Warning: This novel deals with the subject of organized sexual violence. If this topic is difficult for you, I recommend avoiding it entirely. The subject is handled respectfully and with tact, but it is one that speaks for many women.

  Chapter Four - The Madam

  May 29th, 2014 - Min, Italy.

  It was just after seven in the morning when Ryan and his small charge arrived at Min’s Lambrate station. The smaller suburban stop had far less security and presented another deviation from their expected behavior. Ryan had to assume that by the time they arrived, the people looking for them would have worked out which train they were aboard and and it’s arrival time into Min.

  To that end, arriving at Min’s central station on time would have been an extremely reckless move. Instead, they had changed trains at a small town thirty miles outside of Min before arriving into the city on a regional service that stopped at smaller suburban stations. Ryan was hopeful that their change in routine would give any welcoming party the slip.

  It was still early in the morning when they disembarked the train, and the rush hour crowd was not yet filling the ptforms. After the regal comfort of the first-css express, the smaller commuter train had been bumpy and loud enough to ensure they were both wide awake.

  Making their way into the station building, Ryan evaluated their immediate requirements: food, luggage, and communications. Now that he had time to think, he had to make sure that they looked like normal travelers. A young man and a child with no baggage or personal effects certainly looked unusual to even the untrained eye. Anything unusual was certain to attract the attention of Law Enforcement.

  While the Agency likely would not tell national police agencies why they were looking for individuals, it was not beyond expectation for false notifications to get pushed. Local cops might not approach them, but they would certainly report back to command on such occasions.

  As they walked through the station, Ryan spotted a man checking a cellphone. When he was done, the man pocketed the device and wandered casually towards a coffee shop by the entrance. Accelerating their pace, Ryan intercepted the man’s path and bumped him just enough to snatch the device without being noticed.

  “Mi scusi,” he smiled, holding up his hands in apology. “Mi scusi.”

  The man turned, clearly about to berate Ryan until he noticed the small girl holding his hand. Changing his mind, the man shook his head and waved a hand dismissively. Grinning to himself, Ryan slipped the man’s phone into his pocket. At least having the child around disarmed people somewhat, a surprising benefit.

  There was a small travel shop on the concourse where Ryan was able to buy a small backpack and some items to keep Béatrice entertained: a coloring book, pencils, and a stuffed horse that the girl was presently squeezing delightedly. It wasn’t much, but it made their travel look far more intentional and routine. A kiosk on the concourse netted a baseball cap and some shades for Ryan. It was a small change, but he knew that it was enough to make facial recognition slightly harder if anyone was looking for him.

  A small cafe just outside the station entrance was open early, offering breakfast to sleepy travelers. Ryan took the opportunity to head inside. While they had eaten on the train, it was obvious that his small charge would soon become increasingly grumpy if not fed. More importantly, he had no idea when they would next get an opportunity to eat.

  Ordering a selection of pastries along with fruit juice and a rge coffee for himself, Ryan settled them both into a small booth near the rear of the cafe. It was quiet back here, away from the chattering customers already occupying the pce. It allowed them to blend into the background while keeping an eye on anyone entering or leaving the establishment.

  Sipping his Capuchino, Ryan allowed himself a moment to rex. They had made it to Min and, for the time being, had managed to slip the net of any potential pursuit. It would certainly catch up to them, he was more than aware, but now that they had time. It allowed him to pn their next steps more carefully.

  As the caffeine seeped into his tired mind, Ryan thought back to the nightmare on the train. It had been the first of its kind that he had experienced in years; he had thought that they were behind him. It seemed that the activities of the past twenty-four hours had managed to bring things back to the surface. Where once those nightmares had threatened to end his career, now, they could end his life if he didn’t get himself under control.

  Watching Béatrice as she munched happily on her pastry, Ryan knew that he had a reason to keep it all together. No matter what happened to him, this child did not deserve any of what was happening to her. She deserved to be at home with her mother and her brother, living her life like a normal child, not out here with him as an orphan on the run.

  It was only because of this girl that he was reluctantly coming to terms with his impending reunion with Francesca Ricci. He had not seen the woman in many years; after the failure of Operation Orsino, he had been far too ashamed to return to Min. He had longed to see her again, but his shame had kept him away, a shame he carried even when the nightmares had subsided. In many ways, Ryan Knight felt like he had failed her.

  The little girl across from him was enough for him to put aside his reservations and consider what he had once considered an impossibility. Given their circumstances, Francessa might well be their only reasonable hope in a world that seemed determined to fight them. That was, if she would even talk to him.

  Pulling out his newly acquired cell phone, Ryan began to search for his old friend’s address.

  “Where are we going next?” Béatrice asked as she stuffed a chunk of pastry into her mouth sideways.

  “That depends on my friend,” Ryan admitted with a frown, gesturing with the phone. “I haven’t seen her in a long time, and I don’t know if she will want to see me.”

  “Why not? Did you miss her?”

  Ryan sipped his coffee and considered the question, “Yeah, I guess I did. But I thought I was upset about something, and that made me embarrassed. So I didn’t want to see her for some time.”

  “Why were you embarrassed? What did you do?” The girl asked with all the tact of a sledgehammer.

  “I uh, it’s a long story,” Ryan admitted. “But she was, is, really important to me. I’m pretty sure she can help us.”

  “What’s your friend like?” Béatrice asked as she inhaled more pastry.

  Ryan wondered how to phrase the answer. “Well… Francesca is a… businesswoman… She’s very good at her job, too. Uh, she makes people happy.”

  “I want to make people happy when I’m older.” Béatrice beamed.

  Ryan grimaced, “Not like her, you don’t.”

  *        *        *

  Francesca Ricci’s establishment was nestled amongst the most exclusive fashion houses of Min’s Quadritero Del Moda. It was ironic, Ryan considered, that one of the most exclusive brothels in Italy was the least financially predatory business on the block.

  “I really must be desperate,” Ryan muttered as he rang the buzzer. They were waiting outside a nondescript bck door sandwiched between designer boutiques on Via Alessandro Manzoni. All around them, shoppers wandered along the boulevard with no idea what y just behind its unassuming facade.

  “Come posso aiutar?” A distorted voice asked politely as it crackled through a speaker above the doorbell. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Francesca, tell her…,” Ryan looked up at the camera that was discreetly built into the decorative frame. “Tell her, Knight to Bishop Four.”

  There was a pause before the voice answered simply, “Momento.”

  A few minutes ter, the door buzzed and clicked open to allow them entry. Pushing the door open, Ryan led Béatrice into the cool, air-conditioned interior. The foyer was tastefully decorated in cream tones and featured only a pair of leather sofas sitting along the wall with by a small end table. Thankfully, it was not presently occupied. A staircase filled the far end of the hallway and led away to parts of the house unseen.

  Ryan was not sure what exactly he had expected, but his mind had conjured up far a seedier image of Signora Ricci’s establishment. The space was cool and calm, and felt far more like the waiting room of a doctor’s office than its true purpose.

  “Let’s sit down, shall we?” Ryan asked the girl, leading her across to the sofas. “Why don’t you get your book out while we wait for my friend, huh?”

  “Ok!” Béatrice beamed, hopping onto the sofa and digging into her backpack.

  Ryan marveled at the girl’s resilience. It had only been the prior afternoon that she had been snatched off a busy Nice street with her mother. Looking at her now, you would never believe that she had narrowly avoided being murdered along with the rest of her family. Reaching down, Ryan tucked a lock of hair behind the girl’s ear and smiled.

  “I never took you to be the paternal type,” A voice called from the top of the stairs.

  It was a familiar voice, a voice Ryan had not heard in many years. Despite that, it was not one that he could ever truly forget. Following the sound, Ryan caught sight of the trim figure of Francesca Ricci descending the stairs in her spiked Minollo pumps. Despite the time that had passed, the woman had not changed a single bit.

  Signora Ricci was a stunningly beautiful woman who carried herself with impeccable poise and elegance which gave her a spectacurly effortless air. Every movement she made was measured, and every expression carried endless subtle meaning. To be in her presence made one immediately aware that she was someone to be treated with the utmost respect. A respect that was not without consequences if it was crossed.

  As far as Ryan knew, Francessca Ricci was somewhere between forty and sixty years of age, and the woman maintained herself in perfect shape. Having come up from a childhood in poverty, she had turned to prostitution out of necessity. Unlike many, however, she had risen through the world’s oldest profession with the pace of a Ferrari at full throttle. Before long, she was running her brothel and had brought the art of the Courtesan back for the richest and most influential clients in Northern Italy.

  Francessca was wearing a crisp white blouse and a bck knee-length pencil skirt that must have cost at least several thousand Euros. As usual, her makeup was perfect and her dark curls cascaded across her shoulders. She cut the image of a successful businesswoman who was in perfect control of every element of her femininity.

  Francesca descended the stairs, her fingertips csped together in front of her, an amused smile fixed on her ruby lips. In a single moment, Ryan felt ashamed that he had stayed away for so long. Seeing his mentor again filled him with more comfort than he ever imagined.

  Ryan stood as she approached. “Francesca, it’s good to see you. Ah, it’s been too long, I guess,” he smiled awkwardly as he stood. Gncing back at the now busily coloring child, he pointed out the approaching woman. “Béatrice, this is my friend, Francesca.”

  “Bonjour!” Béatrice beamed.

  “She is… yours?” Signora Ricci raised a delicate eyebrow questioningly as her eyes flicked to Béatrice, a smile spreading on her lips.

  “No, she isn’t, but she is the reason why I’m here,” Ryan admitted. Look, I know it’s been a long time, but I didn’t know who else to turn to. We’re in a bit of trouble. Can we talk somewhere in private?”

  Francesca clicked her fingers, and a pair of women in smart cocktail dresses appeared from seemingly nowhere. They approached and remained silent, waiting patiently for Ricci’s instruction.

  “Aria, Isabel, please take little Béatrice here for refreshments. Use our space and keep the others out. I need to speak with the Signore alone. Please see that I am not disturbed.” Francesca paused and turned to Ryan, “She speaks French, yes?”

  Ryan nodded, and Francesca gestured for the women to take Béatrice with them.

  Ryan knelt down and squeezed the girl’s hand. “Hey, I need to talk to my friend here for a moment; these dies are going to look after you for a few minutes, ok?”

  “My mama said I’m not to talk to strangers,” Béatrice pointed out nervously, eying the two women uncertainly.

  Ryan gnced up at the two and smiled, “They work for my friend here. They’re good people; they will look after you. I promise I won’t be long, ok?”

  Béatrice hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly.

  Ryan looked up at the two women and nodded. Reaching out, one of the women took Béatrices hand and led her through a doorway and out of sight. Ryan felt more than a little apprehension about letting her go, but knew that it was for the best. What he had to say to Francesca, he didn’t need little ears overhearing.

  Waiting until they were alone, Francesca directed Ryan to follow her as she ascended the stairs. “So, what is it that I can do for the CIA today, Signore Knight?”

  Ryan smiled awkwardly and shrugged, “Probably a lot, but that is part of the problem at the moment. The CIA and I are not really on speaking terms right now.”

  Francessca paused and gnced over at Ryan, concern repcing her earlier pleasant expression, “What did they do?”

  “Couldn’t it be something that I did?”

  Francessca smirked and shook her head, “I like to think that I got to know you fairly well, Mia Caro. You arrive on my doorstep with the bambina in tow. You are in trouble, yes, but I suspect it is not of your doing. Although I do recall that you were most adept at causing it, no?

  “Perhaps,” Ryan scratched his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Unfortunately, this time, you’re right. I’m on the run, and the Agency is looking for me; the girl is why. It’s a huge mess, and nothing makes a lot of sense. I’m out of options, and I have nowhere else to turn,” Ryan admitted as they reached Francessca’s office.

  The room was elegantly decorated with wood-paneled walls and rich mahogany furniture. It was a design that made the room feel old and expensive. Behind the broad leather-topped desk, a tall bay window looked out over a park's lush greenery beyond. It was hard to believe that they were still in the center of one of Italy’s rgest cities and not instead, in a stately home in the country.

  Francesca guided Ryan toward a less formal seating area to the side of the office and waited until they were comfortable before allowing him to continue his expnation.

  “We were going after her father, Abbas Ahmad. He was a Syrian national and a real bad dude. We snatched his mistress and kid to squeeze her for his location. She gave him up, and that was when we were meant to go get him. It would have been easy; he was alone, his guard was down; real simple. The problem is that’s when our team lead took matters into his own hands. Rather than follow procedure and send in our team, he called in a drone strike on French soil.”

  “Algeria?”

  Ryan shook his head grimly, “Downtown Nice.”

  Francesca’s eyebrows shot up. “Merda, do you mean?”

  Ryan nodded, “Yeah, Edwards, my direct senior, and the guy in charge of this operation, leveled a downtown apartment building to take out one guy. He took out his infant son, and God knows how many innocent civilians in the process. To cap things off, he murdered the guy’s girlfriend in cold blood afterwards and was prepared to kill the daughter too.”

  Recognition fshed across Francessca’s face as she put the pieces together, “So, Béatrice, she is this man’s child? And you have her because?”

  Ryan’s expression darkened, “she became a loose end.”

  Francesca frowned, her crimson lips pursing as she contempted the implication. “What can I do to ‘elp?”

  “Honestly?” Ryan sighed. “I don’t know, Francesca. I don’t even know why I came to you, I didn’t even know if you would remember… or be willing to even see me.”

  “How could I ever forget you?” Francesca replied gently, her expression softening.

  “We were at the train station, and I saw Min on the departure board… I don’t know,” Ryan shrugged. “I thought that maybe you might be able to help me, to help us. Maybe help us find a way out of Min, and help with… her. I have no idea what I’m doing with a kid.”

  “I’m not a travel agency. I am but a simple businesswoman,” Ricci shrugged nonchantly.

  Ryan inclined his head and smiled, “We both know that you’re far more than that, Signora Ricci. How many young girls have you smuggled out of sex trafficking rings, helped them find a way out of that shit?”

  Francesca’s lip quirked in response. “A great many, but as, it is never enough.”

  They were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come,” Francesca called out. A young man appeared carrying a tray of coffee that he pced on the table beside them before vanishing discreetly back the way he had come.

  Francesca picked up the cafetiere and gnced at Ryan. “I took the liberty, you do look rather exhausted.”

  Ryan smiled tiredly and nodded. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know what to do, Francesca. I’ve gone rogue from one of the most powerful intelligence agencies in the world and taken this kid, this little girl. I have no idea what they’ve told the higher powers back in Langley, but I can only assume that they’re coming for me. I have to try and find someone who will listen, someone who will take what I say seriously. To do that, I need all the help I can get. I cannot let her be hurt because of this.”

  “It is right that you did not, and I would expect nothing less,” the woman agreed, handing him a cup of steaming dark liquid. “Does she know any of this yet?”

  Ryan shook his head, “No. She’s not really processed what happened, and she didn’t see any of it personally. She thinks we’re taking a trip and catching up with her mom ter. I’ve not had the privacy or the time to expin any of it yet, even if I felt like I was able to.”

  “What is your pn?”

  Ryan sipped the coffee and allowed the caffeine to seep into his tired mind. “I don’t have much of a pn. I do have a parachute, an escape fund of sorts, in a bank in Zürich. I suppose my objective is to get hold of that and drop off the map for a while. Once I’m static, I can work out what to do.”

  Francesca nodded, “Traveling with a child will be difficult, especially if they put your descriptions out to Interpol and local police. A man and a child traveling alone attract attention from the authorities.”

  Ryan sighed, “I had considered that.`

  “I could talk to my contacts and see what I can do to ‘elp. As it stands, you are distinctive, that much we cannot avoid.” Francesca frowned for a moment, then shook her head. “I could… no, you would not go for it.”

  “I’m willing to consider a lot,” Ryan admitted. “I’m into this for the long haul, whether I want to or not. I made my choice, and I’ll stand by it. I’m not empty-handed; I have a recording of the ops center. It’s not much on its own, sure, but it’s something.” Ryan made a face, “The bigger problem is that Edwards is my superior; he’s bound to have a tidy story all zipped up nice and neat. I’m, well, I’m damaged goods. If I made it back to the US alive, I'd likely end up in a dark cell somewhere… I’m no good to Béatrice then.”

  Francesca smiled sympathetically, “A tough position indeed. You do not like the simple paths, do you, Mia Cara?”

  Ryan sighed, catching her meaning, “No, I don’t think I do.”

  “You know, I did perhaps hope to hear from you, after your assignment was completed,” Francesca poked gently. “I did not expect to be told all of the things. I understand how your people work. I had, however, wanted to know that you were alive and well.”

  Ryan did his best to hide the shiver that ran through him, “It got… complicated. I wanted to reach out, but things became… I’m sorry.”

  “You were not just a job to me, I think we became close, you and I,” Francesca added. “ I did miss you.”

  Ryan swallowed the lump forming in his throat and nodded wordlessly. He had buried the events that had first drawn them together all those years ago. Coming here to Min and sitting across from the woman that he had grown so close to was bringing back painful memories.

  Francesca Ricci had been both a mentor and a friend for him, a confidant and a teacher. After what had happened during Operation Orsino, a part of him had longed to rush to her once again, to tell her everything and seek her comfort. His shame, however, had stopped him dead in his tracks. His shame had made his hand freeze every time he tried to call her number. Burying that shame, burying the emotions, and the trauma had been the only option avaible to him that made it hurt less. Doing so had included never seeing or speaking to the one person on the pnet that might have helped him make sense of it all.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Francesca’s expression held no judgment or anger. It was the same gentle patient look that Ryan remembered from all those years ago. It was clear that she wanted to know what had transpired, but she had enough tact or experience to know that he was not prepared to talk about it yet.

  “You will stay here with us,” she announced with finality. “We will work out what to do next, yes? I will not have you or the Bambina going off, how do you say? Half-cocked?”

  “I don’t want to bring this down on you,” Ryan shook his head. “I really… I shouldn’t have come here. I could drag you and your people into this shit storm.”

  Francesca waved her hand dismissively, “Nonsense, I will not hear of it. I have handled more than enough stupidity from criminal syndicates trying to force their way into my business; this is not an immediate concern. I also have more than enough contacts in the Carabinieri to see anything official coming from Kilometers away. You are safe here, at least in the short term. I will not take no for an answer.”

  Ryan sighed, “After ghosting you as I did, I don’t deserve this.”

  Francesca stood and pced her hand on Ryan’s shoulder, “Mia Caro, I would never turn away someone in need, especially not you.”

  *        *        *

  October 18th, 2007 - Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

  “Hey, FRIENDLY…” the voice attached to the huge body that was holding onto the wriggling form of Alessandra De Luca yelled. “Officer Knight, you’re safe.”

  As her heart thumped against his ribcage, Ryan Knight began to feel his grasp on reality returning to normal. Blinking back the red mist, he began to recognize the American operator hauling himself to his feet in the middle of the room and the tattooed tree trunk arms that were holding on to him.

  “You’re safe now, Knight; we’re here to get you out,” the voice offered in a more soothing tone. “Are you hurt? Do you need medics?”

  The pair of arms set Ryan back down on the ground and let him go with the caution of someone handling live explosives. Ryan turned and looked back at the owner of the arms and shook his head slowly. “No, I’m not hurt, I’m… are you really here?”

  The man holding onto him was a well-muscled soldier wearing jeans and a T-shirt underneath his body armor. While most of his face was hidden by a thick red beard and an old, worn baseball cap, he somehow still managed to look surprisingly gentle. At that moment, the lips nestled within that beard were doing a more than passable attempt at a reassuring smile.

  “Yeah, we’re here alright. Langley sent us to get you. It’s all over, kid, ok?”

  Ryan swallowed and nodded uncertainly, his arms wrapped around his belly defensively. He could still feel his heart beating and his muscles tense, his body unwilling to rex as he stood trembling by the door. “How did you…?”

  “Find you?” The man finished. “They tracked some of the customers here. This dump was our third target tonight; at least we scored even if they didn’t, huh?” The man paused for a moment and seemed to reconsider his attempt at humor with an apologetic grin. “I uh, sorry. Hey, you got anything more substantial to wear? It’s not so warm outside.”

  The request seemed to refocus Ryan’s mind on the present moment, and he tugged the waist tie closed on his robe sheepishly, “No, I uh, I never got to go outside, so I don’t really have anything like that.”

  The man seemed to process the information, and the look on his face shifted to anger. He nodded and turned to speak to one of the men who had arrived at the door. As he did so, Ryan spotted one of the others restraining her former client on the bed.

  “We should bring him with us,” he pointed at the prone figure, wriggling in his indignity. “He’s Hassan Al Darhudi. I know a bunch of people back home would really like to talk to him.”

  “Copy that, Ma’am,” The operator nodded, barking an instruction to his teammate. “Ok, let’s get you moving.”

  As they exited the room, Ryan could see more men like his guardian clearing rooms up and down the long corridor. He had never actually seen it when they had brought him here, as he had been drugged at the time. The only space he knew was within the walls that had been his prison.

  A doorway at the end of the corridor led out into a small lobby with a bank of elevators. The far wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling gss panels, providing a breathtaking view of the Riyadh skyline at night. It was the first time that Ryan truly understood where he had been for the st six weeks.

  “Zero, Five One, We have passed Athena. I say again, we have passed Athena. Requesting Exfil on Alpha,” the soldier spoke into his radio. The man paused for a moment while he waited for an answer.

  Ryan was mesmerized by the twinkling lights of the city below. With how quiet it had been in his cell, he had always assumed that they were held somewhere on the outskirts of the city. What he hadn’t considered was that they were merely far above street level. That they were so brazen to keep them all locked up here in the middle of a city was a terrifying realization.

  “Copy Exfil, Five One proceeding.” The man replied before steering Ryan towards the bank of elevators. Keying his radio again, he spoke to his teammates instead. “Ok, guys, fallback tothe roof for Alpha extract, we’re Oscar Mike.”

  “What about the other girls?” Ryan asked as the elevator doors closed behind him. “What happens to them now?”

  The soldier removed his gsses and rubbed a pair of weatherworn eyes. “Saudi cops are incoming, we’ll be long gone before they bother us. The others should be safe, I guess. Honestly, I don’t know, our mission is you.”

  “Why did they forget me?” Ryan asked, his voice trembling. “It was never meant to… I…” tears rolled from her eyes as she released the pain of the st six weeks. Every hand that had touched her, every viotion that she had suffered seemed to burn her very skin.

  “Hush now, I got you, kid,” the soldier murmured, his expression softening as he wrapped her in his arms. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

  Alessandra allowed herself to cry into the man’s shoulder as the elevator rose up through the floors. The pain and relief that coursed through her body were sending a complicated wave of emotions through her system. She wanted to cry, to excise the horror of her experiences, and yet, her response to the trauma ashamed her.

  Her mind told her that she should be Ryan, that she should be the man that they all knew she really was. The silk, the perfume, and the cosmetics were not fooling any of them. She was an intelligence officer, and this was just an assignment. Ryan Knight wasn’t weak; he wasn’t a victim.

  Somehow, convincing herself of that reality was so very difficult to embrace at the moment. Being Alessandra de Luca still felt far less humiliating. Alessandra could be saved, she could cry, and she could ask for help. Ryan, however, had to be strong, and she simply didn’t have it in her.

  The elevator doors opened, and the soldier gave her a reassuring squeeze before hoisting her up into his arms. Alessandra wanted to protest; she wanted to feel more shame that he was treating her like a broken doll. Overwhelmed by shame, relief, grief, and etion, she did not have the energy to fight back. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and leaned into his chest.

  She could worry about all of this ter, now that she knew there was going to be a ter.

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