,” she said to the kidnappers, who untied Julia's and Emeline's legs and then jerked them to their feet. Pushed by the pistols, the girl and the woman walked through the camp of some bandits. Dressed as they were, but invariably armed. There were hostages among them. Emeline saw several tired men assembling blockhouse, followed by several armed types.
The black-haired girl and the blonde woman were taken to a brick house, but with two beams supporting the roof. The captives were brought up to these beams and remove handcuffs. The gags, much to Emeline's regret, had been left in place, and she was itching to speak her mind.
“Take off your clothes,” one of the men ordered, pointing a gun at the captives. “Now!”
“Mwgheh m shwngh ghnshe phrr ywhrr, mshmmhe?” Emeline moaned through her gag and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.
“If we tell you to dance, then you'll dance, but now shut up and get undressed, stupid girl!” the man said angrily and flicked the safety of his gun and Emeline, her eyes flashing angrily, reached for the bottom of her turtleneck. In one motion she pulled it off, leaving her in a thin tank top.
Julia saw the ugly, jagged scars that covered the girl's slender body - on her sides, her back, her stomach. The kidnappers froze. This was something they certainly had not expected to see. It seemed that a wild beast with sharp fangs and claws tried to tore the girl apart. In addition, everyone saw a long thin scar on her neck, as if she had been strangled. In addition, when she finally took off her tank top, they noticed another scar completely crossing her left breast just below the nipple. She also had a strange tattoo, a heptagon inscribed in a circle, with curved lines coming out of each vertex, wrapping around her body on both sides and converging at a single point just above and to the right of her navel.
After waiting a few seconds and waiting for the gesture, Emeline reached for her trousers. With a zip and undoing the belt and button, the girl threw them off, leaving her in a simple pair of navy blue panties. One of the kidnappers wanted to make her take them off, but the other shook his head.
“That's enough. Now it's your turn,” he shifted his gaze to Julia. The blonde had taken off her off-shoulder T-shirt and the tight tights from her White Marten costume. She had a much more appetising figure than Emeline, plus her body wasn't marred by ugly scars and equally ugly tattoos. Emeline was led over to one of the pillars and forced to put her back against it. Luckily for her, the surface of the pillars was fairly smooth. It was clear that prisoners were tied to them on a regular basis. Emeline's hands were placed behind the pillar and her wrists were tied tightly with hemp rope that cut painfully into her hands. While one of the men took care of her hands, the other took care of her legs. With the same rope, he tied the girl's legs at the ankles, several coils at the shins and thighs, and then he put the loose ends behind the post and there tied them in tight knots. Julia found herself left to herself and slowly began to back herself into a corner. She saw a small sharp stone and took it in her fist so that she could free herself. Her manoeuvre did not escape Emeline, who nodded faintly in approval. Emeline's torso was pulled to the beam in several places - a noose around her stomach, and just above and lower of her breasts. The same loops pulled her shoulders and forearms to the pole. The girl could not move an inch away from the beam. After this, the kidnappers took Julia. In general, the method was not much different from the one used on Emeline, but the ropes were longer and there were more of them. It was understandable, Julia was of stronger build, and her muscles were better developed. When the kidnappers had finished with the captives, they switched off the lights and left the cabin, shutting the door. The captives could see each other, but only as silhouettes at the edge of visibility. Julia was about to saw the ropes, but Emeline shook her head in denial.
“Ghn'ht ghn nth! Lthmr!” the black-haired girl moaned through gag.
Julia did not understand her cellmate.
“Whht?”
“Thnn nhhrly! Nhhr–ly!” Emeline moaned slowly, syllabically. Julia nodded. Emeline's confidence was reassuring to the woman. She had already realised that the twins had been in all sorts of trouble and were unlike most people she knew, even thieves. Julia waited for the girl to give the go-ahead. Emeline closed her eyes as if listening to something. Julia asked questions impatiently several times, but Oscuro kept shaking her head. At one point, she nodded confidently, and Julia began sawing the rope around her wrists.
“Shthp!” Emeline warned, and Julia froze, hiding the stone in her fist. A man peered into the house, shone a light on the captives, and stepped out. Emeline signalled for Julia to continue. Soon, the ropes around Julia's wrists loosened and fell to the floor. Then, twisting, she began to saw through the rope that held her stomach and forearms down. It took much longer. It took almost an hour to free her breasts, but by late night, Julia was free. She quietly walked over to Emeline and began to free her. In some places, it was easier to untie the knot, but in some places, she had to cut the rope. Finally, when Emeline was free, she pulled off the gag and began to rub wrists quickly. All the clothes that had been taken off the prisoners were dragged away. Before opening the door, Emeline sat down and listened.
“Let's get out of here,” she whispered to Julia, and opened the door. They both ducked out of the house and walked quickly hiding behind it. They climbed over the fence and moved toward the wooded area. There they took cover behind the trees.
“We're not going to look for clothes?”
“Definitely not here. I'm sure all our clothes have been taken home to wives and daughters. Have you seen how this gang lives?”
“You don't have to explain. I hear you. What's the plan, Special Agent Oscuro?”
“Right now, we circle this camp in a wide arc and head back. Can you walk barefoot?”
“I'm not sure,” Julia said after a moment's thought.
“We'll think of something then, but right now we'd better move away. I didn't hear any dogs, but that doesn't mean there aren't any. And they could be searching the woods... And here's the solution to your problem, by the way...”
Emeline pointed to the red-haired girl who was walking, armed, along the outer perimeter of the camp. She pointed to the eighteenth cabin, where the prisoners were hidden. Emeline, treading quietly descended lower. When the girl passed her, she jumped on her from behind and squeezed her throat until she lost consciousness. After that, the black-haired girl dragged her into the bushes and further into the woods. There she searched the girl and found plastic handcuffs in her pocket. She briefly pulled off girl's T-shirt, shorts and sandals. She tossed the T-shirt and sandals to Julia and kept the shorts for herself. She put the girl's hands behind the trunk of a thick tree and cuffed them. Julia had already pulled on the T-shirt, which was too small. The sandals were slightly larger than needed. Emeline pulled on her shorts, wishing the girl had another t-shirt. Tucking her gun into the waistband of her shorts, the two former captives went deeper into the woods.
My stories:
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
Chapter 3 (finale)
***
When the black tinted Majestic Victory SUV pulled into the car park, Armando was already standing in front of the entrance of Goodwill Сafeteria, arms folded defiantly across his chest. The young man's brown eyes glittered with unyielding determination. Yes, he could go to Smallwood, but he was sober about his chances. He could get in, but getting out was a long shot.
Armando and Emeline arrived at Joshua Clark's gallery to find evidence of the latter's involvement in several episodes of human trafficking. Not directly, no, but sponsorship of the main players equated to complicity. Clark had a lot of profit from these illegal transactions. They knew from Clark that White Marten intended to pay a visit to the gallery to steal the painting "The Eternal Warrior". The suspicion that White Marten and Julia Haley were the same person had arisen about the second day of the presence. There was no proof; it was all on a feeling level. Unfortunately, things did not go according to plan, and at the same time for everyone. Emeline was in the security room at the wrong time, although she was originally supposed to be in the back room with the alarm system. Robert, instead of sitting at the console, decided to have a conversation with the girl, and she could not use the sleeping pills in her purse. Then Marten showed up and Emeline had to play the helpless victim, only to really become one because of the damn rope around her neck that she was unlikely never forget. The opportunity to free herself had finally gone to hell when Jake had jumped unluckily with the chair and lost his balance. There was only hope for Armando. He defeated Julia, but did not expect Thomas Moreau to show up. In the end, the special agents' plans were completely thwarted. Neither of them had any weapons with them. Those were the orders of Colonel Erebus Amethyst, who did not want to spook Clark. It only ended up making things worse and Clark definitely suspected something. Armando was left in a cafeteria in the middle of the wasteland, with no car and no way to continue his work. Sleepless for the second twenty-four hours, the young man found his thoughts becoming scattered and his eyes trying to close. A couple of hours of sleep while Emeline drove the car did not count...
***
The angry Emeline struggled as hard as she could, trying to loosen the straps that bound her slender body. A ball gag was in her mouth, preventing her from saying anything intelligible, and there was viscous saliva flowing from her mouth. She was wearing only panties, and she did not know where the rest of her clothes had gone. The last few hours had been the hardest for the special agent. It had started when she and Julia had almost run away from Smallwood. They had met a small family in one of the settlements, consisting of a father and his two children, a girl about eight years old and a boy about six years old. He even gave Emeline and Julia some of his late wife's clothes that they could change into without showing their bare legs and torsos, and gave them tea. The warm drink and the warmth of the house made Julia swelter and she fell asleep on the couch. Emeline held on until the last, but fell asleep too.
She could not say how long she had slept, it was already dark outside, but she woke up in the boot of an SUV, bound and gagged. She was being taken somewhere, but she could not see where. Julia was not in the car, and there was no one inside the SUV except Emeline and the driver. She tried to pull herself up, but she could not - someone had thrown a cargo net over the top.
Emeline tried to attract the driver's attention by moaning loudly, but he gave a frustrated sigh and turned up the volume on the receiver to drown out her moans. The girl had no choice but to try to loosen the restraints, which she did.
When the car stopped and the bound Emeline was pulled out of the boot, she looked up and saw a man standing over her. The sun shining behind his head her made it hard to see his face.
“Welcome to my mansion, Miss Oscuro. You've avoided my invitation for a cup of tea for so long. We have much to discuss, don't you think?”
When Emeline recognised the man, she screamed in horror, but only a half-suffocated moan escaped through the gag. She started to wriggle violently in her restraints, but it was no use.
***
Julia woke up in an abandoned building. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, her athletic body wrapped tightly in duct tape. With all her will, it was impossible for her to get out without help. Her mouth was stuffed with some kind of rag and taped shut with several strips of tape. The woman looked up and froze. Sitting in the chair in front of her was a swarthy, dark-haired man with cold eyes as black as the abyss.
“Miss Haley. No need to answer, I already know who you are.”
The woman squirmed, trying to get comfortable. The tape made it hard to bend her legs at the knees, the edges of the tape digging painfully into her skin.
“You may have heard my name. My name is Michael Silver, owner of SIC Insurance. Some time ago, I was approached by an old acquaintance of mine, Mr Joshua Clark, who claimed that one of his employees was unscrupulous and was plotting a robbery. What was our surprise when the robbery did not take place, but some works of art were replaced by crude forgeries? At the same time, a few days before, a certain art historian had signed an inventory report, where everything was in order. Do you see what I'm getting at?”
Julia nodded uncertainly.
“Mm ghmth mthnm thmm, Mm ghMMM!”
“I don't understand a word of you, but I guess you are now assuring me of your innocence. I won't deny that you may not have been involved. Then a certain thief called the White Marten was involved. How surprised we were to discover that the White Marten and an art historian Julia Haley are the same person! A neat move: an art historian substitutes a painting, and then signs a report that everything is in order, and then a known art thief robs the gallery and that's it. Look for the wind in the field, don't you?”
Julia shook her head.
“Mm ghmth mthNM! Mmth mmn mmmthmn mmnth!”
“Mr. Clarke was very saddened by this fact. It was also very suspicious that there were two agents from the Bureau of Special Investigation in the gallery at the time, and that there were two thieves. Can you tell me how that happened? No? That's too bad, too bad. I'm sure no court will accept our arguments as evidence, but we don't have to. Now, Miss Hayley, you have two choices. Option one, you give us all the paintings you stole. The originals, of course. After that, we'll let you walk away. It's the most painless option for us. The second option is you don't give us the paintings, then my insurance company will have to pay Mr. Clark a substantial settlement. The question then becomes, how do we recover our costs? I believe we can recover some of our costs through either you or your alter ego, the White Marten. However, using the White Marten to make money is risky. She's too willful and could stab us in the back at the worst possible moment. I'd rather leave the art historian in the hands of my old friend Joachim Lewis. I think he'd pay a good sum for a beauty like you. In that case, you'll have to work for him for the rest of your life, or until you've paid him the amount he'll spend on your charming person.”
“MMMNNM, MTH MMMNN!” the terrified woman moaned through the gag.
Michael, or Miguel, as Armando called him, walked over to the woman, ripped the duct tape off her face, and pulled the gag out.
“Please! Don't take me to Lewis! I'll find the money!” the woman pleaded.
“Now, that's a different conversation, but you'd better get the paintings back.”
“I don't have them. I swear, when I signed the deed, the paintings were in perfect order!”
“Are you suggesting we believe the White Marten's oath? You're not without a sense of humour, young lady. The amount of damage to Mr. Clark's gallery is four hundred and eighty thousand two hundred and twenty-six ling.”
Julia turned pale. She would never be able to collect such a sum, even if she managed to steal from a dozen or two galleries. It was clear to her that Miguel had taken the sum out of thin air, for the Eternal Warrior had been offered for only sixty thousand at Bright's Exchange, and it was the most valuable work.
“I'll... try to raise money,” the blonde gulped.
“Good girl. You have a fortnight, after which.... Is that clear, I hope?”
“Y-yes,” the woman's voice trembled.
“Don't expect to escape. We will find you anywhere in this world, I hope that's clear?”
“Y-yes!”
“That's good,” Miguel leaned over and pulled out a huge knife and cut the scotch tape in one place, then left without saying goodbye. Julia realised she was in huge trouble ahead of her and had absolutely no idea what to do. She did not even know if Emeline and Armando were alive. She sincerely hoped they were both safe. As she thought about it, she wriggled around, frantically tearing off the duct tape that had entangled her trained body.
***
“Mrs. Mitchell,” Armando greeted a middle-aged woman with short blond hair, wearing a tactical jacket and trousers and a folded beret tucked under her shoulder straps. - Glad you could make it.
“Armando,” she smiled. “To what do I owe this unusual meeting place?”
“Alas, business matters. I'd like you to introduce me to the head of the Smallwood commune.”
“And what prompted your interest?”
“Four hours ago, my sister and a witness in our case were kidnapped by the Smallwood gang.”
“Kidnapped from where?”
“Right here,” Armando pointed his hand towards Takuro. The woman walked over and looked at the car.
“What makes you think the Smallwood gang was behind the kidnapping?”
“The waitress recognised the van. They come to this campground a lot for a bite to eat.”
“Oh, I see. Is the waitress here?”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Then please wait a little while.”
The woman went to the cafeteria and came back half an hour later.
“Everything's confirmed, so let's go. You're lucky I know the head of this commune,” she adjusted her uniform and got into the front seat. Armando sat in the back, next to Sheila. In the front seat sat a dark-looking guy with white curly hair.
“Armando, do you realise the cost of my intervention?”
Special Agent Oscuro nodded silently. Mrs. Mitchell was not easy, and her connections were the envy of the head of any intelligence agency. She was a pragmatist to the core and was driven solely by self-interest. Armando did not trust her on a dime, but in such a delicate case he simply did not know who else to turn to. He could have looked for a way out through the local authorities. So first he had to find these authorities and get them interested in something. It was easier to agree to Sheila's terms. Just a small favour in return and some of them were quite interesting professionally. For example, in their last collaboration, Sheila had asked her and Emeline to pose as bodyguards for the famous pop singer Charlize Delacroix. The girl did not want to be surrounded by brick-faced boogeymen, but two handsome twins seemed acceptable to her. Of course, the woman turned out to be with her own fences, but the twins with honour passed the test, for which Charlize praised them very much and even encouraged them to conclude a permanent contract.
It took them about forty minutes to get into Smallwood, and the first thing Armando saw was a nearly naked red-haired girl hanging by her arms from a thick tree branch. She was stretched out in a string, her ribs showing under her skin. A full-figured woman in her fifties stood with rods in her hands, whipping her captive and saying something. The gagged cries of the girl were almost ignored. Considering that the girl was spinning around the axis of suspension, the blows were hitting anywhere.
The SUV stopped and Sheila got out of the vehicle, followed by the others. One of her staff stayed beside the car, demonstratively putting his hand on his holster, and the second, together with Armando, headed after the woman.
“Wait here, I need to talk,” Sheila said and left them about twenty yards from the punishment scene. Armando listened intently.
“Good morning, Jane,” Sheila said hello to the full-figured woman, who interrupted the girl's whipping and turned to the owner of the detective agency.
“Ah, Sheila. It's good to see you. What brings you to our community?”
“They say your guys invited two girls from the car park of the Goodwill Cafeteria to visit. Is that true?”
Jane turned to the redheaded girl and gave the girl another belly slap.
“It was. Only Eliza, fucking dumb, missed them. I'm teaching her a lesson.”
“Don't accidentally kill her.”
“I won't, I'm careful. She is my youngest daughter. I've decided to start learning a trade so she can do some good.”
“How did she miss them?” Mrs. Mitchell was interested.
“The guests were not bad. They cut the ropes with a jagged stone and then escaped. They must have delayed to get clothes and weapons, and then my fool came along. They attacked, stripped and tied her to a tree, and ran away”, Jane sighed, adding angrily, “and now I'm going to have to blush in front of Miguel!”
Behind Jane's heavy sigh, there was the sound of air splitting, a ringing thump, and a loud groan from the red-haired girl.
“Who is Miguel?”
“Miguel Silva, of course.”
“What's he got to do with it?”
“He asked a lady to come to our house to show us hospitality for a couple of days. And she was with the federale girl who was helping her.”
“Who's the lady? If it's no secret, of course.”
“Office slut, screwed her boss for big bucks, and he went to Miguel.”
“Who's the federal girl? What agency?”
“BSI agent. There were two agents, and they were told to capture them if they could, and if not, to hell with them. My boys caught the girl, she was in the car with the lady, but they didn't catch the guy, he went to the toilet or something else. They slashed the wheels on his car so he wouldn't chase them and drove off, quietly and peacefully.”
“So Miguel Silva asked you to detain them?”
“That's right. What's your business here?”
“Just about an agent... This young man here,” she pointed to Armando, “is very concerned about his partner's disappearance, and he came to me.”
“We'd love to help, but it's too late. Look for them in Hare Corner. That's Richard Carlisle's territory,” the woman explained and turned to her daughter. “Do you see what your carelessness has done? Such a fine young man is saddened that his partner didn't wait for him!”
There was the sound of air splitting, thump and a moan from the girl. Armando realised that Emeline's trail was melting away before his eyes. Sheila, after saying goodbye to Jane, approached Agent Oscuro and her employee.
“Did you hear everything?” She turned to a saddened Armando.
“Everything.”
“I'm sorry, I can't help you.”
“Can you at least give me a lift to Hare Corner?”
“You want to use us as taxi drivers?” Sheila smirked. “Well, we're about that way anyway, so we'll drop you off, but that's the end of our co-operation this time. I've kept my end of the bargain, and the next time I need you, I'll call you.”
“Thank you,” Armando gritted his teeth.
“You're welcome!” Mrs. Mitchell grinned. “When you find your sister, give her my regards!”
***
Sheila kept her word and dropped Armando off on the outskirts of Hare Corner, then drove off. The village was small, no more than fifty houses, a typical backwater. Perhaps if he had been in Emeline's place, he would not have stayed long. The nearest settlement to Smallwood, after all, was too dangerous. Armando felt himself falling asleep as he walked. He did a series of calisthenics to get his blood flowing. Someone's dog barked at him, but Armando only waved it away. He had no idea how to find his sister... or Julia, for that matter. They had been foolish to get involved, now Emeline was nowhere to be found, and Armando was wringing his hands trying to find her.
Sitting down on a bench near one of the overgrown fences, the young man thought about where he would go for help if he found himself in a similar situation. There were two options: to ordinary people and to the police. It would be enough to ask to use the phone and dial the number of the contact in Dawnport, then hide somewhere and wait for help. Emeline and Julia might already be on their way to Dawnport. Armando pulled out his old mobile phone and looked at the screen. Not a single missed call. He even looked at the received calls. The last call was from Emeline from two days ago.
“Where are you, sis?” Armando whispered, looking thoughtfully at the black-and-white Majestic Victory with the county sheriff's emblem on the door. The car was coming from the opposite end of the village. Following the SUV was a Storm Classic ambulance. Armando went that way, more out of curiosity. He saw a ramshackle, one-storey house with three people standing outside - a man and two children, a boy and a girl. They were watching the cars drive away, and Armando listened.
“Where did they take those ladies?” The boy asked, tugging on his father's sleeve.
“They need help, so they're going to the sheriff's office,” the father smiled and ruffled his son's hair.
“Why didn't we wake them up?“
“They were very tired. Let's go inside,” the man was about to lead the children into the house, but Armando called out to him.
“Sir, what happened here?” Armando asked with a touch of curiosity in his voice.
“Nothing much,” the man glanced at Armando and squinted his eyes. The young man standing in front of him looked a lot like the girl who had just been sent to the sheriff's office. “Two girls asked to use the phone, so I called the sheriff to help them. That was it. One was pretending to be a special agent... By the way, I haven't seen you here before.”
“This is my first time here and I'm looking for my partner. Special Agent Armando Oscuro,” the young man pulled out his badge and shoved it under the man's nose. “How far is the sheriff's office?”
The man turned pale. Judging by the badge, the man in front of him was definitely a special agent, and if he said, he was looking for his partner, then....
“Oldburg, of course. It's about twenty miles west. The girls were tired, fell asleep, and couldn't be awakened at once!”
“What's the sheriff's name?! Quick!”
“Richard Carlisle!”
“Fuck!” Armando swore. “Got a phone?”
“Yes, please follow me.”
Once inside, Armando grabbed the phone and dialled the contact's number. The contact still wasn't picking up, which was very strange.
“What's the sheriff's number?”
The man dictated a number and Armando dialled it. After the third ring, a bassy male voice answered.
“Oldburg County Sheriff's Office.”
“Hello, sir. I am Special Agent Armando Oscuro with BSI. Five minutes ago, a vehicle bearing your insignia, along with an ambulance, picked up two women from Hare Corner: my partner, Emeline Oscuro, and a witness in our case, Julia Haley....”
“Hare Corner?” the man on the other end of the line seemed surprised. “We didn't send any cars to Hare Corner today. Are you sure it was our car?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“You saw the licence plate number?”
“Lima-Oscar-Hotel-Three-Eight-Five-Five,” Armando remembered.
“Hmm. It's Sheriff Carlisle's car. Wait five minutes, I'll check it out.”
Armando looked at the man shuffling from foot to foot. The children sat in the corner. Armando was annoyed - his sister had just been so close, and he'd just missed her again. His last hope that the sheriff would turn out to be an honest man. Finally, on the other end of the wire, they spoke again.
“Sheriff Carlisle claims he hasn't been to Hare Corner since last weekend. You can come down to our office and witness it for yourself. Now, please don't distract us from our work.”
Armando gritted his teeth.
“I heard you,” he hung up and looked irritably at the man. “What number did you call the sheriff at?”
“The same number you called,” the man folded his arms across his chest. “Leave my house, please.”
***
Armando reached the sheriff's office almost by evening. He had to hitch a ride to Oldburg. An elderly driver in a beat-up Storm Field pickup drove him straight to the two-story building where the office was located. Armando flew into the spacious lobby and approached the front desk, where a full bearded man sat.
“What can I do for you?” The young man recognised him by his voice.
“Special Agent Oscuro. I called you from Hare Сorner today. My partner and a witness in our case were there before your men took them away.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about. Sheriff Carlisle wasn't in Hare Corner today. Perhaps you mistook a civilian vehicle for ours.”
“By the way, Mr. James Wallace claims he called Sheriff Carlisle today.”
A short, balding man with reddish hair came down the hall. He fixed his eyes on Armando, and the young man realised he was the sheriff.
“Sheriff Carlisle, I am Special Agent Oscuro with BSI. Can I ask you a few questions?”
“You can, but not until tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry.”
“It does not take much time. I was wondering where you took my partner from Hare Corner. I saw your car pull away from James Wallace's house. I am afraid if you do not cooperate, I am going to have to initiate an investigation of you,” Armando tried to press the sheriff, but he only smirked.
“I can't help you, Mr. Osborne.”
“Oscuro.”
“Whatever. Boy, a word of advice: if you're trying to annoy people who are at least twice your weight in society and history, make sure you have a solid backup. So far all I see is an arrogant youngster distracting respectable people from their work. Good day to you.”
With that, Carlisle left the building. Armando followed.
“Mr. Carlisle, where did you take my sister?”
“Are you still here?” the sheriff turned round irritably. “Get out of here or I'll put you in a cell for twenty-four hours.”
“My superior, Colonel Erebus Amethyst, will be saddened by your lack of co-operation.”
“Tell him he can kiss my ass,” the sheriff slammed the door of his SUV shut, and with a squeal of tyres, the car sped away.
“Yeah, as long as you don't have to kiss his ass to survive,” Armando sighed and headed down the street. He had laid almost all of his trump cards on the table to get the sheriff to talk, but it was all to no avail and Emeline's location was unknown. As he passed an alley, Armando smelled something wrong, but he did not have time to react. Someone had covered his nose and mouth with a rag soaked in a sweet-smelling liquid. The special agent's consciousness faded.
***
Julia reached the Dawnport by the evening of the next day. She had made her decision earlier, and she was not about to give it up. She had to run, run for her life. Visiting her safe house in Fairgrave, the woman pulled the rest of her cash and some clothes out of her stash before heading for Dawnport. The twins were right and it was possible to fly off the island from Dawnport airport without any problems. They had booked their tickets while still travelling from the gallery.
“Mrs. Gwendolen Farley?” The customs officer asked, scrutinising her passport.
“Yes,” Julia nodded.
“Anything illegal: weapons, drugs, contraband?”
“No,” Julia shook her head.
“Then come on in.”
After half an hour of waiting, the woman boarded the plane and sat by the porthole. She felt sorry for Emeline, the girl had been honest in both her desires and her willingness to help. In spite of being angry with Julia, she had not abandoned her, though they might have left her in the gallery and gone away. That she should have called her brother aside and outlined the situation, then fled. This is what Julia herself would have done. The woman sighed and looked out at the distant land and then at the vast ocean.
After flying to Timor, Julia passed through customs without any difficulty and went to the taxi rank with her suitcase. She chose a car, where a tall and handsome blond-haired man with blue eyes, about thirty-five years old, stood beside it. He helped her load her suitcase into the boot and then gallantly opened the door. She didn't know the way to the hotel and decided to trust a professional. She didn't notice that she had dozed off. When she opened her eyes, the taxi was just pulling into a courtyard and Julia realised with horror that it was the police station. At least two white cars with blue stripes on the sides were parked near the porch.
“Where are we?”
“It is the Timor police station.”
Julia tensed. A man grasped her shoulder firmly and led her through the station and into an interrogation room. There the man pointed to a chair, sat down opposite her and stared at her with a cold stare that made her very uncomfortable.
“Miss Haley, I have a lot of questions for you.”
“You can ask them, special agent...?”
“Senior Special Agent Bernardo Oscuro.”
Julia froze. She knew what question he was going to ask first, and Bernardo did not wait long.
“Where are my children?”
====
Author's note:
This is the final chapter of the story about Julia "White Marten" Haley's desire to leave her criminal past. I'm sure she will appear in the next stories, but as a minor character.
Originally, the story was supposed to end much earlier and in a completely different way. However, in the process of writing, I added too many strings to my other stories, which became a tangle and led to this ending.
I hope you enjoy it!
***
When the black tinted Majestic Victory SUV pulled into the car park, Armando was already standing in front of the entrance of Goodwill Сafeteria, arms folded defiantly across his chest. The young man's brown eyes glittered with unyielding determination. Yes, he could go to Smallwood, but he was sober about his chances. He could get in, but getting out was a long shot.
Armando and Emeline arrived at Joshua Clark's gallery to find evidence of the latter's involvement in several episodes of human trafficking. Not directly, no, but sponsorship of the main players equated to complicity. Clark had a lot of profit from these illegal transactions. They knew from Clark that White Marten intended to pay a visit to the gallery to steal the painting "The Eternal Warrior". The suspicion that White Marten and Julia Haley were the same person had arisen about the second day of the presence. There was no proof; it was all on a feeling level. Unfortunately, things did not go according to plan, and at the same time for everyone. Emeline was in the security room at the wrong time, although she was originally supposed to be in the back room with the alarm system. Robert, instead of sitting at the console, decided to have a conversation with the girl, and she could not use the sleeping pills in her purse. Then Marten showed up and Emeline had to play the helpless victim, only to really become one because of the damn rope around her neck that she was unlikely never forget. The opportunity to free herself had finally gone to hell when Jake had jumped unluckily with the chair and lost his balance. There was only hope for Armando. He defeated Julia, but did not expect Thomas Moreau to show up. In the end, the special agents' plans were completely thwarted. Neither of them had any weapons with them. Those were the orders of Colonel Erebus Amethyst, who did not want to spook Clark. It only ended up making things worse and Clark definitely suspected something. Armando was left in a cafeteria in the middle of the wasteland, with no car and no way to continue his work. Sleepless for the second twenty-four hours, the young man found his thoughts becoming scattered and his eyes trying to close. A couple of hours of sleep while Emeline drove the car did not count...
***
The angry Emeline struggled as hard as she could, trying to loosen the straps that bound her slender body. A ball gag was in her mouth, preventing her from saying anything intelligible, and there was viscous saliva flowing from her mouth. She was wearing only panties, and she did not know where the rest of her clothes had gone. The last few hours had been the hardest for the special agent. It had started when she and Julia had almost run away from Smallwood. They had met a small family in one of the settlements, consisting of a father and his two children, a girl about eight years old and a boy about six years old. He even gave Emeline and Julia some of his late wife's clothes that they could change into without showing their bare legs and torsos, and gave them tea. The warm drink and the warmth of the house made Julia swelter and she fell asleep on the couch. Emeline held on until the last, but fell asleep too.
She could not say how long she had slept, it was already dark outside, but she woke up in the boot of an SUV, bound and gagged. She was being taken somewhere, but she could not see where. Julia was not in the car, and there was no one inside the SUV except Emeline and the driver. She tried to pull herself up, but she could not - someone had thrown a cargo net over the top.
Emeline tried to attract the driver's attention by moaning loudly, but he gave a frustrated sigh and turned up the volume on the receiver to drown out her moans. The girl had no choice but to try to loosen the restraints, which she did.
When the car stopped and the bound Emeline was pulled out of the boot, she looked up and saw a man standing over her. The sun shining behind his head her made it hard to see his face.
“Welcome to my mansion, Miss Oscuro. You've avoided my invitation for a cup of tea for so long. We have much to discuss, don't you think?”
When Emeline recognised the man, she screamed in horror, but only a half-suffocated moan escaped through the gag. She started to wriggle violently in her restraints, but it was no use.
***
Julia woke up in an abandoned building. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, her athletic body wrapped tightly in duct tape. With all her will, it was impossible for her to get out without help. Her mouth was stuffed with some kind of rag and taped shut with several strips of tape. The woman looked up and froze. Sitting in the chair in front of her was a swarthy, dark-haired man with cold eyes as black as the abyss.
“Miss Haley. No need to answer, I already know who you are.”
The woman squirmed, trying to get comfortable. The tape made it hard to bend her legs at the knees, the edges of the tape digging painfully into her skin.
“You may have heard my name. My name is Michael Silver, owner of SIC Insurance. Some time ago, I was approached by an old acquaintance of mine, Mr Joshua Clark, who claimed that one of his employees was unscrupulous and was plotting a robbery. What was our surprise when the robbery did not take place, but some works of art were replaced by crude forgeries? At the same time, a few days before, a certain art historian had signed an inventory report, where everything was in order. Do you see what I'm getting at?”
Julia nodded uncertainly.
“Mm ghmth mthnm thmm, Mm ghMMM!”
“I don't understand a word of you, but I guess you are now assuring me of your innocence. I won't deny that you may not have been involved. Then a certain thief called the White Marten was involved. How surprised we were to discover that the White Marten and an art historian Julia Haley are the same person! A neat move: an art historian substitutes a painting, and then signs a report that everything is in order, and then a known art thief robs the gallery and that's it. Look for the wind in the field, don't you?”
Julia shook her head.
“Mm ghmth mthNM! Mmth mmn mmmthmn mmnth!”
“Mr. Clarke was very saddened by this fact. It was also very suspicious that there were two agents from the Bureau of Special Investigation in the gallery at the time, and that there were two thieves. Can you tell me how that happened? No? That's too bad, too bad. I'm sure no court will accept our arguments as evidence, but we don't have to. Now, Miss Hayley, you have two choices. Option one, you give us all the paintings you stole. The originals, of course. After that, we'll let you walk away. It's the most painless option for us. The second option is you don't give us the paintings, then my insurance company will have to pay Mr. Clark a substantial settlement. The question then becomes, how do we recover our costs? I believe we can recover some of our costs through either you or your alter ego, the White Marten. However, using the White Marten to make money is risky. She's too willful and could stab us in the back at the worst possible moment. I'd rather leave the art historian in the hands of my old friend Joachim Lewis. I think he'd pay a good sum for a beauty like you. In that case, you'll have to work for him for the rest of your life, or until you've paid him the amount he'll spend on your charming person.”
“MMMNNM, MTH MMMNN!” the terrified woman moaned through the gag.
Michael, or Miguel, as Armando called him, walked over to the woman, ripped the duct tape off her face, and pulled the gag out.
“Please! Don't take me to Lewis! I'll find the money!” the woman pleaded.
“Now, that's a different conversation, but you'd better get the paintings back.”
“I don't have them. I swear, when I signed the deed, the paintings were in perfect order!”
“Are you suggesting we believe the White Marten's oath? You're not without a sense of humour, young lady. The amount of damage to Mr. Clark's gallery is four hundred and eighty thousand two hundred and twenty-six ling.”
Julia turned pale. She would never be able to collect such a sum, even if she managed to steal from a dozen or two galleries. It was clear to her that Miguel had taken the sum out of thin air, for the Eternal Warrior had been offered for only sixty thousand at Bright's Exchange, and it was the most valuable work.
“I'll... try to raise money,” the blonde gulped.
“Good girl. You have a fortnight, after which.... Is that clear, I hope?”
“Y-yes,” the woman's voice trembled.
“Don't expect to escape. We will find you anywhere in this world, I hope that's clear?”
“Y-yes!”
“That's good,” Miguel leaned over and pulled out a huge knife and cut the scotch tape in one place, then left without saying goodbye. Julia realised she was in huge trouble ahead of her and had absolutely no idea what to do. She did not even know if Emeline and Armando were alive. She sincerely hoped they were both safe. As she thought about it, she wriggled around, frantically tearing off the duct tape that had entangled her trained body.
***
“Mrs. Mitchell,” Armando greeted a middle-aged woman with short blond hair, wearing a tactical jacket and trousers and a folded beret tucked under her shoulder straps. - Glad you could make it.
“Armando,” she smiled. “To what do I owe this unusual meeting place?”
“Alas, business matters. I'd like you to introduce me to the head of the Smallwood commune.”
“And what prompted your interest?”
“Four hours ago, my sister and a witness in our case were kidnapped by the Smallwood gang.”
“Kidnapped from where?”
“Right here,” Armando pointed his hand towards Takuro. The woman walked over and looked at the car.
“What makes you think the Smallwood gang was behind the kidnapping?”
“The waitress recognised the van. They come to this campground a lot for a bite to eat.”
“Oh, I see. Is the waitress here?”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Then please wait a little while.”
The woman went to the cafeteria and came back half an hour later.
“Everything's confirmed, so let's go. You're lucky I know the head of this commune,” she adjusted her uniform and got into the front seat. Armando sat in the back, next to Sheila. In the front seat sat a dark-looking guy with white curly hair.
“Armando, do you realise the cost of my intervention?”
Special Agent Oscuro nodded silently. Mrs. Mitchell was not easy, and her connections were the envy of the head of any intelligence agency. She was a pragmatist to the core and was driven solely by self-interest. Armando did not trust her on a dime, but in such a delicate case he simply did not know who else to turn to. He could have looked for a way out through the local authorities. So first he had to find these authorities and get them interested in something. It was easier to agree to Sheila's terms. Just a small favour in return and some of them were quite interesting professionally. For example, in their last collaboration, Sheila had asked her and Emeline to pose as bodyguards for the famous pop singer Charlize Delacroix. The girl did not want to be surrounded by brick-faced boogeymen, but two handsome twins seemed acceptable to her. Of course, the woman turned out to be with her own fences, but the twins with honour passed the test, for which Charlize praised them very much and even encouraged them to conclude a permanent contract.
It took them about forty minutes to get into Smallwood, and the first thing Armando saw was a nearly naked red-haired girl hanging by her arms from a thick tree branch. She was stretched out in a string, her ribs showing under her skin. A full-figured woman in her fifties stood with rods in her hands, whipping her captive and saying something. The gagged cries of the girl were almost ignored. Considering that the girl was spinning around the axis of suspension, the blows were hitting anywhere.
The SUV stopped and Sheila got out of the vehicle, followed by the others. One of her staff stayed beside the car, demonstratively putting his hand on his holster, and the second, together with Armando, headed after the woman.
“Wait here, I need to talk,” Sheila said and left them about twenty yards from the punishment scene. Armando listened intently.
“Good morning, Jane,” Sheila said hello to the full-figured woman, who interrupted the girl's whipping and turned to the owner of the detective agency.
“Ah, Sheila. It's good to see you. What brings you to our community?”
“They say your guys invited two girls from the car park of the Goodwill Cafeteria to visit. Is that true?”
Jane turned to the redheaded girl and gave the girl another belly slap.
“It was. Only Eliza, fucking dumb, missed them. I'm teaching her a lesson.”
“Don't accidentally kill her.”
“I won't, I'm careful. She is my youngest daughter. I've decided to start learning a trade so she can do some good.”
“How did she miss them?” Mrs. Mitchell was interested.
“The guests were not bad. They cut the ropes with a jagged stone and then escaped. They must have delayed to get clothes and weapons, and then my fool came along. They attacked, stripped and tied her to a tree, and ran away”, Jane sighed, adding angrily, “and now I'm going to have to blush in front of Miguel!”
Behind Jane's heavy sigh, there was the sound of air splitting, a ringing thump, and a loud groan from the red-haired girl.
“Who is Miguel?”
“Miguel Silva, of course.”
“What's he got to do with it?”
“He asked a lady to come to our house to show us hospitality for a couple of days. And she was with the federale girl who was helping her.”
“Who's the lady? If it's no secret, of course.”
“Office slut, screwed her boss for big bucks, and he went to Miguel.”
“Who's the federal girl? What agency?”
“BSI agent. There were two agents, and they were told to capture them if they could, and if not, to hell with them. My boys caught the girl, she was in the car with the lady, but they didn't catch the guy, he went to the toilet or something else. They slashed the wheels on his car so he wouldn't chase them and drove off, quietly and peacefully.”
“So Miguel Silva asked you to detain them?”
“That's right. What's your business here?”
“Just about an agent... This young man here,” she pointed to Armando, “is very concerned about his partner's disappearance, and he came to me.”
“We'd love to help, but it's too late. Look for them in Hare Corner. That's Richard Carlisle's territory,” the woman explained and turned to her daughter. “Do you see what your carelessness has done? Such a fine young man is saddened that his partner didn't wait for him!”
There was the sound of air splitting, thump and a moan from the girl. Armando realised that Emeline's trail was melting away before his eyes. Sheila, after saying goodbye to Jane, approached Agent Oscuro and her employee.
“Did you hear everything?” She turned to a saddened Armando.
“Everything.”
“I'm sorry, I can't help you.”
“Can you at least give me a lift to Hare Corner?”
“You want to use us as taxi drivers?” Sheila smirked. “Well, we're about that way anyway, so we'll drop you off, but that's the end of our co-operation this time. I've kept my end of the bargain, and the next time I need you, I'll call you.”
“Thank you,” Armando gritted his teeth.
“You're welcome!” Mrs. Mitchell grinned. “When you find your sister, give her my regards!”
***
Sheila kept her word and dropped Armando off on the outskirts of Hare Corner, then drove off. The village was small, no more than fifty houses, a typical backwater. Perhaps if he had been in Emeline's place, he would not have stayed long. The nearest settlement to Smallwood, after all, was too dangerous. Armando felt himself falling asleep as he walked. He did a series of calisthenics to get his blood flowing. Someone's dog barked at him, but Armando only waved it away. He had no idea how to find his sister... or Julia, for that matter. They had been foolish to get involved, now Emeline was nowhere to be found, and Armando was wringing his hands trying to find her.
Sitting down on a bench near one of the overgrown fences, the young man thought about where he would go for help if he found himself in a similar situation. There were two options: to ordinary people and to the police. It would be enough to ask to use the phone and dial the number of the contact in Dawnport, then hide somewhere and wait for help. Emeline and Julia might already be on their way to Dawnport. Armando pulled out his old mobile phone and looked at the screen. Not a single missed call. He even looked at the received calls. The last call was from Emeline from two days ago.
“Where are you, sis?” Armando whispered, looking thoughtfully at the black-and-white Majestic Victory with the county sheriff's emblem on the door. The car was coming from the opposite end of the village. Following the SUV was a Storm Classic ambulance. Armando went that way, more out of curiosity. He saw a ramshackle, one-storey house with three people standing outside - a man and two children, a boy and a girl. They were watching the cars drive away, and Armando listened.
“Where did they take those ladies?” The boy asked, tugging on his father's sleeve.
“They need help, so they're going to the sheriff's office,” the father smiled and ruffled his son's hair.
“Why didn't we wake them up?“
“They were very tired. Let's go inside,” the man was about to lead the children into the house, but Armando called out to him.
“Sir, what happened here?” Armando asked with a touch of curiosity in his voice.
“Nothing much,” the man glanced at Armando and squinted his eyes. The young man standing in front of him looked a lot like the girl who had just been sent to the sheriff's office. “Two girls asked to use the phone, so I called the sheriff to help them. That was it. One was pretending to be a special agent... By the way, I haven't seen you here before.”
“This is my first time here and I'm looking for my partner. Special Agent Armando Oscuro,” the young man pulled out his badge and shoved it under the man's nose. “How far is the sheriff's office?”
The man turned pale. Judging by the badge, the man in front of him was definitely a special agent, and if he said, he was looking for his partner, then....
“Oldburg, of course. It's about twenty miles west. The girls were tired, fell asleep, and couldn't be awakened at once!”
“What's the sheriff's name?! Quick!”
“Richard Carlisle!”
“Fuck!” Armando swore. “Got a phone?”
“Yes, please follow me.”
Once inside, Armando grabbed the phone and dialled the contact's number. The contact still wasn't picking up, which was very strange.
“What's the sheriff's number?”
The man dictated a number and Armando dialled it. After the third ring, a bassy male voice answered.
“Oldburg County Sheriff's Office.”
“Hello, sir. I am Special Agent Armando Oscuro with BSI. Five minutes ago, a vehicle bearing your insignia, along with an ambulance, picked up two women from Hare Corner: my partner, Emeline Oscuro, and a witness in our case, Julia Haley....”
“Hare Corner?” the man on the other end of the line seemed surprised. “We didn't send any cars to Hare Corner today. Are you sure it was our car?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“You saw the licence plate number?”
“Lima-Oscar-Hotel-Three-Eight-Five-Five,” Armando remembered.
“Hmm. It's Sheriff Carlisle's car. Wait five minutes, I'll check it out.”
Armando looked at the man shuffling from foot to foot. The children sat in the corner. Armando was annoyed - his sister had just been so close, and he'd just missed her again. His last hope that the sheriff would turn out to be an honest man. Finally, on the other end of the wire, they spoke again.
“Sheriff Carlisle claims he hasn't been to Hare Corner since last weekend. You can come down to our office and witness it for yourself. Now, please don't distract us from our work.”
Armando gritted his teeth.
“I heard you,” he hung up and looked irritably at the man. “What number did you call the sheriff at?”
“The same number you called,” the man folded his arms across his chest. “Leave my house, please.”
***
Armando reached the sheriff's office almost by evening. He had to hitch a ride to Oldburg. An elderly driver in a beat-up Storm Field pickup drove him straight to the two-story building where the office was located. Armando flew into the spacious lobby and approached the front desk, where a full bearded man sat.
“What can I do for you?” The young man recognised him by his voice.
“Special Agent Oscuro. I called you from Hare Сorner today. My partner and a witness in our case were there before your men took them away.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about. Sheriff Carlisle wasn't in Hare Corner today. Perhaps you mistook a civilian vehicle for ours.”
“By the way, Mr. James Wallace claims he called Sheriff Carlisle today.”
A short, balding man with reddish hair came down the hall. He fixed his eyes on Armando, and the young man realised he was the sheriff.
“Sheriff Carlisle, I am Special Agent Oscuro with BSI. Can I ask you a few questions?”
“You can, but not until tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry.”
“It does not take much time. I was wondering where you took my partner from Hare Corner. I saw your car pull away from James Wallace's house. I am afraid if you do not cooperate, I am going to have to initiate an investigation of you,” Armando tried to press the sheriff, but he only smirked.
“I can't help you, Mr. Osborne.”
“Oscuro.”
“Whatever. Boy, a word of advice: if you're trying to annoy people who are at least twice your weight in society and history, make sure you have a solid backup. So far all I see is an arrogant youngster distracting respectable people from their work. Good day to you.”
With that, Carlisle left the building. Armando followed.
“Mr. Carlisle, where did you take my sister?”
“Are you still here?” the sheriff turned round irritably. “Get out of here or I'll put you in a cell for twenty-four hours.”
“My superior, Colonel Erebus Amethyst, will be saddened by your lack of co-operation.”
“Tell him he can kiss my ass,” the sheriff slammed the door of his SUV shut, and with a squeal of tyres, the car sped away.
“Yeah, as long as you don't have to kiss his ass to survive,” Armando sighed and headed down the street. He had laid almost all of his trump cards on the table to get the sheriff to talk, but it was all to no avail and Emeline's location was unknown. As he passed an alley, Armando smelled something wrong, but he did not have time to react. Someone had covered his nose and mouth with a rag soaked in a sweet-smelling liquid. The special agent's consciousness faded.
***
Julia reached the Dawnport by the evening of the next day. She had made her decision earlier, and she was not about to give it up. She had to run, run for her life. Visiting her safe house in Fairgrave, the woman pulled the rest of her cash and some clothes out of her stash before heading for Dawnport. The twins were right and it was possible to fly off the island from Dawnport airport without any problems. They had booked their tickets while still travelling from the gallery.
“Mrs. Gwendolen Farley?” The customs officer asked, scrutinising her passport.
“Yes,” Julia nodded.
“Anything illegal: weapons, drugs, contraband?”
“No,” Julia shook her head.
“Then come on in.”
After half an hour of waiting, the woman boarded the plane and sat by the porthole. She felt sorry for Emeline, the girl had been honest in both her desires and her willingness to help. In spite of being angry with Julia, she had not abandoned her, though they might have left her in the gallery and gone away. That she should have called her brother aside and outlined the situation, then fled. This is what Julia herself would have done. The woman sighed and looked out at the distant land and then at the vast ocean.
After flying to Timor, Julia passed through customs without any difficulty and went to the taxi rank with her suitcase. She chose a car, where a tall and handsome blond-haired man with blue eyes, about thirty-five years old, stood beside it. He helped her load her suitcase into the boot and then gallantly opened the door. She didn't know the way to the hotel and decided to trust a professional. She didn't notice that she had dozed off. When she opened her eyes, the taxi was just pulling into a courtyard and Julia realised with horror that it was the police station. At least two white cars with blue stripes on the sides were parked near the porch.
“Where are we?”
“It is the Timor police station.”
Julia tensed. A man grasped her shoulder firmly and led her through the station and into an interrogation room. There the man pointed to a chair, sat down opposite her and stared at her with a cold stare that made her very uncomfortable.
“Miss Haley, I have a lot of questions for you.”
“You can ask them, special agent...?”
“Senior Special Agent Bernardo Oscuro.”
Julia froze. She knew what question he was going to ask first, and Bernardo did not wait long.
“Where are my children?”
====
Author's note:
This is the final chapter of the story about Julia "White Marten" Haley's desire to leave her criminal past. I'm sure she will appear in the next stories, but as a minor character.
Originally, the story was supposed to end much earlier and in a completely different way. However, in the process of writing, I added too many strings to my other stories, which became a tangle and led to this ending.
I hope you enjoy it!
My stories:
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
I did. I enjoyed your story very much and hope to see more.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
I am very glad you enjoyed my story! I have already posted a few of my stories on this forum, I will post a few more over time
My stories:
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished
Cristmas party (FM+/MF) - Finished
Art stealer's latest case (F/MMF, M/FM, MM/FF, F/F, M/F - Finished
Another way to payment (M/F) - Finished
Two sides of the medal (M+F+/FF) - Finished