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Redemption Lost Page 16
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Without a word, he motioned her to the office. Once inside, he called Division for cleanup. The two guards would need to be detained. They’d know too much. He pulled out a few strips of cloth from his go bag and gagged and blindfolded the men.
They made their way back to the senator’s file room. Marybeth’s heart was still pounding, but Jeremy acted like it was business as usual. Since they took care of the guards, they would have until early morning to scour the files. They would need it.
“Thank you for helping me.” She put her hand on his arm.
“That’s why we go in as teams—to back each other up. There may come a time when I need you to back me up.”
Marybeth snorted and got to work despite feeling drained from the fight and lack of sleep. In her third cabinet, she hit the jackpot. “I think I’ve got something here.” She grabbed a chunk of files and put them on the table. Jeremy was immediately next to her. She handed him one and she took one.
Inside were shipping documents.
“Yes,” Jeremy said. “Shipping manifests.” He looked closely. She moved in to look too. He gave of huff of disgust, and she moved back.
“What is this? Everything’s redacted.” He frowned.
Marybeth looked at one of the documents from her folders. Sure enough, everything important had been redacted. The destination, however, wasn’t: the United States, Red Hook, New York. She read it out loud.
He sifted through the documents quickly as if he hadn’t heard her. He huffed and then growled. “Everything important has been stripped clean except the signature of Senator Miller and Senator Alvarez.” He shook his head in distaste. “We only have two days, and our one big lead gives us this? Nothing at all?” His face contorted into a look of utter despair.
She flipped through the papers in front of her, not wanting to stare. The same thing greeted her. Old redacted documents from five years prior. It was like the senator had decided not to keep track of them anymore. “They must keep electronic copies now,” she mused. “These are all old.”
“Or we simply haven’t found the right documents.” Jeremy said, turning back to the file cabinets.
“We need the name of the company. What they were shipping and the shipping method. They’ve redacted all that.”
“Maybe they missed some documents,” he said, running his hand roughly through his hair. “We need to keep looking through the rest of the files.”
She nodded and they both went on scanning through file after file, then putting them all back in their proper places.
Jeremy slammed a file drawer shut. Marybeth gawked at him. His face was red with anger and frustration. Folders were all over the desk and floor. He’d started dropping them when they held no clues apparently. So much for not leaving a trace that they’d been there.
He’d calmed her and soothed her several times already. It was time for her to calm him. He was racing through the next drawer. “Jeremy. We aren’t going to find anything.”
“We have to look at each paper. There must be something. There has to be.” He didn’t slow, just continued to throw files to the floor, papers scattering about.
“You won’t find anything here. We need to go look somewhere else.”
“No. We will finish.”
She looked at the clock. The shift change was only minutes away. “The next shift of guards will be here in less than ten minutes. They’ll notice the two missing guards right away.”
“We have to find something. We’ll take them out too.”
“There is nothing to find. Nothing. I’m sorry.”
His face was a mask of despair when he looked at her.
“We’ll come up with a new plan.” She moved toward him like an animal control officer moves toward a growling dog. “Right now, we have to go.” Her hand landed on his arm. He didn’t move away. She took another step closer and put her arms around his solid frame. “We will find her, but not in these files.”
He relaxed, his sobbing body leaning heavy on her.
“We’ll find her. You’ll see. We will,” she whispered into his ear, wishing she had more time to give him comfort. She saw now how he loved Christy. “We’ll find her.” She drew back, the time pressing on her. Any minute, the new guards would arrive.
“Let’s go.”
He nodded. They grabbed their packs and went out the way they came. Jeremy texted Ace to have him re-arm the building and let the cameras roll once more.
They walked out into the night, moving in silence until they’d passed the Capitol building and walked out onto the stunning, lit up National Mall. Each monument towered above everything else in the area. Even though Marybeth had been in D.C. for half a year, she still stood in awe at the spectacle. She took a deep breath in of the crisp air as they headed out. Her mind cleared and something occurred to her.
“There’s one resource we haven’t fully exploited.”
“What’s that?” Jeremy asked.
“Senator Miller. We know they’re working together on something they don’t want any trace of. We know Alvarez threatened Miller with blackmail. Miller and Alvarez signed those shipping documents. Miller knows something and we need to find out what.”
* * *
CHRISTY
When Christy got back to the main yard, there were girls in various stages of pregnancy hanging out there, sitting on benches and at tables or walking on the paths. What was going on? Were these girls pregnant when they were brought here? Were they pregnant drug addicts and came here to get clean? She was kidnapped, though. Were they too? Did they purposely kidnap pregnant girls for some reason? Why would they do that? So many of them were pregnant. What did it mean?
All she knew was that she had to get out of there as fast as she could, but she couldn’t leave without Carrie. She had to find her. She was determined to get as much information as fast as she could. She saw an open spot on a picnic table bench. Five girls sat there laughing and talking. They looked friendly enough and they all had medium-sized bellies.
Christy figured they’d be the most amenable to conversation, with no morning sickness anymore and not yet so uncomfortable with their size that all they could think about was getting that baby out of their belly.
“Hi,” she said in a shy tone. The girls stared up at her and smiled.
“We haven’t seen you around, newbie.” A girl who looked no older than sixteen said.
So they were a small enough community that they knew everyone. “Yeah.”
“I bet you didn’t last long in the named houses.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Look at you. Why wouldn’t any parent want their baby to look like you?
“Like me?” What was she talking about? What did her looks have to do with anything?
“Get a sperm donor with the same hair and eyes and bam! You are the hottest thing on the market.”
Christy thought she saw one of the girls narrowed her eyes at her after that comment. She looked around and silently analyzed what she was seeing. A good eighty percent of the girls showed signs of pregnancy. The other twenty, were they simply in their first trimester and not showing?
One of the girls said something about being chosen. That word. They’d said she’d been chosen. Chosen for what? Something suddenly clicked and she understood.
Designer babies.
That’s what this was all about. Senator Alvarez ran a baby making factory. So he’d been looking for someone like Suzy: black hair and green eyes. What would he say and what would he do when he discovered she didn’t look that way at all? This wig only stayed nice for so long without proper care. Care that she couldn’t give it because she couldn’t take it off. Her contacts needed proper care and cleaning also. They were long-lasting, but they still needed maintenance.
She looked around. That’s when she noticed how each girl was pretty much unique. She realized Alvarez must have used the app for two things: satisfying his needs and finding and collecting girls who fit the particular desi
res of their customers. But not all the girls came from the app. They came from a wide range of places: alleys, dysfunctional homes, drug houses, rehab houses.
The list kept growing as possibilities raced through her head of all the places where he could find girls who felt unloved and uncared for, that wanted and lacked in some way. He catered to those girls. Just as he catered to his customers.
The girl slapped her hand on the table, bringing Christy’s attention back to her. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I said, when did you get here?”
“I arrived a few weeks ago,” she said, sticking with the story Nurse Lanora had given her. In reality, she’d been here no more than a couple days. How long had she been in the container before that?
The girl whistled. A breathy whistle. “Only a few weeks? That’s a rare thing indeed. I’ve only seen it happen a couple of times.” She scowled.
“Really?”
“Really.” She nodded. “Very rare.”
“So, you’ve been here a long time?” Christy asked.
“Going on my fourth year.”
This had been going on a long time, then. “So I keep hearing people talk about how glad they are to be in the numbered houses—what happens in those named houses?”
The leader of the pack laughed, and it seemed to cause a domino effect with the other girls at the table.
“Well.” She got a twinkle in her eye. She was about to lie. “They barely feed you. Make you work all day in local coal mines. They constantly poke you with needles for their experiments.” She tapped her finger on her lips. “And if you don’t get chosen within a year, you just disappear.”
While Christy’s attention was on the girl speaking, she could see the other girls grin. She had unwittingly stumbled into a little clique. The question was—did she want them to believe she was weak or did she want to rule the roost? Which would be most beneficial? While demons of her past liked to taunt her about her high school experience, and part of her, a very small part, still feared it, she would not give into it. Today was nothing like then. If she allowed them to believe she was weak, she would know that in truth she had the upper hand. She also knew that for every bully there was a sweet soul waiting to rescue the bullied.
By becoming a victim, she would attract the type of person she needed to befriend. The person who had a keen eye but a soft heart. She slapped a hand over her mouth and took a quick intake of air. “No,” she gasped through her hand.
“And,” the bully continued. “Those guards on the wall and standing around us down here, they would shoot you if they knew you were asking about those houses.” She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.
“I had no idea.” Christy forced herself to look shocked, her eyes flitting about.
“Obviously, they didn’t tell the truth about what you have up here.” The girl wrapped her knuckles on her temple. “Or whatever family picked you wouldn’t have. But don’t worry. We’ll watch out for you.”
“Oh, thanks.” Christy plastered a scared rabbit look on her face. A bell rang. One clear, clarion call. The girls stood as if soldiers.
“You better hurry back to your house,” the girl said. “If they catch you outside your first day, you’ll get in a lot of trouble.” This girl was too much, but Christy had to play into her new persona. She would have to run.
She ran back to the house and could hear their giggles behind her. She fought every urge she had to turn around and pummel them. As she ran inside, the nurse, Winifred, met her. “Oh my, Ryann. What happened?” Her accent was endearing and made Christy want to trust her more for some reason.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to leave.”
Winifred pulled back the drapes and looked out. Christy was sure she would see those girls still sitting there laughing.
“You would be wise to stay away from those girls. They are trouble.” She frowned, and worry edged her dark eyes.
“What do you mean? Was I allowed to go out today?”
“Of course.” She took Christy’s wrist, placing two fingers over her veins. Christy tapped into her biofeedback training and all she knew about beating a polygraph and spiked her heartrate so Winifred would think she was upset.
“Your pulse is racing. Don’t you listen to those girls. They will lead you wrong every time. It’s only time for mid-morning snack. Come into the kitchen. The other girls will be here soon. It’s best to stick with your housemates.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Calm yourself. Or I won’t be able to get accurate readings on your tests later today.”
“Tests?” A bit of true fear sprang up in her heart.
“There’s nothing difficult about them or that you should fear. There are a few blood tests and a physical fitness test to make sure your body is healthy enough to carry the child.”
Christy’s pulse ratcheted on its own. “I’m taking those tests later today?”
“Not if you’re worked up like you are right now. You need to calm yourself.”
She had to make sure those tests didn’t happen today. Winifred led her into the kitchen where Matron Mara stood next to a pan of brownies and a pitcher of milk.
“Have you been enjoying your first day?” she asked.
Christy closed her mouth and nodded.
“Those bullies out there already picked up on her.”
“You mean Cassandra and her crew?” There was a satisfied glint in Mara’s eye.
“You know it.” Winifred huffed.
“I’m sure they meant no harm.” The matron’s eyes fell hard on Christy.
“I don’t know why you always stick up for those girls. They’re trouble.”
“They’re young.” The other girls came scampering in.
“You know,” the nurse said as they all sat down and were given a snack—an apple, a cheese stick, and a small brownie. “You left Ryann to her own devices out there. She ended up with that bully Cassandra.”
“Oh, no,” Teresa said. “We looked for you after chores and couldn’t find you.”
“Yeah,” Cindy said. “We looked for you. Where were you?”
“I—I—I went out front. No one was there, so I wandered around.”
“You stick with us,” Lyssa said. “Ignore that Cassandra. She’s awful.”
“She and her little posse,” Tammy said, her face reddening. “It’s like being in high school all over again.”
Christy wondered if Tammy had been bullied. The determined look on her face made Christy think she had been. She wondered if she could trust anything that Cassandra had said, even the stuff about her looks and being chosen. But it was impossible to discount what she saw right in front of her. All the girls in this room were distinctly different.
It had been the right decision to play weak. Her house rallied hard for her. They all walked out together into the courtyard after cleaning up their dishes. Her ankle bracelet rubbed harshly on her ankle as she walked. She’d have to find a way to get that off her leg at some point. She’d examine it later. Tammy brought some cards, and they sat at a table and started to play. The game was the last thing on Christy’s mind, though.
“I thought there were people in those named houses.”
“There are.” Lyssa said absentmindedly. None of the girls looked up from the game.
“But earlier, when I was walking around, they seemed empty.”
“Oh, yeah,” Lyssa said. “During the day they all go to work.”
So what Cassandra said was somewhat true.
“Except those who are rehabilitating,” Tammy was quick to point out. “They’re mostly in the basements kept under lock and key. It was horrible for me. I tried to run away a thousand times, but there’s no way out.” Tammy shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“I think this place is awesome,” Cindy said.
So there were two places Carrie could be. Would she be fighting and therefore find
herself in a dungeon, or would she be compliant and so have to work?
“Oh, so it’s not like here where you just hang out?”
“No. You have to earn your keep until you’re chosen,” Lyssa said. “Then the high life. Some of the girls over there,” she gestured to the named houses, “get pretty jealous. Especially of people like me and Cassandra who are chosen over and over again.”
“I can imagine, if it’s so much better here. So you get there one day and the next day you work? Can’t they choose to leave if they’re never chosen?”
“Hmm. I’m trying to remember,” Lyssa said. “You guys remember?” They stopped playing the game.
Only one of the girls had come in willingly without problems that needed to be addressed. Cindy.
“Well, I think if I remember right, all the people who need the same kind of help are grouped together in the same house. They’re usually put straight into the basement. I didn’t have anything that needed to be fixed. I’m pretty sure I was like you, where they gave me a few days to adjust, and I just sort of hung out in the house. Then I went to work.”
“Oh, maybe that’s what Cassandra was talking about when she said I wasn’t allowed to leave the house.”
“I don’t remember not being able to leave. In fact, I think I did. But I can’t really remember. So you’re like me and wanted to be here?”
“What do you mean?” Christy definitely needed some clarification on this one.
“If you had some kind of a problem then they would never have sent you straight here,” Lyssa blurted.
“Oh.” What could she say? What could she make up that would be bad enough to make her want to come to this compound willingly? She fidgeted, hands dancing. Cindy put her hands over Christy’s.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell us. I understand. I had everything at home as far as material possessions go, but my parents always fought, and my dad started hitting me too. I had to get out of there.” Christy slid her hand out from under hers and patted her back, but said nothing. She didn’t dare make up some terrible lie when her truth was more terrible than any lie Christy could come up with. Then again, maybe that was the lie they fed her while they were brainwashing her. She looked over at the named houses. “Why numbers? Why names?”