Students rushed around, their uniforms pristine, their innocence untarnished.
Sad that the world would show them that this was the best time of their lives. The part before reality crashed in and they were exploited for their talents.
Once Olivia realized that the supervisors’ rooms were unlocked, and void of any computers, she switched her plan again.
The university dorm looked untouched.
The same color on the walls that weren’t stone or brick. The same sconce lighting that made it impossible to see but easy to sneak around at night.
Without meaning to, she found her floor, the one where she’d spent the last three years of her time at Richter, and walked to the door of her room.
“They offered me a job!” Olivia bounced on her bed, excitement in her voice.
Amelia pushed her shoulder, her smile just as huge. “I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about. You’re like the smartest person here.”
“I’m so ready to get out of this place. I’m going to be able to travel and see the world. I’m going to sleep with exotic men and wear fancy clothes.” She dropped her head on her pillow with visions of evening gowns and champagne dangling from her fingertips.
“Which company hired you?” Amelia asked.
That was the best part. “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” she said, laughing. She sat up almost as quickly as she’d flopped down. Her voice was nothing but a whisper. “Super hush- hush. It’s some kind of secret society. I think it’s run by the UN.”
“I bet my dad knows about it,” Amelia said.
“Don’t say a thing to your dad. I shouldn’t have even told you. I was told that if anyone found out I was working for them, I’d lose my job instantly.”
Amelia frowned. “That’s weird.”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s my ticket out of this place. The money I earned with the extra language classes still won’t get me a flat in Berlin for longer than a year. Now I can put that money away and add to it. I get to be an honest-to-goodness spy. Can you believe it?” She grasped Amelia’s hands, and they both squealed.
“This calls for a celebration.”
“I know where the key is to Charlie’s locker.”
Olivia placed her hand on the door as her memory faded.
The door opened and she stepped back. A young man, maybe twenty, seemed startled by her presence. “What are you doing up here?” he asked in German.
“I’m new,” she told him in German as she lifted the empty sack. “Was told to gather the dirty.”
The kid rolled his eyes. “We don’t leave them up here, they’re down the chute.” He closed the door behind him and brushed by.
“That’s no way to talk to your elders, Kellen.”
The reprimand was in English and a very familiar voice.
Kellen turned back to her, placed a smile on his face that hadn’t been there before. “My apologies, ma’am.”
The kid walked away, leaving Olivia with Checkpoint Charlie standing three feet away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leo placed his report on Brackett’s desk, tapped the file twice, and walked out of his office. The man was off for the day, but had wanted the file on his desk by morning.
So there it was, most of the details one hundred percent true, and a few were drawn a tad outside the lines.
It had been over a week since Olivia had reached out.
A week of leaving his computer on, his cell phone ringer on loud . . . and jumping anytime it rang. Even though he was distracted at work, his mind was never far away from wondering where she was and what she was doing.
Right now, the distraction came in the form of two new human trafficking cases. One that involved women being brought in from Southeast Asia to serve as anything from prostitutes to slave labor in the fashion industry. And the other involved the new management of a gang that had started finding their girls in the local youth centers.
Since Leo was well versed in teenager, he and Fitz were on point to create a relationship with the staff and teens at the Y and the Boys and Girls Club, and see if they could start narrowing down the playing field.
Fitz drove while Leo gave her directions to their first stop. At that moment, they were stuck in the ever-popular LA traffic. A complete stop on the 405 freeway.
“Why do we live here?” Fitz asked the rhetorical question.