The sound of an engine approaching broke up the little party of men on the porch. The guards patrolling with the dogs hurried back into the jungle to make their rounds. The men congregating together looked at one another and immediately gathered tools and tried to appear busy. A Jeep came up the narrow dirt trail fast and abruptly halted just before ramming into the building. A man wearing light-colored jungle gear leapt out from behind the wheel. He was approaching forty, his dark hair receding slightly, but he wore it cut close to his head.
“Come on, Gedeon, hurry. I gotta show this to you. Make you understand. What I owe the Orlov family is nothing. This makes more money in a single hour than what I owe them in a month. I can pay them back. I’ve got the money sitting in the Jeep.” He indicated the package on the seat.
The other man took the wrapped package and hefted it twice. “It’s all here, Frankie? Because if I have to come back, it won’t be to talk.”
A shiver slid down Meiling’s back. It wasn’t as if the stranger had raised his voice; he hadn’t. That quiet voice was a part of him. Natural. But he was the most dangerous man there. Meiling was certain of it, just from hearing his voice. He didn’t tower over Frankie, although he was taller by an inch or so. His shoulders were wider. His chest thicker. He wore a suit as if it had been made for him and wouldn’t dare wrinkle even in the worst of conditions. She couldn’t see his face, but he had thick dark hair that was the only thing unruly about him.
“It’s all there, Gedeon. But you don’t want to take the money back to Victor Orlov. Let me show you the operation. I never told anyone you were coming. No one knows you’re here. This could get me killed just showing you this, but I’m willing to give you part of my shares for all the times you saved my ass. I mean it.”
Frankie’s voice rang with sincerity and Meiling had to believe him. She noticed that Gedeon shoved the package into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“When you owe Victor Orlov money, Frankie, you have to pay him back or someone like me shows up on your doorstep to collect it. This is the third time. He isn’t a patient man. I stuck my neck on the chopping block for you. Can’t do it again.”
“I know you did. I know you did. That’s why I’m letting you in on this moneymaker. Ground floor, I swear. You take this back to him. Tell him he can come in but he brings us the product.” Frankie sounded eager.
Meiling glimpsed his face. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Gedeon looked bored, but more than that, with the angles and planes of his face, the dark shadows on his jaw, he looked invincible. He walked with a fluid grace, flowing over the ground with an easy stride that made him appear to be part of nature. Her heart began to pound, and she had to concentrate on her breathing to get it under control. Did Frankie have any idea what he was dealing with?
The other men moved out of his way, showing him respect, but she doubted they really understood they’d brought a killing machine into their midst. She knew what he was. She didn’t have to see him up close. She didn’t have to look into his eyes to see what he was. She recognized him just by the way he moved. She didn’t know what he was, what kind of title he held, but she didn’t want to know. He was too dangerous to contend with. She wasn’t going to get herself killed or captured.
Meiling went motionless, locking her body in a frozen stillness that made it nearly impossible for anyone to spot her. Only her eyes moved, taking in everything around her. She heard Frankie explaining to Gedeon the business, how they kidnapped women from the clubs and brought them here to the jungle, where they were trained to serve men. They were rented out while they were in training, making good money, and when they were sold at auction, they made huge amounts of money. The supplies were endless. They could get women or teens easily from anywhere, all over the country. The money was better than drugs or arms.
“Look at them,” Gedeon said softly. “These are human beings. Look at the way you’re treating them. They have bruises all over them. They’re chained to the beds. We don’t have slaves anymore, for God’s sake.”
Frankie shrugged. “Why not? We can have anything we want out here. No one knows. No one cares. We can do whatever we want to them. They can be replaced like that.” He snapped his fingers.