“We’re never gonna fucking get what we need, Xav. He’s never gonna let us go. It will be him or us, and I’ll be fucking damned if he walks away alive while we end up in fucking body bags.”
“If he figures it all out, Vic, there will be no body bags!”
I punch the bathroom door as I walk into it and fire the shower up. I can see him out of the corner of my eye, shaking his head as he follows me in, picking up my clothes and tossing them in the laundry basket. I climb in the shower and start my ritual. I count. I take a deep breath, then count some more. I can handle anything, but meetings with Father generally turn into a fucking shit show. I can tamper down any emotion until it comes to him, then they all rear their ugly heads, and I can’t whack-a-mole the fuckers back down quick enough. I keep breathing, keep counting. Some days, it’s ten; others, it’s ninety-five. I count till I can calm down. It’s all I’ve got.
I feel him step in behind me and slide his arms around my waist, holding my body to his and kissing the tattoo on the back of my neck. I’d be lost without Xav, and he grounds me when it comes to Father. He knows just what I need. I don’t need words. I need to be held. He’s the only one who has ever held me, cared for me. When I was a child, he would look after me. Training was gruelling, and we didn’t have a childhood growing up. We weren’t allowed to be children. We were soldiers. We didn’t have toys or games, no one tucked us in at night, no one read us bedtime stories, or kissed our knees better when we skinned them or wiped our tears when we cried. If anything, we would get a backhander if we were caught crying. It shows weakness; Father tried to convince us before beating it into us. We had weapons in place of toys, lessons on torture instead of bedside stories, and discipline insteadof nurture. Once I’ve finished counting and breathing, I sag against him and kiss his cheek, and he steps away.
Xav
Chapter VI
“So, what do we know?” she asks.
I start filling her in. “Gustav Koch. German child trafficker who prefers to sample the goods himself before selling them to the highest bidder. He trawls orphanages…”
Her heckles are up, and her eyes narrow at the mention of this. It’s a sore spot for her. We were both snatched from orphanages under the guise of a better life. Father promised us the world, but all we are is soldiers fighting in a war for the richest assholes making only them richer, using us for their ill-gotten gains to level their playing field. The Collective is the association we work for, a prestigious guild of assassin soldiers run by the governments and provided by the military. We don’t exist. We don’t even have names. I’m (VI) Six, and Vic is (X) Ten. There were others, once upon a time.Father tried to create super soldiers. Genetically modified children who were meant to form an army and become assassins to supposedly rid the world of the corrupt. Needless to say, certain genetically modified models didn’t survive. Vic and I are the lucky ones, I suppose you could say. The ‘infusions’ we were given didn’t work, but they didn’t kill us either. We were supposed to be a starting block to create an unstoppable army to protect our country. In reality, most of us died, and now we’re used to push The Collective’s agendas.
However, as all that happens with rich, powerful men who want to fight corruption and save the world, they ruin it and become more corrupt.
“Vic… you good?” She closes her eyes but nods, and I carry on giving her the details of the hit. “This isn’t gonna be as easy as normal. You can’t just go in there to fuck him. You’re too… old,” I say, wincing, but she nods.
“I need to be set up as an orphanage caretaker. He needs to believe I can supply him with children, and then I will gut him like the fucking pig he is!” She spits before standing aggressively, scraping the chair across the floor, and turning abruptly.
“Vic…” I stand, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Can you do this?”
She spins on me, snarling, “Don’t fucking insult me, Xav. Set up the fucking meeting. I don’t give a shit where. I will murder the rat bastard where he stands!” She turns and storms into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
“Fuck’s sake.”
I go back to the laptop and start figuring out how the hell we’re going to commandeer an actual orphanage and make this look legit.
The door flings open, and Vic has her workout gear on, jet-black hair and deep brown contacts. She never leaves this house without a disguise. I’m sure I’m the only one who knows what she truly looks like. I’m not even sure Father remembers her dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes anymore. I’m not sure he truly ever saw her; he resents her for surviving. I’m sure he wished one of the other boys had been in her place.
She is stuffing her headphones in. “I’m going out.” and she’s out of the door before I can reply.
I sigh. The kids hit her hardest, as we know first-hand how rough it can be, but we were actually lucky. Well… I was. Vic, I’m not one hundred per cent sure. Yes, we were experimented on, but thankfully, for us, it was unsuccessful. Yes, we were beaten. One time, Vic was beaten within an inch of her life for saying ‘no’. We were trained to be assassins, but we were never raped… well, I suppose if you think about it, we were, but we were conditioned to believe that’s just how it was. We were trained in combat, how to read people, how to seduce people. For us, sex is just another weapon to wield. At least we had each other, which is more than the others had. They died alone and afraid, and knowing the men and women at the lab, probably more horribly than we could even imagine.
Vic
Chapter VII
“Three days. Gustav has a meeting at the orphanage in Goslar, a small town in Germany. While you were out”—he pauses, looking me up and down— “I confirmed all the details. I’ve set you up as the area coordinator, so we will fly in tomorrow. You’ll meet with the house mother, and then when Gustav comes to the meeting, you two will be familiar. She thinks he’s a benefactor, and you’re there to shmooze him.”
I nod, standing from the chair and pacing across the open space. I try to calm my racing mind, but when it comes to kids, I don’t like putting them in harm’s way, and even having them in the same building as Gustav is already a step too far for me. “Do you need me to come in with you as your… assistant, maybe?”
“No, I’ve got this. I need to head to the warehouse to create a wardrobe. Don’t wait up.”
“Vic?”
Iglance back at him, but he shakes his head. He knows better than to second-guess me or my capabilities. I grab my keys and leave.
After meeting with the orphanage house mother, she seems a little dumb. She so easily accepts what I say rather than checking for proper credentials, which already has my back up. I can see her willingly handing over however many children Gustav wants and waving as they leave for their new lives of misery, slavery, and repeatedly being beaten and raped. She won’t spare a second thought, feeling happy that she’s helped give them a ‘fresh start’.
I introduce myself to some of the kids. I pick a few to be lingering while Gustav is here, the prettier ones. I know it’s sick, but I need him distracted, and he will lay a hand on them over my dead body. I will quite happily shank him in front of them all if it means I get him to keep his hands to himself. I ask some of the kids to show me around, and I take note of all the little titbits they can offer. They know these halls, hidden spaces, and secret areas better than anyone. It’s all about reading body language, micro-expressions, timid looks, glances, and the minutest of interactions. They will tell it all without uttering a word.
The meeting is tomorrow, so I do a walkthrough of the orphanage. I map the area and the escape routes if this goes south. I take note of the locks on the windows and doors, as well as their security features or lackthereof. I have it all mapped out before I leave and head back to the hotel.
I head over to the orphanage for the meeting. I arrive early as I can’t bear to have Gustav alone with the kids.
