The Trouble in Times Square Affair: Chapter 9

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

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“I told you he wasn’t dead!  He’s coming around.  He works for the Claibornes, KILL HIM!”

Napoleon was splayed out on his back on the snow – covered ground, head spinning from an unexpected blow, surrounded by several voices all raised in a combination of fear, anger and excitement; but hearing that command forced his eyes open and made him throw up his hands defensively as he used his legs to slide away from that voice.  “No!  I don’t work for the Claibornes!”  He looked around quickly to see five young women who appeared to be in their mid – teens to early twenties who, like him, were woefully underdressed for the weather.  “My name is Napoleon Solo and I work for the United Network Command for Law Enforcement.  I’m investigating the Claibornes.”  He smiled briefly to show, he hoped, that he meant no harm.  “May I ask: Who are you young ladies, what are you doing here, wherever here is, and what do you know about the Claibornes?”

One of the women was holding a mean – looking tree branch like a club and he assumed she was the one who had clocked him.  “I’m Sue and the Claibornes bought us from Snakeheads and are holding us captive until they sell us.”  She gestured at her companions.  “We’re the last of a group that originally numbered seventeen.  Back in China, we all wanted to come to America, but the government wouldn’t let us.  There were rumors that for a price, certain people could smuggle people wanting to leave out of China and get them to the US with the understanding that we would be able to pay them out of the money we would earn working in either restaurants or people’s homes.”

Another woman said, “My name is Lilly.  What Sue says is true.  We all met when the smugglers got us together to leave.  When we were in the middle of the ocean, we were told that the price to get us into America was now much higher than what we each had agreed to and when we said it was too high, we were told that the only way to rid ourselves of that debt was to allow ourselves to be sold into slavery so that they could get their money immediately.  When two of the group said they wouldn’t do it, the Snakeheads grabbed them and threw them over the side.  After that, we were all too afraid to say anything.”

Sue continued.  “We hoped we would at least be treated well, but Mr. Claiborne brought us here and keeps us locked up.  We barely get enough to eat and when he brings buyers here, we are made to stand while they look us over like farm animals and decide who they want.  A couple of men made it clear what they wanted girls for, so we decided to try to escape.  We were finally able to pick the locks and get out of the house tonight, but we don’t know where we are!  Please help us!”  

Meanwhile, back at the “hospital” …

Dr. Rozhdestvo and her grandfather Nick were sipping tea in her office when they heard a noise from her patient’s room.  She put her cup down to go investigate and found the young man had sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  “Mr…Kuryakin, is it?  You need to lie back down!”  She had stretched out her arms as she approached him with the intention of gently pushing him back onto the bed, but the sudden look on his face froze her in her tracks.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” he demanded.

Nick appeared in the doorway.  “Now, now, Son, don’t you snap at the doctor who fixed you up.  Your partner Solo explained why you’re here.  Remember getting in my truck before you passed out?”

Illya nodded as that memory returned.  “Thank you for helping me, both of you.  Where is Napoleon now?”

“I dropped him back where I found you two.”

“Then I ask you to do the same for me.  He will need my help.”

“You really need to rest,” Nastya admonished, “I must insist…”

Illya waved his hand to cut her off.  “Napoleon needed to rest, also, but he has left to do his job and I must join him.”  He turned his head to look at the Santa doppelganger.  “Please take me.”

Dr. Rozhdestvo was touched by his determination to go.  “I have something to give you.  Wait.”  She hurried back to her office and when she returned, she had her hands full.  “You’ll be wanting these.”  She placed a black wool, crocheted hat on his head that covered his ears and wrapped the matching scarf around his neck.  She then handed him two boxes of .38 caliber ammunition and lastly, a gun.  “It’s unloaded.”  When his eyes widened in surprise, she added, “One would be foolish to live so near the woods in a sparsely populated area in a house with medical grade narcotics without protection against four and two – legged predators.”

Illya grinned at that answer and said, “Thank you.  You will be reimbursed for everything you have done for my partner and me.  UNCLE will see to it.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Moy ded skazal mne, chto ty russkiy. My, russkiye, dolzhny derzhat'sya vmeste. (My grandfather told me you’re Russian.  We Russians have to stick together.)  Good luck to you.”

“Spacibo.”

At the same time in New York City…

Exactly thirty minutes after the last call, the phone began to ring again.  Randall swallowed the last of his wine and picked up the phone.  “Hello?”

“I need two answers now, Claiborne,” Shiv’s voice said across the speaker.  "Five of your assets escaped and are talking to Solo now so do you want him dead and if yes, do you want the girls dead, too?  If that answer is yes, I will require another ten grand.”

Claiborne’s mind was racing.  He knew that the women must have told Solo that they were enslaved and being held prisoner.  Any one of them could put him and his wife away for years, but all five would put them in jail for life.  He was ruined; it was over.  All he could do was save his beloved Marjorie.

“Claiborne?”

“Kill them!  Kill them all!” he yelled before Adams could disconnect the call.

He ran past his wife as Waverly and Adams pulled their weapons and broke out the window overlooking the alley below their home.  “Stay back or I’ll jump!”

Marjorie was beside herself.  “Randy!  Randy, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, My Love.  Waverly, listen to me.  Marjorie had nothing to do with anything.  It was me, all of it!  I’ve been a human trafficker for years and she knew nothing about it, do you hear?  Nothing!” He looked at Marjorie.  “I’m so, so sorry, Marjorie.  I love you so much, but I can’t do it, I can’t drag you down with me.  Waverly, with me gone, Marjorie will be contacted by the killer for payment.  Make sure your agents are there to apprehend him.”  Before anyone could do anything, Randy jumped out the third-floor window, falling like a ragdoll and landing with a sickening crunch on the ice – covered cement.

Marjorie screamed and fainted dead away.