Ch. 17
"Good evening, my name is Commander Tuvok. I'm with Starfleet Security. I need to speak with Mister Jonathon Mercado."
The old Trill that answered the door looked suspiciously at the Vulcan before opening the door further and allowing him entrance into the foyer of the grand house. "Wait here, please."
Tuvok nodded serenely as the man hurriedly ascended the marble staircase. Pretending to admire a large plant in the middle of the foyer, he covertly placed a device among the leafy branches. It defied logic that he found himself in the home of one of the senators currently sitting on the Federation Council at ten o'clock in the evening, but as with many things involving Kathryn Janeway, Tuvok was willing to set aside his incredulity and trust his hunches. After all, the information they had received today pinpointed this home as a central hub in a sex slavery ring that spanned the entire quadrant.
Hearing footsteps, he looked up in time to see the old Trill descending the staircase a few steps behind a man wearing a tuxedo. Tuvok surmised the Senator had been at a function earlier in the evening as his tie was now hanging haphazardly around his neck and the collar of his shirt was unbuttoned. The human didn't look upset or angry, but nor did he look welcoming as he descended the last of the steps and crossed the foyer.
"This is a rather irregular visit, Commander…"
"Tuvok," he supplied. "I apologize for the late hour. Your name came up as a person of contact in a current investigation, and I needed to ask you a few questions. I hope to only take a few minutes of your time."
"A person of contact? I don't suppose I need to call my lawyer, do I?"
"Hardly, sir. It is more a matter of routine," Tuvok replied, his lack of humor deflating the senator's jocularity. "I do not believe my presence here will require any sort of legal consultation."
"Uh huh. Well." Mercado cleared his throat before gesturing to a door to his right. "Might as well take this into the lounge. I don't suppose I can offer you a brandy?"
"A drink will not be necessary," he said, following Mercado, "but I thank you for the offer."
B'Elanna growled as she listened to the exchange over the open comm. frequency. "Take the damn drink, Tuvok. You'll buy us more time."
"Was he able to activate the dispersal field?" Chakotay asked, crouching down next to her outside the house. At B'Elanna's nod, he touched his comm. badge. "All right, Harry, start your scans. Paris, can you transport us inside yet?"
"Give me one more minute. This place rivals Fort Knox. Even with the dispersal node activated, this guy's got a net on a rotating frequency."
"Captain, I'm only picking up three life signs inside. One is with Tuvok, but the other is moving around the house. I still can't penetrate all the rooms, though."
Chakotay gave B'Elanna a questioning glance. She put away the tricorder and patted her sheathed d'k tgh blade; she was with him. They were either about to break open a cover up that included officials in the highest realms of government, or become the criminals people had once thought they were.
"Got it."
Paris's voice barely registered before Chakotay found himself still crouching, but now he was next to a marble staircase instead of the hedge outside. B'Elanna tucked down next to him and pulled her tricorder back out. She quickly pointed out the room where Tuvok and Mercardo were, and she and Chakotay both began moving away from it and further into the expansive home. Moving as quickly as they could, both with tricorders out, they moved from room to room, looking for anything that would confirm the information they'd been given.
After clearing the rooms on the first floor, they'd managed to remain undetected, but they'd also found nothing. Flashing B'Elanna a hand signal, Chakotay indicated that he was going to move up the stairs. Just before he made his move, she caught the back of his shirt. The Trill had just come out of one of the front rooms and was headed in their direction. They both flattened themselves against the wall as much as possible. B'Elanna tightened her grip on the blade she carried, not wanting to have to use it if she could possibly help it. Perspiration beaded on her skin as they listened to the shuffling footsteps grew closer to their position.
And then they stopped. In the middle of the hall. B'Elanna could feel Chakotay holding his breath next to her. She could hear her own heart beating wildly in her chest. What the hell was the old Trill doing just standing in the middle of the room? She slowly unsheathed the dagger, preparing to throw it so the hilt would strike the old man in the head instead of the blade. Her mother would not be pleased with her restraint, but she really didn't want to kill the man. At least, not until she knew what role he played in this affair. After counting five more breaths, she cautiously peeked around the column that was acting as her hiding place.
The old Trill was staring right at her. She sucked in a breath, tensing the muscles in her arm and shoulder. And then he slowly nodded at her. What the hell? She knew Chakotay was growing restless, but she placed her free hand against him, letting him know not to move. The old man jerked his chin, indicating that she should follow him and then began moving past the staircase and into one of the rooms they'd already surveyed. It had been a parlor of some sort, if she remembered correctly, several plush chairs, a fireplace, but nothing that had grabbed her attention.
Moving cautiously, they followed the old man into the room, but he was already gone through a side door leading into an adjoining room. Chakotay whispered, "That side door over there was locked when we came through the first time, and nothing registered on the other side of it."
"Is he helping us? Or just setting us up?" B'Elanna hissed, holding her tricorder out, scanning as much of the room as possible without going too far inside.
Chakotay tapped her shoulder. "I'm going to follow him. Scan every inch of this room. Maybe you'll find something." He moved quickly across the room to the now open doors. Glancing inside he didn't see any movement, and he cautiously moved past the doors.
It was a strange room. There was a small lectern towards the front with an open area next to it. The rest of the room had a graduated incline with a dozen or so plush chairs spaced evenly in alternating rows, each with a desk and a lamp next to it. It reminded him of some of the classrooms at the academy, but none of those had been this small or this extravagantly decorated. A sweet, almost cloying perfume hung in the air, and it didn't escape his notice that the old Trill was nowhere to be seen.
"Chakotay!" B'Elanna's hiss startled him, and he ducked back into the room.
"What is it?" he asked, coming to her side where she was kneeling next to one of the high backed chairs.
"She was here." Her voice was almost a whisper as she showed him the readings on the tricorder. He glanced once at the readings and felt his heart go into his throat. Crouching down, he followed the readings of the tricorder as they increased in intensity until he saw it.
Four perfectly shaped crescent marks were gouged into the arm of the chair.
Tuvok's keen Vulcan hearing alerted him seconds before the doors to the lounge were slammed open, and Chakotay, followed closely by B'Elanna, stormed into the room.
"What the hell-" Mercado managed to say before the glass of brandy was knocked from his hand, and the raging force that had just entered the room slammed him against the shelves lining the walls, causing several items to topple over onto the floor.
"WHERE IS SHE?"
Spit hit Mercado in the face as he stared into the tattooed face of the enraged man whose hands were now twisting into his shirt. Slowly, it dawned on him that he recognized the furious human from all the news vids of Voyager's homecoming. Admiral Janeway's husband. He'd been told this problem had been taken care of. He'd have to have a word with Milo-
The elbow that smashed into his face, breaking his nose took Mercado by surprise, and he fell to the ground, released by the man called Chakotay.
"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"
Mercado could feel blood gushing across his face and knew he was getting it on the carpet. That angered him more than the human raging above him did. He wiped his hand across his face. "Do you have any idea who I am? You have just-"
Chakotay reached down and hauled the man to his feet, driving a fist into the man's stomach, followed by an uppercut to his chin. Mercado flew backwards against the shelves, shattering a vase from Betazed that he'd purchased only two weeks before. He slid down to the floor again, gasping for air. Where the hell was that damn Trill when he needed him?
"It would be wise to tell us whatever information you possess regarding the whereabouts of Kathryn Janeway," the Vulcan said, kneeling next to him.
"Go to hell!" Mercado spat at him. He should've known the security man was in on it. When he'd shown up saying he had questions regarding an investigation, Mercado had been concerned. But after conversing with the man, he'd relaxed, believing the obscure questions he'd been asking had had nothing to do with him or Milo's operation.
"Get up!" Chakotay grabbed the Senator again by the lapels, dragging him to his feet. "Tell me where my wife is, and I might let you live."
"I know who you are. I've seen you on the news, and I've seen the reports. Your wife is dead," Mercado ground out. "And you're just having some grief fueled psychotic episode."
"Supposedly, my wife died days ago," Chakotay said his voice going deathly quiet, "and yet there're traces of her DNA in your parlor that are less than twenty-four hours old."
"That's not possible." The Trill had assured him he'd cleaned up the room. If he'd lied about that…
"We found part of her fingernail gouged into the leather of one of your chairs."
Mercado looked to his left as the small woman with the ridged forehead joined the conversation. She was part of the crew, also. It dawned on him now why the Vulcan had looked familiar as well. Had the entire ship beamed into his house? Chakotay shook him, forcing his attention back on him.
"I don't want to think about what kind of duress my wife was under to have left marks like that," Chakotay choked on the words even as he pulled the man closer to him, "but I assure you, they will be nothing compared to the marks you'll leave if you don't start talking."
"You have no idea what you've gotten involved with here," Mercado spat. "I suggest you go home before your daughter-"
The growl that emanated from the man holding him was the only warning Mercado had before he felt his feet leave the floor. He slid head first into the bottles lining the bar and felt more than one of them shatter, spraying him with smoky liquids. Hands grabbed onto his back, pulling him backwards and then rolling him over. The glass shards cut into his back, and he felt the spilled liquors soaking into his jacket, but the thing that got his attention was the very dangerous looking knife that flashed before his eyes seconds before he felt the extremely sharp edge of it pressing into the soft flesh of his neck.
"I'm going to give you one more chance to tell me what I want to know," Chakotay growled, his hand with the knife holding steadier than his breathing, "or you're going to regret it."
"I told you. I don't kn-"
Mercado screamed in pain as the dagger sliced into his upper leg. He instinctively tried to sit up, reaching for the wound, but was slammed down again, the knife back at his throat sliding across his skin, silencing his struggles before he impaled himself accidentally.
"The next cut will be deeper and more painful, but I assure you, it won't kill you."
"You're insane-"
Again the dagger slashed, causing Mercado to cry out as a red line of fire erupted across his chest. B'Elanna shifted the weight on her feet anxiously, stealing a glance at Tuvok, surprised he hadn't intervened.
"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" Chakotay thundered at the man he had pinned down on the bar.
"Okay, all right," Mercado cried out, his words now spilling out of his mouth. "She's downstairs. There's hidden…hidden rooms…downstairs. Ask the Trill, he'll show you."
:)