CHAPTER XV
Ludwig sighed, rubbing his aching temples. It had been a long, uneventful day at the station, and just when his shift was about to end, a call came in from the receptionist at the front desk. "Officer Weillschmidt, a kid claiming to be your brother and some other people are here to see you. They say it's urgent."
"All right," the German replied, "tell them I'll be right out." As Ludwig left his desk, heading to the lobby, he wondered what could be so pressing that his brother had to visit him at work.
"There you are!" Gilbert shouted when the man walked into the waiting area. "It's about fucking time, West!"
"Don't curse," Ludwig scolded, several blonde strands of slicked back hair unraveling as he massaged his temples. He recognized Alfred and his father; the boy was rather distraught. "What's the problem?"
"Long story short, we're sure our friends were kidnapped by the human trafficking ring they ran away from, and we need to save them."
An incredulous look on his face, Ludwig stated, "…Okay, I need to hear the full story. Come with me." They followed him back into the office area, and the German took a seat at his desk. "Now, what exactly happened here?"
"Matthew and Toris ran away from a human trafficking ring in New York," Gilbert explained, "and Matt was living with Al for awhile; Toris stayed with another guy, Feliks. Today, Al came home and Matt was gone, only leaving this note. A similar one was left at Feliks's place."
He handed the letters to his older brother, who scanned over the words. "There are several technicalities, one being that Feliks does not own a printer. The two would have had to have printed the notes at Al's house. However, they signed their names at the end in pen. Why not just write with a pen from the beginning? Also, the notes' generic quality is even more suspicious because they are so formal - there are no contractions. The point is that this is completely out of character for either of them since they contradict their feelings."
"Feelings?"
Gilbert glanced to Alfred, as if to ask if it was okay to bring up the American's relationship. After receiving a dismal nod, he continued. "Matthew and Alfred just started going steady a few days before this happened, and things were going well between Toris and Feliks. It makes no sense for the two to just up and go."
"Gilbert, you know that people are fickle with their emotions," Ludwig argued.
"Matthew loves me!" Alfred cut in, holding back tears as he lost the little composure he had. "I-If you don't believe me, then read his journal!" Opening the notebook to the correct page, he thrust the papers into Ludwig's face. As the man read the entry, his face flushed slightly at the mention of love-making. "Can you really believe he would just leave after writing that?"
"He is…enthusiastic in his writing, I'll give you that. But Alfred, people's feelings can change at the drop of a pin-"
"But we made love!" Al shouted, grabbing everyone's attention.
"Alfred, I know that," the German asserted, uncomfortable with how the rest of the officers were staring in their direction now.
"R-Right before, he told me how- how he never wanted to leave! He said he couldn't ever imagine himself leaving! H-He wrote all of that down! Can't you read?"
"I need you to listen to me. Your case is compelling, and I admit that this is all incredibly suspicious, but suspicion is not enough to prove someone was kidnapped, much less start a search."
"You- You just don't care!" Alfred moved to hit the man, but his father held him back. "Matt and Feliks are right! You don't care! The police have never cared about whores, even if they're victims of trafficking!"
"Alfred, calm down!" Arthur ordered, his son squirming in his hold.
"Well- Well, let me tell you, you German bastard, Matthew is pure! Absolutely pure! M-More pure than you'll ever be!"
At this point, the American was hysterical, tears streaming down his cheeks as he broke down in his father's arms. "M-My Matthew could be being used r-right now, a-and you don't even care."
Empathizing with his friend, Gilbert returned his gaze to his brother, determined to make their case. "West, look, Matt and Toris were part of a human trafficking ring, okay? That means that every day, disgusting men were raping them while their paychecks went to a pimp. Why the hell would they risk being put through that again by leaving somewhere they knew was safe? They're both immigrants unfamiliar with American laws and they have nowhere else to go. This doesn't make any sense at all."
The albino picked up the journal and flipped to the page Alfred had shown him earlier. "We have the ringleader's name and we have the address of his hotel, where Matthew's writings indicate the ring is centered. I went through this on the way here, and he has many detailed accounts of his exploitation. Now, whether you believe Matt and Toris were kidnapped or not, there is a monster out there prostituting people, and there is a high chance that they are at this hotel. Even if they're not, this menace can be brought to justice." He tossed the notebook to Ludwig and let him flip through the pages of heartrending documentation. "Is that not enough probable cause for you?"
Contemplating the evidence before him with much scrutiny, along with everything he had been told that evening, Ludwig made up his mind. "…There is not much I can do here since this is going on in New York. I'll have to pay a visit to the NYPD and convince them."
"West, you're awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed, pulling his older brother into a tight hug. "Not as awesome as me, though."
"Let go," the German commanded. "I need to call them. It would be better than just dropping in unannounced."
The albino released the man from his hold, letting him pick up the phone at his desk and dial the correct number. After explaining that he needed to discuss the case with the NYPD, Ludwig hung up and grabbed his coat off the chair. "Now, I want you all to go home and let me handle this. My shift is over, so I'll head up there right now."
"No way!" Alfred protested, following the German out the door. "I'm coming with you!"
"Same," Gil agreed, not wanting to miss out on any of the action.
Ludwig sighed, knowing how difficult it would be to talk the two out of it. It would only waste precious time. "Well, Gilbert, you're persuasive and know how to make a point. You'd probably make a good lawyer if you focused more on school. I'm going to need you to help make our case." Turning to the Brit, he asked, "…Mr. Kirkland, are you okay with Alfred coming along?"
Arthur mulled over the facts. "…Well, you are a certified police officer. Alfred is a crucial witness to this case; I know that. As long as you keep him on the sidelines, I have no reason to refuse."
"All right, then let's get going. I want to get there before eleven."
Gilbert eagerly ran to the car as Ludwig walked briskly. Before leaving, Alfred glanced to his father and embraced him. "Th-Thanks, Dad."
"Be safe," Arthur spoke softly, running fingers through his son's short hair. "Now, go and bring them back."
Nodding, the American sprinted after the rest, his heart pounding. As Ludwig put the vehicle in "drive" and pulled out of the parking lot, Al peered through the back window.
He waved as he watched the figure of his father became smaller and smaller.
. . .
"Brother hasn't returned yet," Natalia mused, resting her elbows on the hotel's front desk. "It's past eleven. Why isn't he back yet?"
Eduard Von Bock, managing the laptop next to her, replied, "He's probably still at the house. The pets need to be reprogrammed."
"I could be there helping him, but instead he chose Ismael!" she complained, her platinum blonde hair whipping around as she turned to face him. "All he's been doing lately is spending time with Ismael! Why didn't he choose me to for the recapture and reprogramming?"
Smiling awkwardly, the Estonian answered, "W-Well, you're better at financial and business management than Ismael. You should be happy that he puts so much trust in you." Though he knew the real reason was because the woman tended to freak Ivan out with her desire to marry him. Of course, that wasn't even possible since the two were siblings, but it was still creepy, even for the Russian.
When she just muttered something to herself and looked away, Eduard sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he returned his eyes to the laptop's monitor. He had several security camera feeds on display from the different rooms in the hotel, and it was rather discomfiting to watch six screens of clients getting their share of the pets. The streets had been lucky for the whores, and each brought many men back to the hotel throughout the day. Still, in the few years he had worked managing the technology in the ring, the sight was never any less disturbing.
Sometimes, Eduard wondered why he got caught up in human trafficking in the first place. Then he would remember how he was an ITT Tech graduate strapped for cash, desperate for any work he could find. After months of no luck, he met Ivan, who offered him a job working computers. Once involved, it was impossible to leave unless he wanted a bullet to the head.
He sighed, focusing on a particular screen observing the front entrance to the hotel. There was some movement coming into the picture and it caught his attention.
"…Oh no," he uttered, green eyes wide.
"What is it?" Natalia asked, sensing the dread in his voice. She slid her chair over so she could see the monitor. Several police cars had parked outside, the officers emerging from the vehicles' doors.
"Th-This isn't good…"
"Eduard," the woman commanded, "I'll handle things down here. Take the laptop upstairs with you and get the pets out of there. If all else fails, do whatever you can to prevent the police from getting to the third floor."
"A-Affirmative." The Estonian gathered his laptop and various wires, rushing to the elevator. Pressing the correct floor along with the button for the doors to close, he ascended through the shaft right before the police entered the building.
"Welcome to the Sunflower Hotel," Natalia greeted them with her best poker face. "How can I help you this evening?"
One of the six officers walked forward to the desk. "We need to speak with Ivan Braginski. He is the owner of this establishment, correct?"
Keeping a sense of confident equanimity, Natalia simply answered, "I'm sorry, but he is still out on business. If you would like, I can take a message for when he returns."
"Do you know where he went?"
"Unfortunately, no. He often goes off on his own and leaves the hotel management to me without notice."
Glancing to her nametag, he asked, "Your name is Natalia, is it not?"
"That is true."
"Are you by any means related to Ivan?"
"I am his sister."
"Shouldn't someone as close to him as his sister know where he goes?"
Resisting the overwhelming urge to scream that of course she knew, as she always kept tabs on her brother, the woman replied, "…I already told you, I haven't a clue."
"Miss Natalia," the cop addressed her, his tone suddenly firm and accusatory, "we have a warrant to search this establishment. If anything foul is going on inside this hotel, we're going to find out. We'll find Ivan one way or another, so you might as well tell us now."
She only laughed, smirking cruelly. "Search to your heart's content, but you'll find nothing."
Taking her up on her offer, the officer ordered the other five to get to work. They immediately moved to the elevator, but it refused to open. "Ah, it must have broken down," Natalia calmly stated, knowing the truth: Eduard had messed with the elevator to keep it from running.
"We're going to need a technician," a policeman asserted. "Miss Natalia, is there any other way to get upstairs?"
"No." Yet, that was a lie. There were the metal stairs scaling the back of the building, attached to the balcony outside the designated headquarters on the third floor. Almost like a fire escape, it was a way for the clients to leave should the circumstances become complicated.
Unfortunately, Ismael still had the van, so there were no means to get the pets out while still keeping control over them. That meant there was no way she could let the police reach the third floor. In other words, she would have to dispose of them.
"Check outside the building," the man in charge ordered a few of the policemen. "You two, search everything on this floor."
Obeying his commands, the first group tried to leave via the front entrance, but the doors wouldn't budge. "Sir, the doors won't open!"
"Same here!" the other group attempting to pass through the lobby to the dining area called out.
"It's futile," Natalia explained, a sick grin on her face. "Everything in the hotel is controlled from Eduard's laptop. That means he can lock all the doors and windows with a click of the mouse. Technology really is amazing, don't you think?"
The chief froze, eerie blue eyes leering at him. "Still…" she began as she hiked up her dress to reveal a knife strapped to her leg, "I've always been more old-fashioned."
Before he could even respond, the blade plunged into his heart. The other officers watched in horror as the knife was pulled out and the man fell to the floor, blood gushing from his chest.
"CHIEF!"
"O-Officer down!" One of them shouted into a two-way radio. "Send backup and an ambulance immediately!"
Natalia cackled as the police drew their guns, too afraid to come close in case she stabbed them next. "Natalia, put down the knife!"
She tossed the knife onto the desk, lifting up her blue dress again to exchange it for a revolver. "I was hoping we could handle things silently, but I suppose it wasn't meant to be."
"Put down the gun!"
"Picky aren't you?" the woman teased, her eyes alive with madness. "So, who will shoot first, you or me?"
"We are prepared to shoot if you do not back down!"
As if Natalia did not believe their words, she pulled ever so little on the trigger, counting down, "Three…"
She cried out as a bullet pierced the skin of her hand, knocking the revolver away. With rabid intensity, Natalia glowered at the policeman that shot at her, smoke wafting from his gun. Then the glare turned to a sinister smile and she laughed.
"Red…" she spoke, staring at the liquid dripping from her skin, "…isn't it a lovely color?" Grabbing the dagger off the desk with her undamaged hand, Natalia looked to them with wide, radical eyes. "Blood is red, for royals, it's blue. Please tell me, which color will spurt from you?"
Threatened, the police shot at her feet as the woman ran toward them. She stumbled, unable to stand up with the pain searing through her. But if Natalia felt pain, she didn't show it from the way she was laughing, sprawled out on the floor.
Now that she was incapacitated, the cops walked lowered their guns and walked over. "Natalia, you are under arrest for the murder of our chief," a policeman informed her, handcuffing her hands behind her back.
"AH HA HA HA!" she cackled gleefully, the twisted leer on her face refusing to leave. "Oh, it does not matter if I am taken! Brother is free. Brother will get away and pick up elsewhere. As long as he has a whore or two, the business will thrive! IT WILL THRIVE!"
Even as backup arrived and broke down the doors, her laughter did not fade, but merely blended with the sirens engulfing the city.
. . .
"So the squad went around back and found stairs leading to the third floor, which was where the hotel kept the prostitutes," an officer at the precinct explained to another as they prepared to leave. "The guys from Jersey were right: it was a human trafficking ring. And Braginski's sister practically admitted it in her crazed rant."
"Did they find the two guys they were looking for?" the other asked.
"Not yet, and the leader himself is still missing."
A third policeman walked over with news. "Men, the technical assistant working for Braginski just cracked. Ivan's at his house with his partner, Ismael. He says they've got the other two there. I've got the address right here…" The cop recited the street name and number.
"Wait, don't we need a warrant?"
"There's a high chance that Braginski might flee or kill the other kids in an attempt to hide the evidence. After all, the case is all over the news. So we're declaring this an exigent circumstance. Let's get going."
At that, they left the office area with other policemen, for they were likely to need plenty of backup. The whole time, Alfred had sat there, taking in all of their conversation. To make sure he wouldn't forget, the boy swiped a pen and wrote the street name down on his hand before bolting up from his chair.
"Al, stay here!" Gilbert demanded. His friend simply ignored the albino's pleads, quickly putting on his leather jacket.
"NYPD can handle this," Ludwig tried to reason with the American, "and I promised your father that I'd keep you on the sidelines."
Alfred turned around, glaring at both of them. "Ludwig, I can't! I can't just sit around on the sidelines while Matt's out there in serious danger! Didn't you hear them? He might get away, or worse, kill them! So, sorry, but I'm going there, and you can't stop me." He ran out the door before the two could say another word, flagging down a cab once he reached the sidewalk curb.
"Where do you need to go, kid?" the cab driver inquired, his tone that of an irritated Italian.
"I just need you to drop me off at the start of this street," Al answered, showing the man the address on his palm.
Lovino groaned internally, beginning to wonder if he was the only cab driver in New York City that picked up freaks. At least this kid wasn't like that creepy bastard that wanted to go to Jersey. Pulling away from the curb, the Italian drove off to the destination.
I'm sorry, Dad, Alfred mentally apologized as the precinct house faded from view, I said I'd be safe, but I can't guarantee that now. …But you already knew that, didn't you?
(A/N: Long chapter is long. I wasn't originally planning for Belarus to go all horror movie on the police, but the part practically wrote itself. Perhaps I should lay off the Higurashi. See you next week!)
