Relentless (Option Zero #2) - Christy Reece Page 0,44
of life I wanted. I thought about directing movies, but dealing with all the egos didn’t appeal to me either. Filming documentaries didn’t interest me until I started reading up on human trafficking. It’s everywhere, in areas people could never fathom. I wanted to reveal those lies and truths.”
That wasn’t the biggest reason she’d chosen human trafficking as her first film and main focus. However, talking about her abduction and assault, as well as her near miss of being trafficked? No. Not with everything else going on. It would be just too much.
“I saw your first documentary,” Serena said. “It was excellent.”
“Thank you.”
“This new one you’re going to do—Kate said it’s a follow-up?” Jazz said.
“Yes. Some of the victims I featured in the first film will give updates on their lives, where they are now. We still won’t reveal their identities, but I think people will be interested in seeing what kind of impact their trauma has had on them and the people they love.
“But I also want to go into more depth, not only about the rescuers, but the traffickers themselves. How each got into their line of work, why they do what they do.”
“You know you won’t be able to identify us either. Right?” Jazz said.
“That’s not a problem. I just want to get into the mind-set of a rescuer. What makes him or her tick.”
“We can definitely help you with that. But we still need some answers.”
Aubrey shook her head. “I’ve answered your questions. I think it’s time I get to ask my own questions.”
“One more, and then we’ll move on.”
“All right.”
“Who is so interested in you that they would put thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment in your house to watch you?” Jazz raised her hand to stop Aubrey’s automatic response. “And don’t say you don’t know, because we know you do.”
“How do you know I do?”
“Because no one would go to this much expense and trouble unless they were afraid of being outed. Maybe you don’t know a name yet, but you know something.”
“How do I know I can trust you? I know nothing about you and your organization. You spirit me away from my house. You search it without my permission. You keep me here, grilling me for hours. How the hell am I to trust you when you’ve given me nothing other than more questions?”
Jazz and Serena exchanged a look, and they both nodded simultaneously.
“Fair enough,” Serena said. “What do you want to know?”
“Who are you people?”
“We’ll tell you what we can. If our boss feels like we can share more, we will.”
“That’s a start.”
“We’re an off-the-books organization that gets involved in a variety of international and domestic incidents. We often prevent bad things from happening.”
“For instance?”
“Terrorism, assassinations, wars.”
“Human trafficking?”
“Yes. That too.”
“Where do you get your funding?”
“That’s not something you need to know.”
Serena was right, but it had been worth a shot.
“Where are you taking me?”
“We’re going to our headquarters. Our boss trusts you enough to have you stay there. We think you’re in danger. Our plan is to protect you and help you. Will you let us?”
There didn’t seem to be much choice in the matter. Not only was she about forty thousand feet up in the air, she had nowhere else to turn. Telling her uncle what she’d found was now out of the question. Putting him in danger was the last thing she wanted.
Bottom line was she trusted Kate Walker. Kate Walker trusted these people. And despite their heavy-handed questioning, she was beginning to trust both Serena and Jazz.
“All right. I can do that.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lake Tahoe, California
“My sources are telling me that she still plans to make the film.”
Dread made his heart drop like lead. Even though he was alone, he unconsciously shook his head. “That’s not true. Your sources are mistaken.”
“Oh?”
The sound of that one word was so arrogant he wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and strangle the caller.
His mind scrambled for an answer that would satisfy. “Medford’s death destroyed her chances of getting it made. She doesn’t have enough capital on her own. And there’s no one else in the industry who will back her. The film will never get made.”
“My sources have told me she’s found someone outside the industry.”
“Who? I haven’t heard of such a thing.”
“I don’t believe it’s my job to give you information.”
“Perhaps not, but as we’re on the same side, why wouldn’t you?”
“Are we on the same side?”
He closed his eyes. No. They weren’t on the same side. Hadn’t