Warnings: Language, Violence.

The following short story deals with the subject matter of slave trafficking, reader discretion is advised.

Aliana’s eyes never left Mr. Igoshimi Senior’s, making sure to keep her smile in place, no matter how dirty she felt just looking at the man. His sleazy smile came with a bit of drool. He took her by the hand and bid her to follow him to where she would be staying and taking care of his needs when he stayed in that room.

This told her that other girls probably were kept in other such rooms. Mr. Igoshimi led Aliana to a penthouse suite with a beautiful view. It was near morning now, so Mr. Igoshimi excused himself and instructed Aliana to be ready for him tonight.

Aliana took to cleaning the suite, dusting off the furniture, cleaning the couch and rugs, moving everything to clean under it and get at all the dust in every room of the suite.

When Mr. Igoshimi arrived that evening, he was impressed. She curtsied politely and bid Mr. Igohimi sit on the freshly vacuumed couch.

‘Bring me a tall bourbon.’

‘Right away, Mr. Igoshimi.’ Aliana poured him his drink and sat next to him as she placed it on the small table in front of the couch. She kept her knees together but angled them towards him to give the semblance of interest. ‘Long stressful day?’

‘That would be one way of putting it,’ Mr. Igoshimi replied.

Without invitation, she stood and began to massage his shoulders, carefully kneading his neck. He relaxed in her touch, groaning like a cat and melting like putty in her hands.

‘When we…’ she began, after he’d finished his second drink, as she continued to massage his back, ‘do you always like to film it?’

Mr. Igoshimi chuckled. ‘Found them, did you?’

‘Difficult not to, when cleaning.’ She pressed on a tender part and massaged gently. Mr. Igoshimi moaned pleasurably. ‘You like to record audio too?’

‘No audio,’ replied Mr. Igoshimi. ‘But if you’re up for it, we can angle the cameras so that when I rewatch later I can have an even better view of you.’

‘That sounds like an excellent idea,’ Aliana cooed.

Aliana moved back to his neck, massaging in circular motions that elicited a yawn from Mr. Igoshimi. She found the pressure point she was looking for, carefully ensuring that to him it would only seem as though he dozed off to sleep. She pressed and he was out cold.

Aliana took a step back. She moved Mr. Igoshimi to a lying position on the couch and began to clean in a safe corner of the suite.

‘I count five security cameras,’ she muttered. ‘No audio, as you heard. No sign of any of the other girls yet. I suspect they’re being kept in individual suites like this one but I can’t say if all of them are as lucky as me. Suite is…luxurious enough. I get my own bed too.’

‘Well done, Sanchez,’ came the voice on the other end of the earpiece–her boss, Anderson. ‘Feeling safe? Nothing untoward occurred.’

‘I’m all good, thanks,’ replied Aliana. ‘You would have heard anyway.’

‘We’ve done more research and digging,’ Anderson went on. ‘Turns out your boy, Danno, was never part of the past schemes. He’s clean. See what you can find out from him the next time you speak with him.’

‘If I get to speak to him again,’ corrected Aliana.

‘We’ve got agents shadowing the three Igoshimis but so far only Igoshimi Serior and his eldest son go to that casino from where they get their girls. Digging into their pasts revealed the same. We’ve got a point of entry. We’ll soon find who brings them the girls and where they take them from.’

‘Good.’ Aliana moved a mantel and dusted it off with the duster brush.

‘Agent Sanchez, don’t hesitate to do what you have to if any of them cross any lines.’

‘I won’t. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.’ She turned to make sure Mr. Igoshimi was still snoring. Then she lowered her voice and gave the coordinates she remembered of the safehouse. ‘Gain access to that computer. You’ll find records of the trafficking there with dates and names.’

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Warnings: Language, Violence.

The following short story deals with the subject matter of slave trafficking, reader discretion is advised.

Danno entered the casino where his father had instructed him to go. Finally, he was being trusted with something big, he knew, though his father had not told him the details. He had merely said to go and retrieve the package and then bring it to him at the business hotel.

Since his father, brother and he had moved to North America, Danno had been left in the dark for much of his father’s affairs, being the youngest son. Now he was in his early thirties, wondering what the hell he was going to do with his life if his brother were to inherit the business. Danno had always wanted to be part of his father’s hotel chain, wanted to learn how his father managed to negotiate so many deals that had made him the billionaire he was today. And yet he just felt something was missing.

He had turned to security and had trained to bodyguard his father as any loyal son would. He had worked hard to show his father that, just like his brother, he was ready to take on more responsibilities with the business.

‘Good evening, Mr. Igoshimi,’ a tall burly fellow said, ‘right this way.’

The American led Danno to a door at the back and into an elevator that took them down a few levels. He then led Danno into a backroom where stood two men, armed with repeaters, hovering around a computer. Danno noted the lack of security cameras down on this floor, and an uneasy feeling crept up his spine.

Danno’s escort bowed politely and left the three men alone to confer.

‘Mr. Igoshimi,’ one who had a southern accent said, ‘your father told us to expect you.’

‘Yes. I’m here to pick up the package,’ asserted Danno. Though he still had no clue what the package was.

‘Your father will find that she matches all the specifications indicated by him, except for a few details,’ said the other man. He winced. ‘But I assure you, your father will be more than pleased with her.’

Her? Danno wondered. ‘May I see her?’

‘Certainly, Mr. Igoshimi.’

The Americans led Danno through another door to a small room where sat a woman, wrists bound behind her, ankles bound, and mouth gagged.

Danno froze, his heart rising to his throat. He balled his hands into fists.

‘What is this?’ he hissed. ‘This is the package?’

The American men winced further. ‘We apologise that she is not as young as the others we provided for him,’ began one of them. Danno clenched his jaw, feeling disgusted at the realisation before him. ‘But I promise she will not disappoint.’

Danno slowly walked to the woman. She looked no more than a few years older than him, perhaps mid-thirties, with dark wavy hair falling below her shoulders; her face was stricken with sweat.

Danno gently removed the gag from her mouth. ‘What is your name?’

‘Aliana,’ she replied.

Danno swallowed, knowing instinctively what he had to do. After years of trying to prove to his father that he was just as worthy as his brother, he now understood what this life meant if he walked down that same road.

‘Aliana,’ breathed Danno, ‘close your eyes for me. Can you do that?’

She nodded and closed her eyes.

Danno whirled on the two men, whipping his gun up, and shot them in quick succession in the chest. They fell dead before they knew what was happening.

Danno spun around to face Aliana. ‘I’m going to get you out of here.’

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