Breaking Hammer Read online

  There was no hope anymore, only darkness.

  Benicio leaned forward, his elbows on the large mahogany desk, his hands under his chin. It was early in the morning, yet he was dressed in a suit, impeccably tailored to his frame, the same way he was the few times I'd seen him before. Two imposing men, clad in similarly tailored suits, stood behind him against the far wall, in front of the bookcases that ran the length of the office and rose from the floor to the ceiling. Their hands were at their sides, and they waited, unmoving, like London Palace guards or something. Looking forward, expressionless.

  The ludicrous thought popped into my head that he must keep a tailor on retainer to outfit his staff.

  Benicio said nothing for a while, even after Blaze had finished speaking. "I assume you've done some digging of your own on Aston, yes?"

  I held up the binder containing everything I had on the man. "I narrowed down the possibilities for where they might be located. I don't know for certain, but out of the several locations, I'd be inclined to say they're at his location in Bangkok. Meia talked about the place where she was held - she called it a finishing school. Aston was younger then, and it's where he first...met...Meia and her sister." I stumbled over the word "met," and I forced the image out of my head of what he'd done to Meia back then.

  And what he might be doing to her and her son now.

  The thought made my stomach turn. But, more than that, it made me enraged. I wanted to kill him before; I wanted to destroy him now.

  Benicio had said little during any of this, and I held my breath, waiting for his verdict. The club's Panamanian employer had an extensive network of resources, broader than I could begin to even guess at. If anyone was going to give us a contact for weapons in Thailand, it would be Benicio.

  "I'm familiar with Aston," he said. "He's been running a trafficking operation out of Vegas for years now. With the implicit permission of some influential political leaders, of course. There are rumors about his parties, and the people who attend."

  "Parties," I echoed stupidly. Meia had said she was forced to do whatever Aston wanted. I felt my fists clench at my side.

  "Invitation only, given by Aston or one of the key members. These are people who are extremely powerful, very well-connected, and wealthy. The rumor is that Aston provides whatever you need to satisfy a craving- no matter the type of craving- and no matter how young your preferred partner."

  A chill ran up the length of my spine. "Meia and her son," I said. "There won't be a lot of time before they disappear."

  Benicio shook his head. "No, I imagine not. There is some urgency here."

  "We need a contact for weapons in Bangkok..."

  Benicio raised his hand, silencing Blaze. "Weapons, transportation, manpower," he said. He gestured, and one of the men at the wall walked to his desk, leaned down while Benicio spoke in his ear, then nodded and left. "This will be done."

  "This is a personal issue," I said. "With all due respect, I didn't expect -"

  Benicio cut me off. "What is happening with your woman is tragic, yes," he said. "I am not a humanitarian. I may not like this trafficking of persons, but I am not a charity. But Aston and I have had dealings before. He does not only smuggle people. And I am, shall we say...intrigued by the possibility of expanding into an Asian market. I am always looking for opportunities for growth. Elimination of a rival is an opportunity for growth."

  "I don't know for certain that they are in Thailand," I said.

  "Details," Benicio said. "To be ironed out in the next several hours. I don't doubt your intelligence gathering skills, but I have my own resources who may be more useful. Are you sending anyone else from the club?"

  "Squid," Blaze said. "And Axe is going to make the trip too."

  Benicio nodded. "Axe," he said. "He will be very useful. So will my men." He paused. "You will, of course, preferably return Aston here. Alive."

  "I would like the opportunity to end him myself," I said. The remaining associate standing behind Benicio glanced in my direction, his face unreadable, but his eyes spoke of an understanding of what would happen. After what he'd done to Meia and her son, I had my own end in mind for Aston.

  "Yes, well," Benicio said. "There are particular questions I would like to ask him. Business questions about which I am curious. I have someone who is exceptionally skilled at extracting information. After that, he is yours."

  If Meia doesn't try to kill him first, I thought. It would be a suicide mission.

  The bolt in the door turned, and I sat up on the bed, my heart racing, my body immediately tensed in preparation for another assault. Aston didn't often hit me like that, square in the face, preferring to "preserve my beauty," and I feared what else that meant he had in store for me.

  What he had in store for me was nothing compared to what he had threatened to do to my son.

  I would kill him first, before I let that happen. Even if it meant I would die in the process. I didn't care what it took, what it might do to me.

  The girl stepped inside, and the heavy wooden door shut behind her with a thud. She walked toward the bed, a tray in her hands, eyes cast downward to the floor. She appeared Cambodian, a young girl, maybe ten, and walked with the defeated gait I recognized from my own childhood. She set the tray on the table beside the bed without looking at me, and I reached for her hand.

  "What is your name?" I asked.

  She withdrew her hand like she'd been scalded, and glanced up at me with sad eyes, a dog who'd been beaten. She shook her head.

  "How long have you been here?" I asked.

  She turned to leave, looking at me before she left. "Eat," she said.

  She'd been gone only a few seconds, before I reached for the water on the tray, gulping it down, feeling it fill my empty stomach. My stomach churned again as the water sloshed inside, and I took a few deep breaths, willing myself not to vomit. Being weak and dehydrated was the last thing I needed.

  When I took the cover off the food, and smelled the curry, I could not stave off the memories of being here before. They washed over me like a tsunami, overwhelming and nauseating. I laid down on the bed, calming myself by slowing my breath, and it wasn't long before my eyelids began to feel heavy. I looked at the water glass on the bedside table. My brain felt foggy, and I wondered stupidly if I'd been drugged.

  Being drugged is better than being here, I thought, as I drifted into oblivion.

  When I blinked open my eyes, my first thought was that I was dead. It was illogical, I knew, but the hangover from whatever I'd been drugged with was making it hard to think. The room was pitch black, and when I tried to move, I felt my arms stretched out to the sides, attached to something.

  I fought the acid taste of bile in my throat as I realized that my feet were restrained as well. Calm, I thought. Calm down.

  The air in the room was cool, and I shivered, but I wasn't sure if it was the chill from the air or from the realization that I was naked, standing, my wrist and ankles chained to something.

  Think of Ben, I told myself. Think good thoughts. Think of Hammer.

  Hammer. I'd taken a huge risk, dropping the locket in the bathroom in the hotel. I held out hope that he'd find it, understand that I had not left voluntarily.

  And what then? I asked myself. Do you really think Hammer is going to figure out where you are? Do you think he's going to come charging in, take down Aston, and carry you and Ben off into the sunset?

  I was a wonderful fantasy. But that's all it was - a fantasy. Hammer was not coming to save me. No one was coming for me. No one was coming for Ben. What happened to me would happen to my son, and there was nothing I could do about it. Aston would sell me - no, I wouldn't get that treatment, after I'd betrayed him - no, he would whore me out to the worst of them, to the men who wanted to use me in horrific ways, torture me. And when the worst of those men were finished with me, he would sell me to the ones who liked to kill. Someone would plan a gruesome death for me and carry it out.

  I knew