It was around 1:30 a.m. when the driver finally dropped Andy and Nick off at their cover location; their home for the foreseeable future. As far as Andy could tell, with the lack of lighting from street lamps, the building was made of gray bricks that had become dull and dirty over time. Trash littered the ground in front of the apartment complex. The entire street had a feel of neglect and in the distance figures could be seen standing outside of a small convenience store, which was the only source of light on the otherwise deserted street.
"Are you ready?" asks their driver, turning his head to stare at both of them.
Andy nods her head while Nick gives an emphatic, "Of course!"
"Ok, here is the key to your apartment," says the driver, handing two key chains containing one gold and one silver key each to Andy. "Apartment 423. There's only one bedroom but the couch folds out into a bed. You've got the files containing your cover story and the details of your assignment. Your handler will be in touch shortly. Follow the orders given to you and we should have this case wrapped up in a few months."
Andy and Nick glance and each other and slowly step out of the dark sedan. As soon as the doors shut behind them the car drives off, giving a reddish tinge to the surrounding buildings. They walk to the front door of the old building and Andy fumbles with the keys, trying to find the perfect match to open the door.
"Gold one opens the main door," says Andy. Taking a deep breath she steps over the threshold into her new life, with Nick following closely behind. There's no elevator so they climb the stairs trying to make as little noise as possible.
"Hey, if anything, at least we'll get a pretty good thigh workout from these stairs every day," Nick says. "Our asses are going to be even more toned than they already are!" Andy gives a slight chuckle. That's Nick, always trying to make her feel better.
They finally reach apartment 423 and Andy takes the silver key and unlocks the door. It's sparsely furnished. An avocado colored couch that looks like it's from the '70s, a scarred end table with a lamp sitting on top of it, and a TV sitting on a stand against the wall across from the couch. There's a bookshelf with a few knickknacks scattered among the shelves and about 10 or so books stacked on it.
They both make their way over to the small kitchen. "Refrigerator, oven, microwave," Nick says, taking stock. "Well, at least we won't starve." Andy opens the door to the fridge. "Hey, there's even already some food in here," she says.
A quick check of the bedroom reveals a full-sized bed, lamp, nightstand, dresser, and closet. The bathroom; a single sink and a shower with a lime green shower curtain adorned with yellow daisies.
By unspoken agreement, they both make their way over to the brown vinyl square card table just off the kitchen. Nick plunks his bag down on one of the chairs while Andy sets hers on top of the table. Reaching for the project files given to her, she flips open to the first page.
"We might as well get our stories down," she tiredly states. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep much tonight anyways."
Nick nods his head and pulls the file out of his bag too. "Alright, I am now Justin Vreeland. I spent two years at Maplehurst for running drugs and just finished my parole. Now that I'm no longer being watched so closely by the government, I'm looking to get back to my former habits because, let's face it, working as a mechanic just doesn't pay the bills. "
"I'm Alex Marshall; the faithful girlfriend," Andy adds. "A few drug possession charges. Probably picked up the habit from my loving boyfriend. One incident of solicitation for sexual favors. Ha! Apparently I'm not too devoted to you."
"Hey, those bills have to be paid," Nick says with a smirk. "I can't do everything around here." He flips to the next page. "Our target is Dmitri Vasilyev. He's a Russian immigrant who decided to start a side business of importing drugs and young girls to supplement the income from his shipping business. It's perfect actually; pay off the Customs agents and your shipment of underage girls and drugs makes its way to Canada without a hitch. Some of the girls come voluntarily with the promise of a new life full of opportunities; some are kidnapped for their looks. After five years of service, they are set free to do whatever they want."
"Yeah, except that after five years, most of them are so hooked to the drugs supplied by their pimps or they're already dead," Andy says angrily. "It's like being an indentured servant. 'Pay off your debt and then your free.' In the past three years 12 girls have been murdered. All rumored to have run away from the life. They obviously didn't get very far."
"These guys are brutal," Nicks agrees, flipping through photos of some of the murder victims. "Knife wounds, gun shots, rape. Whatever it takes to get the message across to the other girls. Once you're in, you're stuck. And unfortunately, we haven't been able to tie anything concrete to Dmitri."
Andy sighs. "So you'll be working at the shipping yard trying to get closer to the chain of command while I'm stuck here all day. Why did they even need me in the first place?"
"The shipping company is just a way to get the goods into Canada," Nick explains. "The real action takes place at a club he owns called Entice. It's exclusive, as in no one gets in without an invitation. The girls meet their clients at the club. There are rooms in the back where they can go for a little privacy. Apparently a few of the guys at the docks have girlfriends that work there. I'm going to talk you up. See if I can get you a job waitressing. After all, you do have experience. Stopping the prostitution ring is the endgame. The drugs are just an added bonus."
Andy gets up from the table and walks over to lean against the kitchen counter. "Ok, in the meantime I guess I'll help you strategize, see if I can pick up any chatter about the operation without seeming too nosy." She lets out a huge yawn. "Alright, I'm dead on my feet. I'm going to get ready for bed."
Nick jumps up. "Right! You can have the bed and I'll take the couch," he says, throwing his duffel bag in the direction of the living room.
"Don't be silly," Andy protests. "We'll trade off. One week I'll have the bed and the next week you'll have it. I'm not taking no for an answer. Don't go all chivalrous Marine on me."
"Ok, ok," Nick agrees, nodding his head in consolation.
They both quietly go about getting ready for bed. Before Andy closes the door to the bedroom she turns to Nick who is already lying on the couch. "Nick," she asks softly, "do you think we did the right thing? Leaving everyone behind, I mean."
"I don't know," he replies with a shake of his head. "I don't know."