The Troubleshooter

17- the dark house

Nico POV

Since my unexpected call with Lili yesterday I've been eager to get back. I can't believe I spent my lunch break jacking off in my office like some horny teen.

So I was extra pissed off last night that Damien wasn't willing to listen to reason. The smug son of a bitch sat and told me that as long as there were potential customers his product would be in my clubs.

Years of practicing my anger management techniques is the only reason I didn't just shoot the bastard then and there.

Fuck him. I'm looking forward to tearing apart the piece of shits organisation. I've been doing my homework since I arrived.

Luckily not shooting him right away has given me the chance to learn everything. His runners, his shipments, his warehouses, his money launderers. Thanks to his cleaners of course, some people never learn.

I'm going to teach him that I am not someone he can ignore. I make orders. Not requests.

Which is why I'm here at some desolate address the information has lead too.

Arty and I move silently alongside the house, a slither of light through a gap in the drapes upstairs is the only sign of life. The otherwise derelict building could easily pass as abandoned.

A shudder runs down my spine at the memory of the last seemingly abandoned dwelling I had to visit. Where we lost Marco.

We know Damien's men come and go from this address so there is something here, we just don't know what that is yet. First I'll find out, then I'll torch the place.

A board of the decking creaks under my foot and I pause. When nobody comes to look I move forwards trying the door. Locked but that's not an issue. The wooden door is so rotten it starts to give way with a little pressure.

I beckon to Arty to follow my lead both of us pulling out our guns and affixing the silencers. It won't stop anyone hearing the gun, but it'll at least stop it deafening us.

Leaning my weight into my shoulder I give a hard shove forcing the door open. The plan was to head straight in but I recoil at the smell. It's like someone died here. And I'd know. I take one last deep breath and head in.

The room is pitch black when we enter. Both Arty and I pull out our cell's turning on the torches.

I can see we are in a filthy kitchen. Empty beer bottles are overflowing from the garbage. Old food has been left to rot besides the sink which is full of burnt spoons and used needles.

The sound of a door slamming upstairs followed by heavy footsteps has us switching off our lights. Standing either side of the empty door frame.

I don't know who is coming down, but until I do they can't leave. I pull out some zip ties and a shot of general anaesthetic that is disguised to look like an EpiPen.

I can knock them out for a short time and restrain them, with no long term harm.

The moment he gets to the foot of the stairs I move. Covering his mouth from behind to keep him quiet and give me more access to his neck. It's the easiest way to get the back of his hand where I want it.

The moment he grabs my hand with his I press the 'epipen' against his vein. He continues to struggle against me for a minute before he succumbs giving me the chance to restrain him.

It's taken years of practice finding a vein in the dark or on a struggling victim but it's worth the effort, if it means I don't have to hurt someone who doesn't deserve it.

Arty returns as I finish with the zip ties letting me know this floor is clear, so we move upstairs. There is light shining from beneath the furthest door but other than that there is no noise and no light.

We push open every door as we pass, checking the rooms are clear before moving on. The first room is a bathroom, then every room after looks the same. Heavy curtains and a bare mattress on the floor but otherwise empty.

When we finally reach the last door we stop listening for signs of life. We can hear a voice speaking in a hushed tone, clearly trying to sooth someone.

I use two hands to support my gun as I kick open the door. Forcing myself into the room with Arty.

"ON THE GROUND!" I bellow trying to fight against the urge to close my eyes In the sudden brightness.

Allowing my eyes to adjust I do a quick scan of the room then meet Arty's eyes where he is sharing my look of horror.

There are no men in the room, just girls. Lay on the ground whimpering in clothes that barely cover their bruised bodies.

I take a cautious step forward. I don't want to assume they're all innocent. Sometimes women are worse than men when it comes to exploiting people.

I carefully grab the nearest girl pulling her to her feet. She catches sight of the gun and starts to cry.

"Why are you here?" I ask her simply, but she just stared at me with wide terrified eyes. I give her a little shake and ask again. "Why are you here?"

She replies but not in English, shaking her head. I'm not sure what language she's speaking. Maybe Russian? Or Eastern European? I only speak English, Italian, French, Spanish and a bit of Cantonese, and that's because my friends speak them.

"Do any of you speak English?" I ask, repeating the question in the languages I know. Either they don't understand, or they're too afraid to speak.

"Wait," Arty steps forward pulling out his cell. And holding it up to her face. "Ask her again," he says.

"Why. Are. You. Here?" I ask slow but firm.

The girl replies again tears spilling down her face.

"She's speaking Polish. She said something like 'sorry I don't understand please don't hurt me'" Arty explains turning his cell to show me Google's translation. "Why are you here?" Arty says into his cell then plays back the translation.

The girls eyes turn wide and Arty barely had time to lift his phone before she starts speaking.

When she stops Arty scans the translation.

"She was speaking a bit fast but its something about 'a job, they took her passport and left her here where men come to visit.' fuck Nico... I think he's pimping them out!"

That bastard!

I'm gonna kill him.

A/N

Poor Nico has been having some rough chapters. I promise Nico will get a happier chapter soon!