Stealing Beauty

Part 14- Searching for Answers

-Konnor-

Jackson and I sat in an airport coffee shop, trying to get any information we had on The Dictatorship. We were waiting on a couple more Military guys of ours to fly in. After we gathered some information and rounded up the team, we would crash at a hotel for the night, and leave for France in the morning.

Why not have all the guys fly out to France on their own?

We need as many bodies as we can find, so gathering information is more efficient. Maisy has been talking to Maeve, trying to swallow her pride for the greater good. She said she still feels like Maeve is hiding something, but it's not important right now. She said there will be a time and place for them to settle things, but now was not that time.

Raylynn said she wanted to come, but Zander was still in the hospital, hoping to get out soon. Of course, the doctor would limit his activity once he left, so they needed to stay home.

"Anything?" I asked Jackson. He sipped his coffee slow and shook his head. "Not really. Apparently some bloggers from France are saying the Dictatorship aligns themselves with the police force in Paris."

"What does that mean?" I asked, looking up from my computer.

"They're saying they tend to capture some of the horrible people the cops search for but can never find and take them to their "headquarters," where they torture and sometimes even kill. The police actually pay them to rid of these people under the table."

"So bad people doing bad things to other bad people?" Jackson nodded. "But what would they want with Natalie? Natalie couldn't even hurt a fly."

"I don't know. It says here they also associate with personal revenge, and sometimes they'll even travel cross country to capture their target. They're the only mob known to do that."

"Natalie doesn't know anyone French, let alone causing someone French to get revenge on her." I sighed, taking a long swig of my coffee. "Where are their headquarters?"

"I'm not sure. Most witnesses of their torture don't make it out. These bloggers are saying they run a prison."

"Is it an actual correctional center or is it abandoned?"

"It doesn't say. Witnesses only say they know it's a prison from the inside. They never escaped; when they were done with these people and they didn't kill, they knocked them out and left them out on the street in the middle of Paris. So, no one knows for sure what prison it is, or where it's located."

"So it could literally be any prison in Paris?"

"Pretty much."

"Fuck." I cussed under my breath.

"Apparently the people who run this place call themselves the KIng and Queen, and have guards called Knights, as well as servants, and Duchesses and Dukes."

"So they have a whole system."

"Pretty much," Jackson looked harder at his computer. "They go by no other name but La Reine and Le Roi. No one knows their actual identity, either. They wear masks and other disguises such as contacts to hide their true identity and features."

"How are you getting all this information, again? It doesn't seem that legit."

"French blogs," Jackson looked up from his computer, "it's not legit? Konnor, these men could have taken your fiance' and flew her across country with so much as a whisper. Does the entire situation seem legit?"

"Well..." I tried to counter, but couldn't come up with anything. "You say they torture and sometimes even kill? What exactly do they do to people while they're in there?"