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Chapter Three
Reid
“Senior Special Agent Reid Chapman, it’s been a while.” I sat in a cold metal chair across the table from Director Alan Reynolds, Senior Director for the Sex and Human Trafficking Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The room was cold and barren with the exception of the clock hanging on the wall behind my head, that I could hear ticking in the background. I mentally catalogued the exits in this room - two, one directly behind me and one to my right. I scanned the room, unmoving, always aware of my surroundings, always on. I can’t turn it off, and I wouldn’t want to. The moment I turn it off is the moment I die.
“Director, that it has.” I don’t have time for pleasantries. I see the folder that sits under his hand as his thumb moves up and down in a slow tapping motion. The folder that I know contains pictures of women and children that have gone missing; ones we don’t even know are missing yet. The hundreds unaccounted for, their lives matter. And yet we sit here, wasting time, looking at each other as another shipment moves out.
And then there are the pictures of those that hurt them. The ones that consider themselves Gods; that think that they get to determine who lives or dies, and fuck if they care as long as the money gets wired to their accounts at the end of the day. They’ve lost their humanity and have sold their souls to the devil.
“We’ve been doing this together for…how long? Almost a decade. And in all that time your record has been impeccable. You have laid your life down for the women and children of this unit. This assignment, this isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to test every skill you have worked to hone over the last ten years, mentally and physically.” His thumb hovered over the file as he stopped tapping momentarily and paused, looking me in the eyes, evaluating.
“We considered putting someone else on this mission, but this is the culmination of your work, and if you can pull it off, well…this is one case we will be able to close. Understand, this assignment is unique in that if you review the file and you don’t think this is something you can manage, you do have the option to pass; you can walk away. Special Agent Bennett is chomping at the bit for this assignment, but the agency feels you are the best fit and our best bet in catching these assholes.”
“No. Under no circumstances will I pass on the assignment.” My jaw locked as I ground my teeth together and bit back the words I wanted to say. Fucking Bennett. This career, we hover the line of good versus evil, and sometimes we have to cross that line to accomplish our ultimate goal. But, Bennett, he likes to cross the line for funsies, it’s a joke to him, and I have my suspicions he’s not living the high life off of his shit pay from the Bureau.
Director Reynolds nodded slowly, pushing the file across the table to me as he flipped it open.
Sylvester Wilks, owns a luxury auto company that in reality is a shell company for international trade. Late sixties, Caucasian, he specializes in young girls and virgins. We’ve been trying to nail him down for years, but every time we get close, he disappears on us.
Victor Adkins, old money. Selling sex is big business for his family. We have reason to believe that his grandfather was part of the original mafia. He hides behind his stockpile of dirty money and a shell trading company that dabbles on Wall Street to maintain relevance.
I remained stoic and held the tremble in my hands that threatened to give me away as I flipped to the third photo. Director Reynolds watched me intently, waiting for my reaction.
“My father, what does he have to do with this, Director?” I forced my voice to remain even. My father owns a fucking insurance company, as did his father before him. I don’t understand.
“We have reason to believe he’s indirectly related to this case. While there is no indication that he is directly involved with the trafficking of these women and children, we believe that he is assisting these men in a money laundering scheme filing fraudulent insurance claims. He’s cleaning their dirty money for them and getting a hefty slice off the top in return.” I let my guard slip, if only momentarily as I ran my hand over my face.
“When was the last time you went home, Chapman?” Director Reynolds stared at me, his eyes narrowed as he tested me and looked for a tell. I don’t have one.
“Years.” After my first assignment, I was changed. They try to warn you in the Academy, I underwent numerous psychological exams and am constantly being re-evaluated every time I come out of the field off of an assignment. I pass with flying colors, because I’m damn good at my job. I can fool the best of the best doctors.
But my mother, one look at my eyes, and I will break her heart. She will see the devil. The devil I fight against every day. I can’t live with the knowledge that I broke her. So, I’ve stayed away. I call home regularly, but I spend the majority of time on assignment, and they understand. It’s my calling, and while I’ve always known that it eats away at my father, my mother has been supportive. Now I’m questioning whether or not I should have stayed away for so long.
“Well, pack your shit. You’re moving back, and I hear there’s an opening at the Chapman Group. Get ready to join the family business, you’re going under as Reid Chapman – Claims Specialist and Adjuster. Can you handle this Special Agent Chapman? If your father is found guilty, charges will be brought against him. We might be able to work out a deal, given the circumstances, if we can get to Wilks and Adkins through him.” The rush of adrenaline I’m all too familiar with flooded my system. My knee bounced, and my blood raced through my mind. I can’t let Bennett touch this case. Dammit.
“I’m in.”
???
“Oh, Mr. Chapman, right this way.” I followed behind my young twenty-something-year-old administrative assistant that was assigned to me the moment that I mentioned my early retirement from the Bureau to my father.
Last night, I sat next to him on the back patio of my parents’ sensible upper-middle class home in the same neighborhood I grew up in as he lit a cigar in celebration of me finally coming to my senses, as he so nicely put it. I couldn’t help but glance around and wonder about the money laundering. Wonder what my father was involved in and how deep. I’m a fucking federal agent, and my father was involved in this shit under my nose the entire time.
I did, at one time, have an apartment here in Carlton. I sold my penthouse in the Shaeffer building when I realized I was on assignment more than I was at home, it didn’t make sense financially for me to keep it. The Shaeffer building, it was my investment property, my future – if I lived to see it.
As part of my trust, I was allotted certain funds on my twenty-fifth birthday. I used those funds to invest in an old shoe factory when I saw the potential in the revitalization of Carlton. I turned that property into upscale apartments and a boutique hotel. The revenue stream from that venture feeds into a savings account that I keep as my nest egg. I’ve never had much of a reason to touch it, and now hell it may have been funded with dirty money to begin with. I never questioned my father when he told me about the trust. He mentioned it was family money, from the business, and I didn’t ask questions. I was twenty-five and never intended on receiving the other half, which had a stipulation in it that I take over the company. Which I still have no intentions of doing, even though by every outward appearance currently, I am.
So instead of moving back into my apartment, in the building that I own, I’m moving into an apartment building not too far from here, that, funnily enough, Alex has already wired up. This apartment belonged to some friends of his. There was an incident involving security at the apartment a couple of years ago. I was out on assignment at the time, but I heard the stories that filtered through the Bureau.
Ryan Walsh, CEO of Walsh Inc. and an old friend of Alex, almost lost his, then girlfriend, now wife, in a kidnapping and attempted murder situation that was mere seconds from ending badly. If Alex had not been involved, and not been able to tap federal resources quickly, things would have probably ended differently. After the incident, at the request of Ryan, the apartment had a full security detail done on it. So, other than some job specific details that Alex has already secured there for me, I should be able to easily move in and settle into my assignment.
Being in our cyber security division, Alex has more flexibility than I do. He can come and go as he pleases because the work that he does is hiding behind a computer. He’s not easily recognized on the street. He doesn’t have to worry about walking into the corner drugstore and taking a bullet to the back of the head.
I’m taking a huge ass risk coming home for this assignment and going undercover as myself. I risk having to go into a protection program permanently depending on how this all goes down. I’m risking my life, the lives of every single innocent these men have left their mark on, and I’m risking my family. It will never be the same after this. None of it will.
“Amanda, is that what you said your name was?” I asked as I watched her ass bounce from side to side in the tight black pencil skirt she wore as we stepped off of the elevator onto the twenty-first floor of my father's building.
“Yes sir, but you can call me Mandy if you want.” She giggled; the sound only slightly annoying as she turned back to look at me. Her bottle-dyed blonde hair was pulled up into a sleek ponytail, up off of her face, making her big blue eyes stand out amongst her other features.
