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“We’ve found the location, in Bulgaria, we believe the Todorova brothers, along with whomever they work for, are using as a distribution center of sorts for trafficking victims.”
“The Todorova brothers?”
“It was in the brief.”
“I haven’t read it. I’d prefer if you brought me up to speed.”
“Sure,” I said, pulling out my mobile and checking to see if I’d received messages from Marchand or Z. When I saw none, I took a seat. Ares did as well.
“The Jacov cousins turned out to be brothers. Ivan and Dimitar Todorova. Ivan, before we’d uncovered his real identity, gave us a name for Mitskovski’s killer. However, we’ve yet to find such a person. Z is working on it. Or rather, Z is working on finding someone who can help us establish leads as to the origin of the container we believe originated from Syria or Iraq.”
He nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
“On the Bulgarian front, from what we’ve seen on the overheads, the operation in Lesovo is quite elaborate. I had a videoconference with Ambassador Marchand yesterday afternoon, asking for support in order to stage a raid.”
“But you don’t want to do that until you’ve tracked the other container.”
“Right.” I sighed. “However, each day that passes without action means God knows how many more victims are being moved out of Lesovo and into the hands of people who will exploit and perhaps kill them.”
“Where can I be of most use?”
I was stunned, but perhaps I shouldn’t have been. “Isn’t your focus on Felixstowe?”
Ares shook his head. “We have no leads presently. No idea where the ten containers were actually headed. Each of the delivery locations on the manifests was an abandoned industrial complex or warehouse. We do have eyes on all ten, but so far, there’s been no action.”
“And the victims?”
“In the process of reunification.”
“I understand Luisa Reeve was rescued?”
Ares nodded and took another sip from his cup. “That was a win.”
I decided to address the rather large elephant in the room, as they say. “When are the profilers arriving?”
“Within a few days. I’m not certain exactly when.” He set his cup on the table beside him and leaned forward. “While we’d accomplish the most if they stayed here in Shere, we don’t have to work it that way.”
I leaned forward as well. “While I appreciate your concern and consideration very much, too much is being made of this. I’ve worked with Mayhem before, not that I’ll be working with him when he arrives. Regardless, it is not necessary to accommodate me. I assure you, there will not be an issue.”
“Wren would disagree.”
“Argh. Wren is making an idiomatic mountain from a bloody molehill. I must insist we drop this subject and move on to things that are actually important.”
“Good morning,” said the woman whose name I’d just spoken, joining us in the library. “God, that coffee smells good. Is there coffee?”
“Fresh pot in the kitchen,” Ares responded.
“I’ll get it,” said Wilder, who came in behind her. “While I’m at it, anyone else need anything?”
“No, thanks,” I said.
When her husband left, Wren took a seat. “How are you, Ares?”
“Fine. Thanks for asking.” He looked over at me and smirked. Then he chuckled.
“What?”
Rather than answer, he flared his nostrils in the same way I realized I’d just done.
