“Gentlemen, please take your seats.” She bowed quite formally, gesturing for them to seat themselves. They quickly complied. Then she sat.
“I am Evangeline Rojas, Esquivel Rojas’ sister. I help him run the rancho when he is gone, and as he is attending his niece’s wedding, I have been tasked to greet you and show you what we have here.”
Enemario began to address her in Spanish, even though she had spoken to them in perfect English. She stopped him, exposing her outstretched palm.
“Please, only in English.”
“Very well. Your brother has a great reputation. I have some cousins in San Diego who recommended this house is a special refuge for my friend here, who has gone through a recent divorce. I was told this place is where wealthy men could come and experience something they perhaps couldn’t experience in California.”
Evangeline raised her eyebrows slightly and nodded her head. But she waited for Enemario to continue.
“First, I need to clarify something. We are not wealthy clients or businessmen. We are working men. But this is a special occasion for Roger here, and we all are willing to chip in so he can have an experience. It has been a very long and arduous divorce.”
Brady had to look at his shoes. Enemario had been doing such a good job acting his part that he was going a little bit too far, and Brady felt like he was going to explode in a peal of laughter. Watching Riley cross and uncross his legs several times, Brady picked up that he felt the same way. So he created a pattern interrupt.
“Ma’am, they tell you that it’s for me, but it’s really, you know, I think they want to have some fun too.” Brady grinned at his buddies as if looking for confirmation.
Carter was not happy. Brady noticed that he felt very ill at ease. Part of this had been staged so he could monitor everything from the vehicle, record the rotation of the security for the ranch, and be available in case something horrible and unexpected were to occur. He’d be joined by John while Riley and Enemario would stay close to Brady, the guest of honor.
Evangeline Rojas seemed to also notice Carter’s sour demeanor.
“And you, sir? What about you?”
Carter leaned back in his chair and drilled her with a look that even surprised Brady. “I’m going to be manning the van, ma’am. I’m going to wait there if you don’t mind. This isn’t really my thing. It’s for my friend here.”
Evangeline shrugged her shoulders and gave a brief acknowledgement with her forehead. “We operate something special here. All our girls are different ages, all different races, and from many different countries too. Many of these girls have come to us as orphans, street kids, some of them addicted to drugs. Some of them come to us sick and starving, having been abandoned or kicked out of their houses or left penniless. My brothers and my foundation, Dragon Limited, take these women and restore them to health. We teach them courage, just like a fire-breathing dragon. They are seen by doctors, well cared for, and we help them get on their feet. Some of them meet husbands and go off and have a wonderful life. In fact, we encourage it.”
Brady’s anger was rearing up, getting ready to explode.
“What I’m telling you is that these women have been completely rehabilitated. They take their legal and registered profession seriously, and of course, the more experienced women are a little bit older. We don’t encourage young girls into this profession, of course, but we also run a school and an orphanage.”
She paused for a few seconds, assessing their reaction.
“Occasionally, our women get pregnant. And if they want to keep the baby, we allow this. We pay for all their medical bills, and we make sure the baby is well cared for until she can care for them herself. My brother has won lots of awards for his humanitarian efforts.”
Brady was stunned. It was certainly a new wrinkle on the oldest game in the world. They were definitely running a house of prostitution, but they were also running a baby farm.
He was glad Rojas was not sitting across the table. He was glad it was his sister instead, because unless attacked, Brady would never willingly attack a woman. Rojas, though? This night would be his last on earth.
Chapter 13
This part of the plan diverged when Rojas didn’t arrive at the ranch. The idea was to make the appointment for Brady, just so they could get inside the compound without resorting to violence. Once inside, they’d grab their mark, drag him out, and then drive away. Of course, lots of things had to happen in the meantime, like covering the escaping parties, setting incendiary and explosive devices, and using their new drone to drop small flash bombs for enhancing the confusion. They hadn’t anticipated that Rojas’ sister would be the one giving them their tour.
But Carter and John retired to the van, just as originally planned. Enemario and Riley remained close, chatting with some of the help and turning down offers by several of the ladies who were there. Their job was to collect intelligence, especially Enemario, who could listen to private conversations in Spanish. If they could, they wanted to connect with someone on the staff who might be dissatisfied. Someone who would help them.
So far, Brady was told, that hadn’t happened. But they were going forward anyway with what they could do. All they needed was one little break, a tiny miracle, and their fortunes would change. No one was giving them information on when Rojas was to return, either. It was a guess. This part of it was frustrating to the team.
With all that in play, Brady was led to another room and asked to wait. He knew this was going to be difficult, trying to convince someone who was an innocent, but very much involved in the business, to help him. He wasn’t sure he’d get much cooperation. But the hardest thing for him to do was be cruel or mean or demand help from the woman he had chosen to see. He picked one who looked extremely young, perhaps slightly underage. A younger girl would be more susceptible to help him. The older ones might know the score a little better and report him.
The door to the bedroom opened slowly, and the pretty little thing who marched in didn’t look anything like the photograph. In fact, Brady was certain she was a different girl altogether. She was probably no more than about fourteen years old, way under five feet tall, like a true child. He found it challenging to even look at her; he was so ashamed she thought of him as a pervert. But he pressed on with his mission, which was to convince her that he could help her escape, and he honestly believed he could.
She was barefoot, dressed in a white smock. Her long, silken hair shone, freshly brushed. She wore hot pink lipstick, which was so out of place on this young woman working in such a dangerous profession, if it could be called that. Brady hoped she had a gentle, innocent spirit and was perhaps going to be more trusting than most. That was a good sign.
When she approached him, she took his hand.
“Would you like to come to the bed, Mr. American?”
“Roger. You can call me Roger.” They had decided as a team it would be easier if he used his last name.
“But we should go to the bed now. I have things I can show you.”
Although she was trying to pull him up to standing position, he remained fixed in his chair. He pointed to a small settee about four feet away from him.
“I’d like you to sit down, please, and I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes first.”