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This morning. That’s when I was told I was no longer needed. Forced to accept my rehab will take me off the front line. I’m not moving to behind a desk. I gave up too much to wind up behind a fuckin’ desk. “How?” My voice carries discern, but intrigue allows me to ask.
“Before we get to the hows, what we’re offering won’t be easy.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Because everything up until now has been exactly that.”
The small man’s lips pull tight. “It won’t require a badge. You’ll get no medal, no… recognition for what you’ll have to do.” My face tightens. “It will require you to operate in the shadows.”
The shadows? “Is that where you two are?”
They both look at me. Their joint silence giving me myanswer.
“Why would I want that?”
“There’s a virus spreading. We need to stop it.”
A virus? “Who?” I can’t tell if the sleep I need is dampening my ability to understand what these strangers are saying.
The tall one steps closer on the other side of the bed. He opens up his worn jacket, pulling out a large envelope. He uncurls it, pulling out a picture, then drops it on my lap.
Looking between both men, I then look down.
“Costa Affini,” he says. “Backed by billionaires and gangsters. He’s moving cargo into Amsterdam from the UK.”
Costa? Like the coffee? What a stupid fuckin’ name. “Let me guess. You don’t know how he’s doing it?”
Another picture is slapped on my lap. No expression across the tall one’s face. “Intel suggests he’ll move on criminal gangs, have them mule for him. At present, we know he’s got eyes on these ports, but we suspect an underground operation will be set up imminently.” Two images are fanned before me. With a finger, he points as he speaks. “This one is where it will set off for Amsterdam. And here,” he moves his finger, “is the first location we think they’ll load at once they’re established. We had a man on the inside who confirmed Costa had been there.”
“Had?” I ask.
His face tightens. “His death was unrelated; however, we’ve lost our advantage.”
I pick everything up and hand it back to them. Given the location of the load, I can hazard a guess at whichgangcould be muling. I also know which one will avoid it. “I’m not seeing how any of this can help me.”
With a disingenuous smile, the small one steps forward. “We know you’re good at working alongside criminals.”
“Meaning?” I snap, knowing full well what he means.
“Meaning… we need you to divide, complicate, unpick, and put an end to what Costa’s running. Because it can’t make it here. We need to stop it before it gets into Europe and spreads wider. Otherwise we’re fucked. They’ll be no stopping it.”
“What’s he running?” I’m assuming drugs. Money. Guns. This isn’t anything new.
The two men exchange a look. I know it. I recognise it instantly. Hate. “This.” One final picture is placed before me.
Slowly trailing my gaze, what’s on the image jumps out. My stomach flips, horror mounting with every second I look at it.
“Supply is low, but goddamn it demand is high.”
There’s evil in the picture. I don’t need them to explain what I’m looking at. “Were they forced?”
“Yes. Unfortunately these were, but not everyone is. People will willingly sign up for this if the payout is big enough.”
My head shakes as I try to make sense of it.
“Unlike most criminal organisations, Costa isn’t part of the chain that just supplies the underworld. Medical doctors, lawyers, people of that calibre, that’s who he’s supplying.”
What the fuck?
“This is why we need you.”
