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Wicked Game

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When Celeste came to, the nausea came back in a rush and she tried to slap her hand across her mouth to keep it inside only to find her hand shackled to the end of the bed in which she found herself. Great. Just great. Luckily, Rafe had taught her years ago how to pick a lock. They weren't even proper shackles but like something out of an ancient time. Also in her favor that it was only one arm that was locked to the bed. There was no light in the room, but she could hear other voices, soft like sleep talking or just the sound of their breath. She was not so good as to be able to number them, but she could tell that there were more in number than had been in the van. Another wave of nausea and her free hand went to her mouth.

"Heh, that little conk to the head made you a bit sick did it. Don't worry, it'll pass. By morning. Then it'll be training time." The male voice was practically soaked in alcohol and perverseness. "It'll just be me and you till morning." She could just hear the leer in his voice and repressed another shudder.

Celeste tried to put as much fear in her voice as she dared. "What's going on? I didn't do anything." For once she was grateful for looking as young as she did currently. It lent itself to the illusion pretty well.

"Just let me go, I won't tell anyone..."
 
That was definitely a reaction. What he wasn't sure of was whether it was the reaction he was looking for, or just this guy thinking he was giving him sass. Shame, if he'd had the alcohol on his breath still and a had left a few of his toys out of sight maybe he could have pushed it a little further, but he'd run here thinking he was going to be leaping into a warzone.

Not discovering Celeste might have been dealing with some shady types.

Shadier than him, anyway.

"Fair 'nuff."

The answer made him grit his teeth, but he tried his best to keep it out of his voice. This was the kind of situation where you got one strike, not three. And he may well have just made that one. Bullets in him would not help Celeste. So he started walking, turning his head forward. Steady steps, not too fast, to the door, open it up, exit nonchalantly. Make no spectacle, just like they wanted. He got a little bit of distance before the muscles in his jaw started to clamp like a vice and his teeth began to grind, putting a spark in his step. No raised hands, no going for pockets, nothing. His pace slowly increased until he came to the nearest corner out of sight.

He took it, stepping behind the building, and immediately spun and punched the brick wall like he was trying to put a dent in it.

It hurt. But thanks to steel and leather around his fist, it wasn't going to break anything.

Looking around to make sure there was no one around eying him up- oh, they were probably watching the corner he'd gone around, but fuck them, unless somebody looked like they were hugging his heels now, he could care less. Kael dug out his phone, flipped it open, and set it to autodial a number he'd just picked up earlier that day.

"Mei Lee. Wanna confirm the address," he snapped, digging out the paper and reading it off.
 
She picked up the phone quickly enough, but her voice was hushed in tone even while the sounds of children could be heard in the background. "Address? Yes, it's..." and repeated the address that was on the sheet of paper verbatim. "I've had it checked out as best as I was able. It used to be a gambling hall a few decades ago and about six years ago became an underground nightclub." In the background came a male voice. "'My love, who are you talking to?"

"Just a friend of Samantha's, beloved." The tones exchanged were loving but hers changed as she continued speaking to Rayner. "If you find him, don't be too obvious. Try telling him that you're looking for the singer known as the Celestial Star. Sam used to work under that nickname when she was in college at that very nightclub. It was the password they gave me each night I came to watch her, it might be a safe word. Good luck." She hung up then, not giving him much of a chance to reply, although she'd answer back if he called again.

What was interesting, was if he looked back at the building, over behind the man still sitting in the front, was a canvas cloth, covering up a lot but not all of a deep purple bike. The same color as Jezzabel, Sam's favorite bike.
 
"Maybe you could have told me that before I walked into a faceful of gun- ah, dammit!"

He had an urge to smash his phone, and glared up at the building. At the motorcycle he would have bet money- which he had no abundance of- was Jezzie. Windows, man in the yard... he stood at the corner, now in plain sight, and picked up the phone, and dialed one more time.

"-If you have Charlie's number, call him and tell the asshole to let me in this time," he put in as soon as the phone was picked up, before there was time for a proper answer from the other end. "I could have used that warning before I walked into a room full of guns. Second time they might feel less generous."
 
Her voice was calmer now, and a bit louder. After she'd hung up, she'd taken the puppies for a walk which meant she had a bit more privacy. "Yes, sorry.." there was the sound of a bit of a struggle, but at least she was completely audible. "If I had his number I would have called him. I told you, he's a ghost on the system. I only know his name because she mentions it. Your best bet is the password." Not a great thing to hear, now was it." You could almost hear the thoughts churning in her head as she tried to think about every conversation she'd overheard or incident.

"Oh! Tell the password to the guy who sits outside. Don't go in without giving the password to him. I'd completely forgotten. He's the maître'd and bouncer all rolled into one, so to speak. The place houses an underground nightclub. You don't get in without his say so. Anything else I can do though? Is she at least there? Any sign?"

~~~

Speaking of whom, the one of whom they were speaking was still sitting on the bed. She'd taken another blow to the head when she'd try to barter her way free. She hadn't expected to be let go, but neither had she expected another conk to the head. Luckily, she hadn't passed out this time. Keeping her focus she glared at her gaoler with all the hate she held for this entire operation.

"You're one of the white slavers, aren't you?" She was being more than a bit bold with her questioning, after a police woman would not have mentioned she knew anything, but on the streets, word travels fast. If she was truly a street kid or at least one of the neighborhood, she would have known about them. It was why the streets were so silent.

"It's your tough luck, girlie..."

He leaned forward, and again Celeste had to fight back the nausea. He had the foulest breath she could possibly have imagined. She tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed her face and jerked her chin around and she prayed to God she never saw his face.

"Come here..." And with that he jerked her face forward, grinding his lips against her mouth in the most obscene way possible, his tongue forcing his way past her teeth until she jerked and bit down as hard as she could on his tongue. Throwing her back against the bed, he yelped loud enough to disturb a few more of the house guest.

"You bit me?!? You fuckin' cunt! I'm going to fuck you, and then I'm going to kill you for that! Your own father won't recognize you when I'm done with you! The bossman won't even need to know you're gone."
 
"Jezzabel. She's here, or was here."

A deep sigh.

Focus a moment.

Yeah. A doorman. That'd make sense for a club. And it would be a lot less risky than knocking on the door again. Certainly since his next gamble had been to go in shouting it and dropping his weapons and coat outside as he went. It still wasn't something he was familiar with. Small time gangs? Yeah. But not organized crime, not underground culture, not the nuances of this local place. But he hadn't really been given a fistful of alternatives now had he?

"Thanks Mei."

He put the phone away, and started his march in again, trying not to look agitated or nervous about it as he went this time. Actually, he could just imagine the guns inside watching him coming back. Now that, that was a laugh. Suddenly, he was fighting not to grin as well as he walked up, taking a course that'd have him passing closer to the man by the tree this time. As he went, he reached up to his back, sweeping the duffel off and grabbing it in one hand by the middle. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out something more obvious. Kael popped open the sawed off shotgun, tucking the shells into his pocket, made sure the safety was on anyway, and then stopped by the man laying down.

"Celestial Star."

There went nothing.

He tossed the duffel and one long, stiff object inside, along with the now empty sawed off down on the grown beside the bike. If he didn't have something to interrupt him with, that just left one thing. To try to go inside again. This time a little less brazenly.
 
The old man at the door looked up as Rayner approached, giving him the squinty eye. He hadn't bothered the first time, after all, the entire troop had just gotten back and it was a way to keep them on their toes to let an occasional stranger in. But as he approached he said the magic word. Or well, one of them. Scratching his chin, he took a long look at him and his actions. Something about him interested the man. He looked tired and worn, but determined. And he spoke a word associated with a feather of the place downstairs, right after she'd left on an important mission. This time, he'd do it right.

"Celestial Star, eh? I haven't heard that name in a couple of years now...beautiful young lady, ain't she? Ever seen her dance before?" It was a test, of course, while Sam could dance, Rayner would know that when she did work at a nightclub she sang, not danced.
 
"She is,"

He stopped and looked back, a little unsure, but trying to look like he knew what was doing. Thankfully, it was not so much of a high stress situation out here. There was plenty of things to be concerned about, but the lack of pistols in his face helped tremendously.

"Nah. Not on stage, anyway."

As an after thought, he removed a knife from his belt, and tossed that down as well. Of course, he still had his other knife tucked away, but that one was easier to conceal.
 
The man smiled then, revealing a lack of teeth. "And why would you come to an old abandoned gambling house to see a bright Celestial Star, when you look like one who the cat drug in." The only man coughed for a moment, thumping his chest a few times to help clear it up before giving Rayner his full attention.

"She deserves the best, but she's haunted...I wonder what she's haunted by..." giving Rayner the clue that she had been there at least. But he seemed no more inclined to let him pass just yet. "Only two things haunt a woman that beautiful, the loss of a child or the loss of a man...I wonder which it was." he seemed to be both talking to Rayner and not, perhaps it had lost his wits all together.
 
"Wolves," he started, the word coming awkward off his tongue. Poetic type talk wasn't really his strong suit. Symbolism, stories, and junk. He was the sort who usually grinned and said something witty or just plain non sequitur with a liberal touch of sarcasm when people tries to get silk tongued on him or ask a serious question he didn't feel like delving into. And he didn't often feel like diverging too much. But he could have patience with an old man once at least.

"-and coyotes alike stare at the moon."

The next part was what made him shuffle uncomfortably though, and stare from the motorcycle over to the building.

"Maybe both."

It was acrid on his tongue.

"Maybe neither yet, with a bit of luck."

He was still holding out. Still trying. But there were things that were just beyond his power, and as long as he didn't find some one else who could, and would, do it for him, well. Hopeful was all he could really be. Not convinced.
 
"Sit down, boy. That star ain't going no where." He patted the ground in front of him. He squinted, looking at Rayner from beneath his bushy eyebrows as if he could tell what was going on just by doing so. "You sit and tell me your story" a hand wave to dismiss. "And just that story regarding that Celestial Star, and I'll see what I can do about helping you find her. Or you can just crawl back under that rock you came from and forget everything. There's always a choice in life, you just have to decide if you're willing to pay the price. Everything has a price."
 
For a moment he looked like he was ready to just blow the man off and try storming into the building again instead of giving him what he wanted. It was prying, and wasting time, and he didn't have the patience for it. Besides that who knew how long it would take Celeste to do something completely hair brained. The girl had perfect sense sometimes, but every so often she seemed to need to sling her wits away just to see how far he'd go to bring them back. Giving up in the middle of Zombot Street, meeting with men who sent her dangerous places in the throes of morning sickness.

The annoyed defiance in his eyes faded, and in a few seconds he just looked exhausted as he stiffly sat next to the bike, forcing his eyes to stay open so he wouldn't fall asleep from doing that, though his eyes focused on empty space.

"Ran into each other a while ago. Hit it off. Next thing I know, she pops up on a job I took in Frostschild. She helps me get around despite a leg wound, I pull her ass off the fire. End of the day, city sinks into the ground. In a couple of weeks my relationship does the same, and next thing I know-"

He blinked blankly, startling as if he had nodded off for a part of a second. He flicked some fingers at the knife on the ground, turning it over, and making a face, apparently with a touch more clarity again.

"On and off for a while, we go. Then she hits real hard times. Some bastard gets her daughter. Before I get a chance to figure out what's going down or hunt the fuck down, it's like every whacko with an ego and a sleeveful of voodoo is popping up to screw around with things and 'fix' her. Without asking or telling anyone 'bout it first, of course. So something gets fixed, but leaves me worrying bout her wellbeing. So,"

His voice had started to raise in agitation.

"Her ol' friend decides this is the time to lay into me, I sock him, and she storms off. Two weeks later, I get a call saying she is, in fact, pregnant, tossing her guts up, and oh yeah, decided it'd be an ideal time to go take a suicide mission from some fellah who- oh yeah!- doesn't like unexpected guests. But that's okay, 'cuz then the white knight rode in, slaid the dragon, took the princess home, and everyone without scales lived happily ever after. Upliftin', ain't it?"

By this point, fervor was keeping him well and awake again, and inside his leather glove his knuckles were going white, fist driving itself slowly into the turf.
 
The old man listened patiently, both to what was said, and to what wasn't said. "I'll tell you what, boy. You may think you're her white knight, but she's been doing this stuff since...well, since the last time she looked like she does today. It's an infection, in her blood. She's not able to sit around while some innocent is around. Comes from her family, I think. She was held at the mercy of too many people when she was a kid." He cocked a thumb at the entrance to the club.

"He wouldn't let her do this if she was pregnant. No ways in hells. So I doubt she knows. He can smell a lie on her from a mile away. Hell, this whole crew looks at her like she's their own personal guardian angel. She's done more good in this town than Mr. G and all his gold. But she doesn't -need- anyone to save her, except maybe from her self and her own self inflicted punishments." A deep rattling cough as he spoke. Lifting up a bottle of a high class bourbon, he took a swig and offered it to Rayner.

"You need to figure out why you're here, because I doubt it's because she expects you to save her. Hell, you didn't even know she was here until her friend called. Hadn't spoken to her in what...two weeks. I'd say that's a girl that's decided to live on her own." Another look at Rayner and he grinned again.

"Besides, you look like hell. I doubt you could handle what she's doing right now anyways."
 
Kael started laughing. Not chuckling. Harsh, bitter laughter, the sort that hurt your throat, losing control into a short couple of coughs before he recovered. This following the instant this guy implied he might have considered himself any kind of "white knight." He didn't otherwise interrupt, letting the man go on, but the concept of it was almost too much to bear. He'd practically hissed sarcasm, and he'd gotten this back. Hence a second of wide eyes, followed by the sharp laughter. Cel would have understood. Unlikely anyone without sever antisocial issues mocked the idea of heroes quite so bitterly and frequently as him.

"She don' know," he confirmed. "Mei Lee told me. But she ought to realize she ain't healthy."

He was standing up. Guy probably didn't realize it, but he'd already leaked something real important. Celeste was out doing something stupid already, not just getting set to. Logically, there wasn't anything to follow that besides trying to get the guy to let him talk to this son of a bitch who ran the place. He could have gotten out of sight, and cook up a bit of hell to forcibly see about getting an audience, if he'd wanted, but it would really be counterproductive.

"Saving my ass. I'm here to get her to wear her head straight. Once she's not out trying to get herself killed I can worry about the rest."

He considered storming off after all, since logic and his state of mind were not getting along their best right now, or demanding to be let in since he was short on time, but he managed to restrain himself for a bit. Not to blow it. Even though Cel had gone out somewhere dangerous, yet neglected to take her bike with her. Hell, he didn't even have to make sarcastic comments the guys way about what he could handle. What was the point, anyway?

"That's all that matters right now."

He just watched him, breathing and trying to reign in his emotions. If his eyes hadn't had such heavy bags under them, though, they would have been eyes to terrify even the crazies back in the blood rings.
 
"Now see here, you young reckless food, Our Celestial Star is one of a kind, and if you know her at all, you'd know she has a temper on her when she thinks someone is trying to stop her from what she believes is right." His face twitched for a moment as he tugged on his ear. "Danged thing, I'll never get used to it." he listened for a few moments and chuckled. "Whatever you say, bossman." seems like he had a mic in his ear that let Charlie communicate with him, and that meant that Charlie had been listening to their entire conversation.

"I thought she looked a bit off, but I'm not sure what we can do. She won't forgive us for pulling her out early and there's too many lives at risk." Obviously he knew exactly what Celeste was doing. "Bossman says you can go in. But let me give you this last warning...She's unarmed and has no way to contact us." Charlie was going to be pissed as hell that he'd let that much drop, but he'd seen the boy, he was concerned, and seemed to have an idea of what Celeste could be up to.

"I don't think that even being pregnant will change her that much. If she ended the relationship...it's probably ended."
 
This time when Kael stepped through the boarded doorway, he wouldn't be greeted by armed, angry, bikers pointing guns at him. Just a single armed, angry, biker, but with his shotgun slung over his back and not pointing at Kael. This biker would lead him through the building, down into the basement nightclub, where instead of dim light, loud music and filled with people dancing and drinking, tonight the area would be fully lit, some men would be on a bank of computers and the only sounds would be of the computers and other men checking a variety of weapons, and into an office in the back of the club, overlooking the main floor and bar.

Once Kael was in the office, Charlie would wave a hand at the escort telling him to leave them and indicate for him to take a seat across from his desk. Charlie had indeed heard the entire conversation Kael had had with the doorman and he just looked at the man across from him silently for a few moments, as if sizing him up, then leaned forward with a sigh, interlacing his fingers in front of him on the desk and gave Kael a small smirk.

“Sorry about the earlier greeting. Don't get many unexpected visitors here, don't much like them under normal circumstances, and tonight isn't exactly normal. Didn't want to take any chances, ya know? Anyways. All of what you said to old Mulligan true?”

-------------------------------------

Temara said:
"The bossman won't even need to know you're gone."
Click to expand...
At this, there would be a click behind the mans head, probably causing his eyes to widen and almost get out an expletive before there was a flash and loud bang followed by part of the mans face exploding showering the wall, floor and most likely part of Sam in blood, bone and brain matter.

The man fell forward and hit the ground with a dull thump, leaving an immaculately dressed man, in a finely tailored suit, standing there with the literal smoking gun.

“How many times do I have to tell you people? Do. Not. Touch. The merchandise.”

Sighing in exasperation, like he was so hard done by, he kicked the corpse of Sam's former keeper away from him and looked around him. As if looking for someone else to shoot. Be it slave or slaver. Looking at some slavers, he waved the hand with the gun in the air and indicated to the lump at his feet.

“Clean this mess up. He's bleeding all over my shoes.”

Then he would turn his head, and his gaze would fall on Sam, a half smile forming at the corner of his lips. The kind of smile that made ones skin crawl, along with the look in his eyes. Like he was undressing her and fucking her in his mind already, amoung other things.

Turning to face Sam fully, putting his gun inside his jacket, he leaned over her, grabbing her by the chin, not too rough, but not lightly either, and if she tried to pull away or resist he'd hold firmer and jerk her head, but would say nothing. He turned her head from side to side, inspecting her face in the way one would inspect an animal they were considering purchasing. Releasing her with another exasperated sigh, he'd take a step back, looking over the rest of her, his eyes traveling along every visible curve and bit of skin. When he spoke, his voice would be overly sweet with a hint of annoyance.

“My sincerest apologies for your mistreatment. So hard to find good help these days. All one can find is boorish barbarians who have no idea how to treat a woman and foam at the mouth at a bit of skin.”

He would turn again, this time to a rather large man, about the size of a truck, who had been standing behind him the entire time.

“Get her cleaned up and bring her up to my office.”

A look over his shoulder back at Sam, another full body inspection, then back to the man with a handwave at her face.

“And find out whoever did that. I do not like them being bruised. Lowers the price.”

With that said, the man would walk out of the room without another word or glance back, followed by some slavers and a line of slaves, a mixture of women and children, leaving his man to follow his orders with Sam.
 
She'd barely blinked as the gun went off, and it took her a moment or two further to realize she had bits of human goo attached to her body. A little shell shocked at the cruelty of the man, and yet intrigued at the same time, Sam's brain was having a hard time playing catch up. It was literally a business transaction for him. There was no human element. In the back of her brain, it made her a little more confident about what she was willing to do then. He was like many of her competitors in the business world. They saw only numbers and dollar signs. But as he examined her, she played the meek and docile young girl, even managing a tremble as the scent of the blood reached her nose. Oh god, she was going to puke on his shoes...

But she managed to hold it in, and refused to shiver at the coldness she saw in his eyes. And as he gave the order to be cleaned up, she could only wonder at what he wanted with her. But she remained passive as her lone guard unhooked her hand and lead her to a communal shower where she was stripped down from her clothing and pushed towards one of the stalls with a light command of to not take too long. But as she stood there cleaning, the thought of the man at the foot of her bed had her puking again, and barely able to stand upright afterward. She really needed something in her stomach. But she didn't know if she'd get it or not, so she washed out her mouth with some of the shower water.

"Bleh..."

"You done in there?"

"Yes...I just need a towel, please." Leaning against the wall, she tried to summon up the bodily strength to keep going. She felt as weak as a kitten. Maybe, just maybe she'd rushed into this too quickly. She was sure Rayner would love telling her 'I told you so', even if he hadn't. He never believed anyone could be as reckless as he was. If she got through this in one piece, she was not going to take a single one of these missions ever again unless she was performing at 100%, or so she promised herself.

As the towel was shoved through the curtain, Sam took it and began drying off. The nicely dressed man made her nervous. She thought he'd have no issue killing every single one of the captives if he thought it would save his own ass. She'd just have to make sure he didn't think that, although she had no idea how.

"Thank you." She peeked out from behind the shower stall. "But what am I supposed to---" her jaw dropped, the guard was holding a white sun dress that would drape over her body from shoulder to calf. The image of a virgin sacrifice popped to her mind, and she couldn't help but giggle. Really? She wasn't even sure what to say to that, but she dressed in it anyways, the fit was oddly accurate, only a little tight in the breasts. Once dressed, she wasn't even given her shoes back, but had to pad barefooted to the office of the man where she'd decided that it was likely only one would emerge.

Other than the nice purple and green bruise that was at her temple, and would likely give her a black eye by the end of the night, she was in decent shape if a bit haggard. Her green eyes were bright from the crying she hadn't even realized she'd been doing in the shower, and her skin was fairly luminescent from the decent scrubbing. She looked like a perfect example of a nubile young redhead.

"Here she is, boss." holding Sam, tightly but gently enough not to bruise, by the arm. She hadn't fought him at all, which surprised him after the incident before. "All cleaned up and pretty. Clothes were worthless, so I put her in one of the market dresses"
 
"Well, I haven't seen any princesses or dragons lately," he said dryly with a nod.

While Charlie gave him the boss act, Kael didn't relax. He looked haggard as ever still, but especially now he had the sharp focus back in his eyes, examining the man first, before glancing over the office. He didn't bother to take a seat. That wouldn't help him. Right now he needed to make consciousness as natural and little of an additional stress as possible until he had a chance to sleep. Between his subconscious seeming to want to be a more dangerous place than ever these past two weeks, and the fact that there were things to do, any sleep he might be able to fantasize about wouldn't be long. But this wasn't a new thing to him. He'd gotten used to charging his body up on as little rest as possible to keep him going as much as possible.

As ever, it tended to wear him out and leave him crashing afterward. But too often you just couldn't afford to take the safe alternative.

"So?"
 
That earned Kael a small chuckle and a shrug of a shoulder at his choosing not to sit.

"Well, you never know these days really."

Another moment of silence followed, this time for Charlie to mull over everything Kael had said to Mulligan again, then he de-interlaced his fingers and meaty fist slammed down on the desk, hard enough to make a few items on it bounce. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple.

"Damn that girl. And damn me. I knew something was up from the way she looked. She should have told me she wasn't 100% and I never would have given her this job."

Dropping his hand into his lap, he looked back at Kael, looking him in the eye.

"So. As Mulligan told you, which is more than he should have, but what's done is done, we have no way of contacting her. Now that I know she's pregnant."

He pointed a finger at Kael, his expression half serious.

"Which we'll have to have a little talk about later. But, now that I know. I'll need to pull her out whenever such an opportunity arises."

He half smiled as he thought over what he'd say next.

"She'll be madder than a newly branded mule, as I'm sure you know, but like hell I'm leaving her in there."

His face turned serious again.

"Speaking of which, how much do you know? And how-."

He'd be cut off by a cell phone on his desk ringing. Upon seeing it was the number of one of the men he'd left near where Sam was to watch, he'd answer it on the second ring. A quick glimpse of anger and worry would fly over his features.

"Shit. How long ago? Is it still tracking? Ok. Move closer so you can see the place, but don't get spotted. I'll be right there."

Hanging up, he'd stand up, pocketing the phone as he reached behind his desk to produce and M4 assault rifle. He looked at Kael, speaking to him as he opened the door and walked out of his office.

"The guys I had watching her heard what sounded like a shot a few minutes ago, but we're still tracking her, so it's possible it's nothing at all to due with her. But, I want to be ready if we have to bust in and get her out of there."

Once outside his office door, he'd shout at his men that were doing various tasks.

"Get your shit ready to ride. Schedules been moved up."

He looked back over his shoulder at Kael with a sigh and a shrug.

"Guess you're gonna go one way or another, so grab your stuff from outside and come on."

---------------------------------

Without looking up from something he was doing on a computer, the Boss waved a hand dismissively at his man.

"Bring her here, take it off and leave us."

The man would walk Sam to in front of the desk, simply slip the shoulders off the dress and let it fall to her feet then leave.

The Boss would leave Sam standing there, completely nude, as he continued doing whatever it was he was doing on his computer, looking over to a pile of papers every so often. After several minutes, he leaned back in his expensive leather chair, costing more than most peoples cars, and looked up at Sam as if just remembering now that she was there.

The hair raising smile was back, wider this time though, as his eyes slowly traveled along this nubile young redheads curves, taking it all in. Not needing to even undress her in his mind this time. Another few minutes passed, he said nothing as he fucked her with his eyes.

Finally, he stood up from his chair, walking around his desk without a care in the world and came to stand close behind Sam. Close enough that she'd feel his breath on the back of her neck. His hands would reach around, slowly travel up her hips, over her stomach, up to where they'd cup around her breasts. Squeezing and lifting slightly, as if judging their weight and quality like produce.

"What's your name, girl?"

Releasing her breasts, Sam would feel a hand firmly on her back as he pushed her forward, bending her over the desk. Taking half a step back, but still close enough for her to feel him near, he'd look over her lower body, ass, thighs, and everywhere in between. Again, as if examining livestock. This was all business for him. Sometimes with a bit of pleasure when something special came in like this one.
 
She kept taking even breathes, trying to remain calm, even as she was stripped naked. It wasn't pleasant, but as long as he wasn't looking at her, she could deal with this, she let her mind slip a little back. He was slime, just like her ex fiance. She wasn't about to let this slug unnerve her. Keeping her eyes forward, she let herself slip into a slightly meditative state, her body relaxing as her eyes darted about the room, taking everything in the room in with just her eyes. Much of dealing with the business world was much the same. You observe and become what they want. And for the moment, she was decoration and nothing else. But most of all, she watched him, looking over every inch she could see. Since she knew what she was looking for, she even spotted his shoulder holster. And so she stod there and fought off the chill from standing naked, but she gave no other sign of discomfort. He wasn't worth being embarrassed for.

"Jezzie"

As he stood and slid his hands across her body, she couldn't help the tremor in her voice as she answered him. He didn't even deserve her real name in her mind, but she doubted Jezebel would mind lending her name to keep her a little safer. She did not like this in the least but she fought the wave of nausea that moved through her body at the idea of this so called man touching her anywhere intimately. As he pushed her forward though to bend over his desk, she fought the nausea long enough to see exactly what was on his desk and if any of it would relate. She only got a general idea, but it was good enough. He'd be getting quite a visual too. All along Sam's back, buttocks and upper thighs were faded welt like marks, as if she'd been struck with lash. They were somewhat faded, but recently enough that her body's growth hadn't stretched them yet. It was then she decided to use her nausea to her advantage.

"Oh god, I'm going to be sick!"

Even her voice had that distinct wretch to it as the bile tried to come up while she was speaking. She was hoping that with his sensibility about not wanting anything on his suit earlier that would have him moving away. But she was quick and agile, she compensated for it in her next move. Grabbing the nearest heavy thing she could find, a cast iron paper weight of a golden retriever; who would have thought him a dog lover; she swung her body and the statue right at his head, quickly making any adjustments once he was in her peripheral vision. Even as her right hand swung with the statue, her left hand was moving right for his shoulder harness, to grab the butt of the gun and draw it out. Although it wouldn't be drawn very far, just enough to fire straight into his chest. There was more technique to the grab than to the shooting. Don't need much aim when you're an inch away from a person.

Bang Bang
 
The guy had some sense of humor. And he was rough around the edges a bit, for a businessman. On a normal day, Kael might have liked him. This hadn't been a good day, however, and the fact that maintaining consciousness between adrenaline bursts was becoming a painful, arduous task didn't do much to help it. A muscle in one of his eyes twitched when Charlie pounded on the desk, but the rest of him seemed still as stone, like he might not have heard it at all. In a moment, however, he relaxed against the wall, leaning part of his weight into it and watched the guy berate himself. He didn't find it necessary to cut in to harp on the guy as well, nor to try and alleviate it. He just watched him, bloody red eyes still, lines under them turning pronouncedly dark by now, two black blades that accentuated the less friendly aspects of his eyes at the moment.

He nodded when Charlie started discussing what Mulligan had said about how they had no way of contacting Celeste. Oh, but this guy was also actively getting frustrated about the fact that they'd sent her out in that state. His eyes were getting sharper, but for the moment he was keeping calm. It could have just been from the exhaustion, but the lack of the wall of frustration as before helped, as did his putting his mind to work, running the facts over in his head and analyzing. He wouldn't be the sharpest tool in the shed in this condition, but the reptilian parts of the brain were surprisingly resilient. Even the "talk" for later only got a offhand shrug.

A small taste of that adrenaline surge came as the other man told him to grab his things to go.

His movements were crisp again, and when the boss-man looked back over his shoulder, what he'd see was practically a different person.

"Only what you heard. You can debrief me on the way."

And with that he slipped out by him. Kael wasn't a tall man- more squarely average stature- but he walked quickly, a habit of extending his legs further, longer steps than most people took, the lazy way of covering ground quickly. Now, though, his feet snapped out one after another, and in a moment he'd vanish, blowing out of the place without ever rising above a walk, turning his shoulders to brush his way by where necessary, right out to the lawn, grabbing up his gun and knife, rearming, and finally the duffel. But before putting it on, he discarded the bag.

Charlie might not have known who he was, but anyone who had seen the guy on television- Heaven or Hell repeatedly meant more publicity than he cared for by a long shot, among those who cared for the bloodsport- they wouldn't be surprised to see the sheathed sword come up, strapping on tighter than the duffel it'd been hidden in had. He'd join whatever was gathering to move out as soon as it showed itself, or someone took him along.
 
A deep chuckle accompanied Kael's comment about debriefing. He still wasn't sure what he thought of the young man, though he at least respected his gumption. "Get in." opening the door to a car that had just pulled up to the front of the building. Behind the distant memory model car was eight very burly men on bikes. Once Kael was in, he began the debriefing.

"Police can't handle this, they can't get enough evidence. However, if they can prove the girls were kidnapped then we can at least get them on those charges. We are doing this completely under the radar, but I couldn't stand the idea of losing any more children to this bastard." He continued driving, taking to the streets with a comfortable ease.

"But all those police women don't look like women, let alone like a young vulnerable girl. I don't know what's been going on in her life, but when I saw her last week during a business meeting that we have...she funds our operation to a good extent, she looked like she had when I first met her which was years ago. And I knew that she could pull it off. So she's taken and got a GPS inserted into her skin and she's playing the part of bait. We have no other way to monitor. But that is why the noise makes me so nervous. And if she's is pregnant...well, as much as I don't want to have any other girls hurt, no way am I leaving her in there...you get me?"

It was a bit of a drive, but Charlie didn't say anything more, only pulling up behind another car. Getting out, he moved closer to it and looked at the guys inside. "Anything else happen?"

"No, Charlie. Her heart rate's gone up a bit, but she's only moved around in that building a little bit. From the blueprints you had George get it, it's an old private school and she's been spending the last bit of time in the locker room before she got moved somewhere near the back."

"Damnit. She's somehow gotten herself singled out. Damn girl." If Kael got out of the car, he'd motion him forward. "She's in there, but there will be no heroics. We don't want to end up getting her killed. Got that, dead head? One hair on her head is hurt because of you, I'll make sure your death is a head shot."

The shot heard round the world...or at least down the street.

Bang bang

~~~~

Bang went the gun, covering Sam in yet more blood and guts, although this time because of the small distance between the bodies, it was a small splatter on her torso, just enough to look like it had been she would had been shot, and not the one doing the shooting. As the 'Boss' fell backward, he grabbed her hair, using it to tug her downwards with him,not even realizing he was already dead.

"Darn..." She wrenched her hair free from his hands and scrambled to the door, taking down one of the large swords that was on display in the room, and shoved it through the looping handles on the large door. This was the nicest room in the building, but then it had been the headmaster's office when it had been a school.

"What's going on!?!"

"Boss, you okay!?!?!"

Over and over, they tried beating in the door but the door held. And she couldn't exactly go out into the street naked, now could she? But otherwise she was going to be killed, and there was no way to help the kids. And Charlie had no idea what was going on. She's was up a shit creek without a paddle. For the moment though, she'd keep the door in place and prayed for a miracle.

~~~

Bang bang

"Fuck! Again!? Come on, we're going in!" he wasn't really talking to Rayner, but to his own men. Fuck the job, they were getting their girl out and maybe save a few lives while they were at it.
 
"Hm."

Kael pulled himself into the seat- and bothered to buckle, despite himself- before pulling two small cylinders out of his pocket. He pushed some of the coat aside and turned his hip a little to allow himself decent access to the sawed off hanging where it would normally be nicely covered by the long coat, and opened the thing forward in two. He popped one shell into either barrel, eye balling it up and checking the outdated thing to make sure all was right. He wasn't a gun expert, and didn't have a manual for this model, but he'd looked up enough and gotten something simple enough that he seemed to be able to judge reliably. With a grim nod to the comment of taking things into their own hands, he shut the gun again with a snap.

Kael wasn't exactly trusting of vigilante organizations like this. But he had more reason to give them the benefit of the doubt than to expect the police to ever bother to get off their asses and do something useful. Especially if metas were involved anywhere.

So. Slaving. Children and women.

At least he could understand why Celeste had let herself do something to stupid as to go into this kind of thing untrained, unarmed, and on an unreliable stomach. He couldn't blame her. Even if he could still be angry at her. He told himself it was mostly rational, looking out the window to gauge the sort of area they were passing into, trying to let the motion snap him to his senses a bit as the steady motion threatened to lull him. He seemed stuck in thought, brow scrunched up in frustration as he took it all in and let bloodshot eyes track everything until they mentioned her condition- he snapped to attention then.

He was trying to concentrate, work his body up, and run the facts over in his head as he stepped out and checked it all, shooting a very unamused glance at his comment about him getting Celeste hurt- who had thrown her in there after all, pregnant, ill, or otherwise as far as his knowledge went?- and just about froze when the shot went off.

"Fuck-" he spoke under his breath as the other men reacted to the gun shot quickly, storming in, and his heart skipped a beat.

He went in on their heels, rushing in behind, snapping his dagger out of the concealed holster and keeping it in his left as he followed in after- corridors were not the ideal place to rely on a sword as big as his, especially with friendly folks around- and the right free for his shotgun or anything he might need an open hand for.

Looked like they were going to have to crack this place open fast.
 
It didn't take long before the rest of them were moving along. The hallways were oddly clear. Which made it all the more conspicuous. What in the hell was going on here? First was the classrooms. In each of the biggest classrooms were cot like beds, each with girls or children chained to them. Only a few had woken to the sound of the gunshot, mostly due to the drugs in their system to keep them quiet and docile. The only room with completely wide awake occupants was the last one, where there was one bed conspicuously empty. But no guards.

There were however the sounds of shouts coming from the back of the building. Not more than a handful of men and all clustered together towards the back. As they moved closer to the sounds, the particular noises could be made out.

"I think it's that red head bitch who got him to shoot Travis."

"Nah, that thing didn't look like she could hold a gun, let alone shoot one" But between their argument, they were trying to bust in the door. On the other side of the door, Sam was frantically looking for any evidence of wrong doing as she dug into his computer and hoped that the door would hold. Then she spotted it. A phone! God, why hadn't that occurred to her before?

She dialed a number she knew by heart, and let it ring.

~~~

Outside Charlie's phone was ringing. "Damnit, forgot to turn the danged thing off!" he grabbed it to shut it off, only to see it was an unknown number.

"Who the hell is this?" His phone wasn't unlisted, and he didn't give his number out without getting someone's in return. He motioned the other guys to silence.

"Charlie, it's me. We've got a problem...uhm...I've kinda shot the main bad guy and the rest are trying to beat down the door. I have a gun with four shots left max, and no clothes. Get me the hell out of here. I'd really rather not die naked. From what I can tell there's not more than a dozen men in the whole place. They keep the slaves to be locked up."

"Good girl. Calvary is on its way." If she didn't know, then it was likely they didn't know. Snapping it shut, he motioned to the rest. "Let's go, boys...we got us a precious cargo to save." And forward march, to come right upon a dozen men trying to beat in a thick wooden door. It wouldn't take much before it was a regular firefight, five of the nine men alive going down before the others could turn and look at them. Unfortunately none of them had working firearms. It had all been for show.
 
Kael had known what to expect, but looking at it all he still felt a mite nauseous. The women and children- drugged, but in surprisingly good condition. His mind had come expecting all states of abuse and depredation, jumping ahead of itself in concern. Still, he felt one thing very keenly, even as fixated on Celeste and exhausted as he was. He was angry as hell.

He wished he could have stopped at every bed, but the thinking part of his mind told him armed men were still in here, and that he should be sticking with the group that was storming the place, to clear it out. He opted to cover their back, following along as they passed through rooms, ever letting a hand drop to his shotgun. Surprisingly little resistance meant he just kept following, and covering the back, uncertain, expecting something constantly. When the phone rang, it only served to make him tense sharply and spin about, watching for someone to react and come storming after to gun down the intrusion- and instead he heard Celeste's voice, panicked into the other end.

"What's going-"

Charlie hung up and announced it to the crew, and Kael cursed under his breath, charging after. He forgot to watch the back at this point, but packed into the corridors the men beat him there- and the as the shots went off the conflict was over near as soon as it started, and severely one sided. Left with five men standing, the question was if they were still resisting, or being gunned down, or if as they dropped, finding their guns unworking, whether they knew it or not, they'd be giving in.

If they were lucky, they'd already surrendered. Because if men were still standing intent on fighting him off as he caught up to them, and they hadn't already all been shot dead, they were in for an unpleasant surprise. Perhaps nicer than what would have been due to them from the other gunmen, probably more than capable of lethal shots. But the trick was, even with a sawed off barrel and his lack of any practice or natural nack for the guns, they were all in a narrow corridor, at close range.

Where the shotgun was king.

Kael slid his way between the men to the front, falling to a knee and dropping himself low, coming below line of fire from the men behind him, forcing in and coming down half a step in front, already with a wooden stock set to his shoulder.

If anyone was standing and resisting, with their unloaded guns, but who knew what else, they were about to receive one barrel of buckshot somewhere between hip and knee level. Where no one wore a bullet proof vest, very few died, and almost none felt any need to continue resisting.

"YIELD."

He barked, probably not alone. 'Drop them' or 'on the ground' was probably more standard, but you could blame a certain lycanthrope for that. If the hypothetical standing resisting men left did not comply from there, they had the other barrel reserved for them, and probably a couple of nine millimeters from behind him.

He was there to make sure every barrier between him and the voice that had come from the other side of the room was disposed of as quickly as possible, and then he'd be competing for front of the formation with all of the other men to get to that door.
 
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