TW: sexual abuse, violence, language
Gil ran through the scenario. Tomorrow afternoon he would drive me to the Tenderloin to meet with his contact Omar. We weren't going to take him this time - instead we were going for his two grunts, Kahled and Yassim. They did 'in-calls' at a rundown home nearby, where only two other ACME Undercover still worked, the rest pulled for their safety.
"He'll never suspect you. I can tell you're smart, but you just don't move like ACME yet." Gil said, scratching his face with a jagged fingernail. I noticed a heavily faded but strangely familiar raised scar peeking from underneath his sleeve.
"I don't actually have to...you know... sleep with him?"
"No, honey." Gil assured me. "Of course not."
"We'd never make you do that." O'Malley added, patting my knee.
"However..." Gil continued. "Omar might want to take a look at what he's getting. If he wants to go a little further to see if I'll squirm...we'll have to pull the plug, so we want to avoid it."
"Try and stall - vomit, pee, something if he pushes." O'Malley advised. "Crying isn't enough, you'll have to make it physically unattractive."
"If Omar's satisfied he'll probably send you off to the house for later, which is where O'Malley's set up for the raid. Kahled and Yassim will most likely rough you up on the way. I apologize in advance." Gil picked his teeth with his little finger. "Give them a good fight. Even if they know that Omar is supposed to have you first, they'll see what they can get away with."
"I'll have eyes on the house the whole time. As soon as they enter with you, we're taking them down." O'Malley tilted his head. "Are you okay with all of this, Red?"
"I think so." I replied, drinking it all in.
"It's normal to be uneasy. A good thing, even, as it will keep you vigilant. Just remember - control the situation. The objective is for us to pin Kahled and Yassim for both running the ring, and knowingly bringing in minors. Do what you need to do to get things there."
Gil nodded in agreement. "You're going to do just fine, honey, I can tell. You were made for this."
I mulled over those words that night, listening as Paul's pen scratched against a notepad into the late hours, writing musings about a string of break ins involving pieces from a well known local artist. Because of the nature of what I was doing, I was unable to tell him about it, and I could tell he felt a little hurt by my withholding.
The next morning, I feigned sleep until most of the other Trainees had left the dorms. As per O'Malley's and Gil's instructions I skipped the shower, brushed my teeth and got dressed in a simple outfit of an old white t-shirt and jeans. I let out last night's braids, allowing my hair to fall in loose waves around my shoulder. A spritz of some cheap perfume behind the ear and I was ready to go, a runaway looking to make some cash.
I met Gil again in South San Francisco, where I sat in his rusty pickup truck as he called Omar to confirm the meet. I affixed the recording device I was given in my ear, hiding it with hair. As Gil was always checked if he was bugged, I was going to carry it for him and help him collect much needed evidence for his own investigation.
"If you're nervous honey, you're hiding it well." Gil complimented as he drove towards the TL.
I murmured a quiet thanks, wrapped up in my own thoughts. Gil looked over with an almost parental concern. "Although this is just a taste of things to come if you choose to go the Detective route, little one, O'Malley and I completely understand if you're not ready." He glanced at the GPS. "You have about fifteen minutes to change your mind."
"I'm still good to go." I assured him.
His lips curved upward. "Ah, of course you are. You've always been a tough one."
We pulled up to a storefront with newspaper obscuring its shuttered windows, but the door was slightly ajar. Gil pushed it open with a broad shoulder.
Omar was sitting in what would have been the manager's office towards the back. He was an attractive man despite things, with the same olive skin as my classmate Liza, and the sharp jaw of Felipe. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, displaying a heavy gold chain and a bit of brown chest hair. Still, knowing what he had done and was capable of repulsed me. I tried to keep my expression neutral as he looked at me with appraisal.
"Ah, low mileage on this one. Only fourteen." Gil said gruffly. He showed him my arms, and put a finger on my bottom lip, pulling it down to display my gums. This was to prove I was clean from drug use - a recent stray, untainted from life on the street. "She needs to be broken in, like all the young ones do, but that's nothing that can't be handled."
"You look like someone's well loved daughter." Omar came closer to me now, hand on my cheek. I flinched with distain. "What's your name?"
"Honey." I stammered.
His hand trailed lower, and my body tensed automatically in protest. "A sweet name for a sweet girl. We're going to take really good care of you." Then, to Gil. "You were right, this was a nice little present. I'll have to unwrap her later."
The two men spoke for a bit, Gil getting the information about his supplier's next shipment, which would be coming into San Francisco by the Wharf. As Kahled came to retrieve me, Gil dropped a reassuring wink. Once we exited onto the street, I struggled in the man's grasp. He roughly shoved me into the passenger seat of a dark colored sedan, where I began to cry tears that were half real as I realized I was now truly alone.
"Shut up!" the driver, Yassim warned. I cried louder. Kahled reached back, slapping me hard. The strike inflamed me, and I dropped character for a moment, attempting to attack him, drawing blood with my fingernails as they drug across the soft skin of his arm. He pulled a knife from the center console, but Yassim stopped him.
"The stupid whore belongs to the boss. We can't hurt her too much until he's had his fill." He looked at me in the mirror. "Then it's our turn."
Despite Yassim's admonishment, as they pulled up in front of the house Kahled dragged me inside, shoving me to the floor and kicking me in the side with a heavy leather sole. I tasted blood in my mouth.
Yassim shook his head. "Kahled, you aren't listening."
He pulled me to a standing position by my hair, I lunged at him, putting him off balance, but Yassim stepped in, grabbing me by the arms. I spat in his face.
Kahled punched me in the jaw, and I swore I felt my teeth loosen.
"I don't care what the boss wants. We're breaking her in first." He then laughed in my face with his foul, alcohol tinged breath.
I struggled in-between the two of them as they took me down a hall and into the first room on the right. It was surprisingly clean but bare, a few mattresses scattered on the floor. They shoved me onto my back, Kahled putting pressure on my windpipe with one hand as he pulled down my pants with the other. For the first time that day, I lost full control, screaming for help that seemed like forever to arrive, thrashing underneath him. His grip tightened around my throat. The sides of my vision grew hazy as I felt myself losing consciousness.
"ACME! Hands where I can see them!"
Kahled's body weight was lifted off of me as they attemptted to flee, the two pairs of agents quickly detaining them. O'Malley now entered the room, pulling me to a sitting position and then taking off his jacket, covering my lower half.
"Jesus Christ, Red. I'm so sorry."
I said nothing, just watched as O'Malley secured the scene from his position on the floor next to me through clipped orders. A medic approached, inspecting my face and torso with gentle gloved hands.
"Sweetheart, you weren't..." she began, now noticing the garment covering me.
"No, they didn't get that far."
A very guilty look passed over O'Malley's face at my answer.
Another agent brought me a pair of grey sweatpants, which fit a little loose, but I pulled them on thankfully. Then they photographed my injuries, taking brief notes as I retold them the events of what had occurred.
Once I was done, O'Malley put me in the back of a standard issue Suburban. He took the driver's seat. In the rearview mirror I could see the bruising on my face and around my neck beginning to darken.
"Where would you feel the most secure right now?" O'Malley's voice was gentle, as if talking to a victim and not a student.
I frowned. "I'm fine."
He exhaled. "You can be honest with me Red, I'd never think less of you for it."
I shrugged. "I mean, my body isn't happy at all...but other than that..."
"You'll have a few days off from training, definitely. I just..." Sean shook his head. "I'm sorry for pushing for this."
"You came just in time, like you promised. Gil got what he needed, and so did we." I offered him a smile, and handed him the small device. "But if you're still feeling guilty, can you take me to In-and-Out before we head back to the Agency? I'm starving."