-1-
There is no breakfast in the morning.
The five of us wait in Rayne’s opulent sky level home office. Rayne paces the room in miniature circles barking orders over his Syndicate.
Sara is sprawled on the black carpet face down, unwilling to let her body hold her up. I wanted to say it was unlike her, but Sara is tough as hell until one of her children gets involved. Especially one she’d been carrying nearly every second for the last six months.
Her arm is outstretched from her body and her hand is clamped around Luce’s. He’s sitting on the floor too, looking everywhere but at her.
Minnow sits on the leather couch between Jean and I, switching off sniffling into our shoulders. I sense Jean is just an anxious as I am to do something, but Rayne refuses to let us leave.
I keep my head down and replay the events, looking for some kind of clue. Looking for something I missed.
There was no doubt the Mjollner had done this, but I don't understand how they got out of Mojave. Luce and I had searched the train for 2 hours riding the tracks to the edge of the Sprawl and back. Rayne had shut Mojave down, checking every vehicle on the streets and searching every residence.
But our efforts had come up empty handed.
A patterned knock sounds on the door and Rayne opens it without a second glance to any of us to cover him. Ivy stands on the other side, shadowed by Saint. She brushes past Rayne to Sara. She pulls Sara up and wraps her arms around her.
I catch a glimpse of her distressed face before she buries it in Ivy’s shoulder.
“FUCK!,” Rayne curses and throws his fist into the wall, cracking the paint.
“What ?,” Ivy asks in a trembling voice.
“I just got word one of my heliplanes is missing. It’s was stolen.”
“That’s good, it must have a locator--,” Jean starts
“It does. They found it abandoned in the middle of the desert,” Rayne finishes. “With a red star painted on it.”
Sara starts crying again.
“Sara, please,” he begs.
Another patterned knock sounds on the door and Griffin steps in. Rayne launches a verbal assault on him.
“YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, GRIFFIN! PROTECT MY SON !,” Rayne shouts. “One god damn fucking job, the most important job and I gave it to you even though you come from the Donnelly cunts, I gave you a fucking chance and you let them take my son. Why did you let them take my son ? You let those motherfuckers take my son.”
“Rayne,” Grif’s voice cracks with apology. "I would have laid my life down for him, but--I was afraid they’d-"
Rayne pulls a black handgun out of his desk drawer and puts a bullet in each og Griffin’s knee caps. Grif falls backwards screaming. He’s not gushing blood, the bullet went through bone which means he won’t bleed out and die, but it probably hurts like hell.
Rayne takes one more shot, it bounces off Griffin’s belt buckle and he shoots again, this time Grif goes white and then bright red, his hands go to his groin and he starts screaming in pain like a wounded animal.
“You picked the wrong person to be afraid of,” Rayne sneers. “Get him out of my face.”
Saint easily lifts Griffin and takes him out of the room, a small pool of blood is already being soaked up by the carpet. Minnow, Jean and Luce are actively pretending they didn’t just see Rayne shoot someone’s ball off. Ivy on the other hand is visibly shaken. Only she dares to stare Rayne down, but she’s not stupid enough to say anything to him when he’s like this.
“Those Mjollner assholes want us to panic,” he tell us. “They want us to come begging to them. They want me to make some public plea. Right now only the people in this room know what happened and I intend keep it that way. No one will know they took my son. Nothing changes on the outside. We don’t let them win.”
We nod, but I don’t see how that will work. While Sara had kept the baby locked up with her most of his life, people would eventually notice if they never saw him.
“And you,” he says, gesturing violently to Sara. “You will get your act together.”
Sara stands slowly and on unsure feet launches herself at Rayne, he struggles with her and stumbles back into the wall.
“You don’t tell me how to act when those bastards have my---have my--,” she can’t finish her sentence and digs her fist into his chest.
Rayne grabs her wrists and pins her to the ground and I notice his eyes watering. He stands and wipes them quickly with the back of his sleeve before turning to us.
“The guest rooms are on the second floor, go and get some rest. We need to be alert to put together a reconnaissance plan tomorrow. We will have my son back by tomorrow night.” Rayne says.
He’s lying. It’s a big lie and we all know it
But the falseness gives us permission to sleep. I’m afraid of what will happen when we wake up. The situation barely seemed salvageable when we were all hungover, I can only imagine what it will feel like when we’re sober.
***
“They’re hurting her,” Luce’s urgent voice wakes me.
The silk sheets and goose feather duvet in Rayne’s guest bed lets me sleep dreamless and peaceful. I’d fallen asleep in the same bed as the Dory’s; Minnie sleeping in the middle. While Jean and I had stripped to our underwear, Minnow had changed into a pair of Ivy’s old nightclothes—which only made the arrangement slightly less awkward.
Luce had been asleep in the large chair across from our bed, but now he’s standing in the corner of the room talking with Jean. I’d never seen Jean's bare chest until tonight, his chest has several surgery lines and scars that were probably from his early botched hackjobs.
“She’s fine, little brother,” Jean responds.
“I went to see her…she wouldn't talk to me…and they locked her up with him,” he explains. “I think she’s broken.”
Luce sounds panic and juvenile. Which is new for him.
“They just gave her some drugs,” Jean says. “It’s for her own good, so she can have some peace of mind. It’s the same thing we did to her when you first got hurt.”
I feel Minnow’s hand curl around my shoulder. I turn in bed and see her eyeliner smeared eyes are open, she’s listening to their conversation too.
“But, she’s not sick--,” Luce continues
“No, she’s got something worse.” Jean tells her. “Sorrow.”
“We’ll never be able to find him if she’s like that,” Luce says defeated
“So, we’ll find him without Sara,” Minnow says sitting up. “Atleast I will. Even if it’s the last thing I do. Sara taught us…we’ll be her until she can be her again.”
No one says anything to that.
In the morning we put on some version our same clothes from last night and go back into Rayne’s office. Sara is gone. Rayne and Ivy don’t look like they’ve slept much. Saint stands in the corner of the room like a statue. They’re projecting surveillance footage from all over the town. Rayne points at a projection above his desk and rewinds it.
I watch the projection and see a pair of the Mjollner red Lamborghinis ride into the Mojave gate. One goes to the train station where two figures break into the train, but no one gets on. The other car goes to the airfield and steals the heliplane.
He switches to the hotel feed and watches as the two men with red leather balaclavas steal a car and ride to the airport and take off in the stolen heliplane. The video has a faint sound and at the least we can hear the baby crying.
He is still alive.
Or was still alive.
Rayne keeps rewinding it, but I know he isn’t seeing anything except our failure to protect his family.
“This is sloppy,” Jean says leaning into the projection. “They should have known you’d have a guard. They should have killed us all or else we would have caught them. And look at how long it takes them to break in to the airport. The Mjollner usually use professional killers or street samurai. This could be just a group of rebellious Mjollner. Maybe if we can get in touch with the Mjollner leadership we can get our boy back peacefully.”
“And who is that ?,” I ask. I’d never thought about who pulled the Mjollner strings, they certainly weren’t a public persona like Rayne.
“The Rektor. “ Ivy says.
“Really ?,” Minnow laughs, amused. "That sounds like something from a cartoon."
“The Mjollner are more...empirical than the Cartel. They see their operation as a business first and are more protective within their power structure. They have a few people at the very top and a majority of easily controlled people at the bottom,” Ivy explains.” The Rektor is their highest ranking member, but no one knows who that is is unless you need to know--.”
“What about your Aunt ?,” Rayne asks. “She was in contact with them when she was making arrangements for your marriage?”
Ivy shakes her head.
“We never got that far with them…we got a better offer,” she sighs.
“Rayne, we need to let the other Shy know what happened to Rias. They might have heard things or have tips--,” Jean starts.
“I said no,” Rayne interrupts.
“Jean’s right,” Ivy adds. “Stop being stubborn, this is your god damn son’s life--”
“I don't want other people getting this idea. Keeping this out of the public could possibly buy us more time,”
“Possibly ?,” Ivy spits.
“What about Dakota ?,” Minnow says quietly over the escalating tension.
“That asshole is just a glorified street dealer,” Jean dismisses her.
Minnow shares a meaningful look with me, like we should be in collaboration about something but I’m lost.
“Alan and I saw him when we went to get my dumb shoes,” she says. “He said something to me about getting out of the Shy Cartel before things got bad.”
This is your chance before shit gets bad.
I feel like an idiot for not realizing the connection earlier. In the back of my head I wonder if there is something I can do to improve my memory. I’d have to ask Blackbird if there was a hack for that.
“She’s right,” I say and Rayne finally seems to consider it.
“What do we know about this Dakota ?,” Rayne asks.
“He’s an asshole, but we used to be friendly,” Jean sighs. “He runs a brothel on the West Strip.”
“Alan, Jean…Minnow. Let’s go find out what this Dakota knows,” he says.
“I’m coming,” Luce says from where he’d been sulking in the back corner.
“Luce Grace, you will stay here.”
“No,” he says defiantly and Rayne turns on him.
“Your mother would kill me if she knew I put you in danger--”
“Like you ever cared what she wants--”
“Enough,” Ivy interrupts the impending fight. “Luce you will stay and look after your mother. I’ll go.”
“I forbid that,” Rayne tells her.
“You don’t get to do that,” she reminds him. “I may not know how to handle a gun, but I’m in a far better place to be diplomatic then you are.”
Before he can argue she is out the door with Saint following behind.
***
-2-
-2-
Cheap holographic lettering floats above the inconspicuous business front, situated in between a popular bar and hotel.
Dream.
Without even talking us through a plan Rayne strolls into the brothel, arm and arm with Ivy. I follow behind with Minnow behind me and Jean in the back. The lobby looks like one of the five star hotels, with a series of statuesque girls behind screens making reservations. A panel window to the right give a small glimpse of what goes on inside the lounge just beyond the front desk.
It’s still pretty early in the morning, so I don’t see anyone in the lounge except a a few nearly naked women sitting on leather couches laughing over coffee. Jean steps closer to the glass and I think one of the women raises her eyebrows in recognition.
“I’d like to speak with your manager,” Rayne tells a girl behind the counter with white-pink hair. He sounds cordial and almost sane.
“Excuse me ?,” she says.
She’s pretty. Not the typical, Mjollner beauty---not yet anyway. She’s young, with small gray eyes and a birthmark on her chin.
“We’re not cops,” Ivy snears at the girl.
The girl looks off into her Syndicate before turning back to them. She seems nervous.
“She’s not in this early--,” the girls says.
“Let’s not play games,” Ivy says. “We want to talk to Dakota. Now.”
The girl eyes all of us briefly and then looks back into her Syndicate. She tries to keep her eyes still, but I can tell she is taking a photo of us and sending it to someone.
“Rayne,” Jean says pointing towards the viewing glass and raising his eyes.
All of the other receptionists are taking notice of us. Rayne turns around and catches my eye.
“I want everyone inside that room. Now,” he says to me and I know I don’t have a choice.
I never have a choice.
I take out my sidearm and point it at the pink haired girl.
“Open the fucking door and don’t say a word,” I tell her.
She stares momentarily in shock at the weapon.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” I tell her, but really I’m pleading.
She teeters quickly in her seven inch heels and unlocks the door with a retina scan. I push her into the lounge and motion to the other receptionists.
“Everybody in,” I say to the girls and they follow. A few of them are already losing their shit, which isn’t typical of Mjollner hookers. These girls must be new and I hope Rayne notices that and doesn’t try to take out his anger on them.
Rayne watches as they all clack into the room , holding on to each other.
“What happened to diplomacy ?,” Ivy hisses as we walk into the lounge.
“My son is missing and I’m being lied to,” he reminds her.
Inside the lounge, three women are sprawled on the couches over coffee, two women are on their knees in front of an exposed Dakota. His dick has a metal piercing through it. It’s a bar with two smooth red balls engraved with the Mjoller star on the end, it’s disgusting and I’m not sure why I’m looking, but I can’t look away now.
His eyes are closed and his making disgusting noises, and even though the women have stopped to glare at us he doesn’t realize what is happening yet.
Jean clears his throat loudly.
“Me next ?,” Jean says
Dakota’s eyes pop open and he bolts upward. I get an unfortunate full view of him. He gives Minnow a furtive stare down, where she is standing by the door. Like she’s betraying him or something. When he sees Rayne he quickly pulls his pants up.
Although his hard on is still visible.
“Mr. Washington,” he stammers. “What do I owe this visit--”
“Shut up,” Rayne barks.
Rayne starts strolling around the lounge, it’s quiet except for the sounds of the reception girls whimpering and soft electronica music. Rayne inspects the fully stocked bar, looks into a vending machine selling sex toys, runs his hands over the plush couches and stops at the series of screens in front of the couches.
They are showing different porn films, some of which look like they were shot in this very lounge.
The girl with pink hair from the receptionist desk is starring in one film and. In the video she lays on her back naked, tied with her ankles to her ears and blindfolded as a camera pans up her body. Two people off screen are touching her and showing off her body. When she turns over there is the start of a raw red tattoo on her back.
Text appear that reads Sage | virgin | $2000/hr.
I realize all the screens are advertisements, a few have men but most of them are of women. Their bodies on display and open for customers to scrutinize and choose.
Although to be honestly they are all pretty hot.
Rayne watches the videos for a few more seconds before turning back to Dakota and cocking his head.
“So, this is what you do?,” Rayne asks calmly.
“I-It’s a uh, business,” Dakota stutters.
“Is it ?,” Rayne says. “Selling sex, treating women like products ?”
“We like to think of it as selling fantasy,” Dakota replies.
“I find these types of fantasies repulsive,” Rayne tells him and continues his stroll.
“World’s oldest profession,” Dakota says, his confidence coming through. “I’m just giving what men have been looking for for ages.,”
“Bullshit. Idiots like you tell men this is what they should want. It’s repulsive and dangerous,” Rayne continues.
“I beg to differ,” Dakota shrugs.
“And I don’t give a damn,” Rayne says.
He walks over Dakota and stands in front of them so they are eye to eye.
“ I’m here about my son. What can you tell me about that that ?,”
Dakota’s eyes go wide as Rayne steps even closer to him.
“I heard you had a kid. I don’t know anything besides that,” Dakota says. “Look, I get who you are, but you can’t just come here with your fucking moral outrage--”
“Where is my son ?,” Rayne demands.
“I don’t kno--”
“Where is my son ?,” Rayne demands louder.
“Mr.--”
“WHERE IS MY SON ?”
“Back off, I don’t have a fucking clue—“
“Let’s play roulette,” Rayne says abruptly, his rage evaporated.
He pulls one of the women who had been kneeling in front of Dakota by her hair and puts a familiar revolver to her head. It’s Minnow’s revolver with a rotating cylinder. Rayne’s victim is older and clearly seen a lot because she stares Rayne’s gun in the eye. Across the room the receptionist girls start crying.
Rayne pulls the trigger and despite all the shrieking all I hear is the catch.
“Let’s all try,” Rayne says turning to us. “Everyone!”
I look to Jean for a cue on what to do next. Without a second glance Jean grabs the pink haired girl, Sage. He levels a knife at her throat. Minnow buries the end of her pistol in a blond girl’s ponytail.
I reach for the woman closest to me, she’s wearing a sheer negligee, revealing her red tattoo on her back. She starts crying the minute I hold on to her and I put the barrel of the handgun to her cheek.
Ivy doesn’t have a weapon and stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. I think Saint is guarding the door.
“Tell me who took my son or you’ll be having a liquidation sale,” Rayne says.
“It was just a rumor,” Dakota says quickly. “I just heard a rumor that some members were going to do something at your son’s christening. They were bragging… trying to impress me, I didn’t know what they were going to do, I swear please--”
“Who said this ? Who were they ?,” Ivy asks.
“I don’t know--they were Mjollner,” Dakota says. “They had a lot of new shit, so I think they were dealers or maybe synthesizers, I didn’t know them. If they took your son that is fucked up and if I knew I’d tell you. I swear.”
“I don’t believe him,” Minnow says from across the room. “You have cameras in here right ? I know you do you sick bastard.”
Dakota glares at her and sighs.
“Show us the recordings,” Rayne demands. “I want to know what these assholes look like.”
Dakota shakes his head mournfully.
“I can’t. My other clients have expectations of privacy--.”
Rayne shoots his woman in the arm and drops her to the floor. She screams clutching her arm, cursing Dakota.
“Okay, okay,” he says. “Look, the video is stored in an anonymous server complex. I don’t keep track of it, but I can call my guy and have him send it to you when it’s ready. I swear,” he says.
Rayne pulls the gun down
“That will suffice,” he says. “Now, one last question. What do you know about The Rektor ?”
Dakota laughs and shakes his head like they are two old friends at a bar together.
“Jackshit,” he says. “Only that he may or may not exist and he’s pissed you’re taking his money,”
Rayne smiles at this cordially.
“I’m having your system hacked and I have the information on all your whores.” Rayne says. “If I find out you’ve lied to me I will have Mr. Gray and Mr. Dory hand deliver you the skulls of each of these women.”
Rayne briskly turns and leads the way out, the rest of us follow. Minnow pauses at the door like she is going to do something, but keeps walking.
Saint is in fact guarding the door and a pair of men are arguing with him for not allowing them inside.
“You let him off to easy,” Minnow says once we are in the car. “He's probably lying. Dakota will never help us.”
“I don’t need him to,” Rayne says confidently.
---
A/N So when I was outlining this I was originally going to have Rayne kill Griffin and then Rayne and Co dismember all the girls, but then I was like...eh, it's a bit much.