ADAS
It’s been a week of bullshit.
A week of standing outside, a week of shouting insults and threats to Marat, a week of sweating my motherfucking ass off and getting bit by insects.
“How long do you think he’ll be able to hide?” asks Gregory, getting ready to light his last cigarette.
“It sounds like you’re asking how long we’re going to be out here, and the answer is as long as it fucking takes,” I scoff, snatching the cigarette from him and taking a long drag.
He tries as hard as he can not to glare at me, but I can see in his eyes that what he really wants to do is punch me in the face.
Go ahead,I’d tell him.Make my motherfucking day.At least then we’d be getting some action.
I knew Marat was a pussy, but I didn’t know he was enough of a pussy to not even try to risk escaping. It looks like he’d rather rot in this house than try to leave by any means.
If he rots, so be it. But I don’t have that much patience.
After the eighth day, we finally start to see some movement.
We hear female screams coming from inside of the house. All of the words are in Spanish and some Russian, but I can gather enough of what the Russian women are screaming to understand the situation.
Marat is releasing them, sending them to the wolves.
He isn’t going to let them sneak away, either.
A handful of guards force the women out the front door as the women claw at their arms and faces, begging not to be let out.
They continue to scream, some of them full-on bellowing as the doors are slammed and sealed in their faces.
“He’s letting the women go free!” River chirps, so much naïve optimism in her voice.
“No, he’s sentencing them to death because they’re extra mouths to feed, and they don’t know how to fire a gun,” I reply bluntly.
The glow on her face falls, and her eyes grow saddened and helpless. “I mean, you’re not going to let anyone hurt them, right?” she asks, taking my hand and stroking it lightly.
“No, but we’re not going to treat them like guests either. They’re still a liability, and they’ll slit your throat if you show them any sort of weakness. In this life, kindness is weakness. You can show no mercy,” I say, using the scope on my gun to get a better look at some of the women’s faces.
I’ve seen Marat’s posse out in the city before, but all of these women look new. Knowing him, they’re undocumented and likely being trafficked, which means they’d likely run straight to the police in the event that one of them goes away.
Even if the police were competent enough to aid in the stakeout, I would still have to flee the country before they reached Marat’s hiding place. If the cops received word of a notorious drug lord hiding along the coast, they’d be here in a few short hours, tops.
“You’re not to speak with any of the women, do you understand me?” I say to River, looking her dead in the eyes.
“Adas, none of them speak English. It doesn’t matter if I speak to them or not,” she says as she rolls her eyes.
I have to relax my voice before I reply to her. “It’s not whether or not they understand the words you’re saying. They’ll be able to read your intent from your face. You’re too giving, too compassionate. You’d be taken advantage of very easily.”
She recoils a bit, appearing both hurt and annoyed that I would say such a thing about her. It’s not like I mean it in a bad way or something, but she doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the hour.
About two hours after the women are apprehended, it’s clear that we can’t hold onto them here at the encampment. They’re belligerent and impossible to reason with, not to mention they attempt to escape at least once every thirty minutes.
Santiago meets me over by my van, seeing my bewildered expression as I try to find a placement for these women while maintaining my focus on Marat.
“I have a processing building just an hour south of here. It’s relatively secluded and will at least keep them all safe and contained while we wait out Marat,” he says, pulling up a map on his phone and showing me the location of the building.
“Santiago, there are like sixteen women here. If you get caught with all of them, you’re going to prison for human trafficking in addition to drug trafficking,” I reply hopelessly. “It wouldn’t be possible to keep them all contained without major issues.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You underestimate how much I am willing to risk for such a loyal business partner,” he says, emphasizingbusiness partnerintentionally.