Jaxon was first through the security and was surprised that the level of scrutiny for his travel papers was virtually nil. He was moving about the front lobby of the station within a few minutes.

Camille was through shortly after, an irritable glint in her eyes.

"Everything okay?" Jaxon asked.

"I'll be fine," she huffed. "Just a few wandering hands by one of the security goons."

"Which one was it?" Jaxon asked, motioning toward the security fence.

"I'm fine. We have more important things to worry about," she said, looking around the vicinity. "Let's not stand around like tourists."

Camille led Jaxon further onto the concourse that surrounded the large casino floor below. As they waited for Oliver and Francisco, they overlooked the crowd of degenerate gamblers and card sharks in silence.

It was nearly twenty minutes later when Francisco and Oliver stepped up next to them and peered over the rail. "Which way to the hookers?" Oliver asked dryly.

Jaxon chuckled. "I think you'll find what you're looking for down those stairs and through the lower promenade."

"What was the holdup?" Camille asked, ignoring the bravado flowing freely between Jaxon and Oliver.

"Nothing that we weren't prepared for. After getting the third degree about our reason for visiting their pristine space station, Clay actually saved the day with his nave question: 'Is there a wide selection of women in the Hooker Shop?'," Oliver recounted.

"You didn't!" Camille asked.

Francisco's face turned red, but he didn't deny it.

"Honest to God. Those were his exact words," Oliver said, looking at Francisco admirably.

Camille rolled her eyes and smiled. "Clay, I can't believe you let Miles corrupt you so easily."

"Okay, boys. Time to get to it," Jaxon said. "And watch out for Madame Elina. She's a known pickpocket, and she's quite good at it."

Oliver nodded and headed for the stairs. Francisco trailed, terror beginning to fill his eyes.

"Madame Elina, huh?" Camille asked. "It sounds like you've been here a few times," she said, holding her nose up in general disdain.

Jaxon smiled gleefully. "Oh, I've been here before. But I have no idea if there's a Madame or a Messieurs or what have you. I just said that to keep Francisco on his toes."

Camille chuckled. "You are incorrigible," she said, sliding her arm into his. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way, my lady," Jaxon said as they made their way to the grand staircase that led to the center of the casino floor.

As they reached the lower landing, they approached a money cage and exchanged a few thousand credits for two large stacks of casino chips. He gave one stack to Camille and slipped his own stack into the breast pocket of his sport coat. As was typical with Jaxon's irregular visits to the local gambling hall on Taloo Station, he led Camille throughout the entire casino floor, surveying the various tables and exit paths. He also noted that each of the four exit doors was manned by two armed guards. On their second pass through the casino floor, he paused at the side of a half full table that was playing Calypso poker. "Shall we?" Jaxon motioned Camille toward the table.

Confidently, Camille stepped up to the table and took the seat at the far right. Jaxon sat down next to her and organized his stack of chips. Camille did the same and had her initial bet out before Jaxon completed his account. He looked at her, surprise on his face. She just smiled.

The attractive dealer swiped her hand across the felt in a half circle, then began dealing out cards. Each player received three cards, and the goal was to beat the dealer, but also to beat everyone else at the table.

Jaxon looked at his hand, and he had a pair of three's with a king kicker. He waited for action, and when it got to him, he called Camille's fifty credit bet.

There were three others at the table and they each folded. The dealer, who showed two of her three cards had a Jack and a nine face up. Any face card in the dealer's window indicated that she must call.

The dealer nodded at Camille, the initial better. Camille gleefully turned over a three card straight. Seven, eight, nine.

Jaxon turned over his hand and said, "You got me." He then looked at the dealer's cards as she turned over her blind card which happened to be a second Jack.

Swiftly, the dealer cleared Jaxon's cards and chips, reallocating them in front of Camille. She then matched the stack once again out of the dealer's tray before shuffling for a new hand.

Jaxon eyed Camille questioningly.

"What? Beginner's luck." She giggled.

After a few dozen hands, and more tragic losses than great victories, Jaxon was almost through his initial stack. Camille, on the other hand, had more than doubled what she initially sat down with and appeared to be enjoying every moment of it.

As much as Jaxon would've loved to continue living their playful cover, he figured it was time to start getting down to business. He looked around the casino to see if one of the pit bosses was near but didn't spot anyone. He then leaned over the table slightly and spoke to the dealer, admiring her crimson hair.

"We're here on kind of a second honeymoon, and were wondering if"-Jaxon paused again to look around for any prying ears-"we're wondering where we could get some chemical entertainment. We'd love some Whitetail, to be specific." Jaxon winked and leaned back in his chair.

The dealer, whose name tag said Felicity, didn't even pause from her card shuffling. "I'm sorry, sir, but this establishment does not condone that sort of activity."

Jaxon portrayed an image of disappointment as he exhaled in defeat. Then he noticed something. Felicity winked at him then began dealing out the next hand. After she had dealt the third card all around the table, Jaxon picked up his three cards and found that he had a seven of diamonds, a three of clubs, and a card that had a name and a five-digit prefix on it. The name was Ziggi, and the number was 50961.

Startled, Jaxon looked up at the dealer, and she winked at him again. He promptly folded and nudged Camille.

"Well, dear, I think we should give some other people a chance to win. Let's cash out."

Disappointment was clear on Camille's face as she folded her last hand and promptly scooped her poker chips off the table.

As they moved away from the casino floor, Camille spoke. "That was abrupt. Did you sense trouble?"

"Not exactly. After the dealer shot me down on asking about Whitetail, she dealt me a card that had a man's name and what I assume is his room number. It's 50961, and Ziggi appears to be the man to ask for. Let's cash in our chips then go see what we can find."

42.

The promenade was lined with numerous dive bars and strip clubs; a man stood out in front of each dingy establishment, urging the passing patrons into their clubs. Francisco stayed close to Oliver as they moved past the first half dozen bars.

"What, what are we looking for again?" he asked.

"Boss said to go talk to some prostitutes. Something about what he learned back on Beta Station," Oliver said.

Francisco remembered the mission briefing, but by the appearance of his pale skin, he wasn't exactly thrilled about their part of the plan. Oliver either didn't notice or chose to ignore the uneasiness that had overcome his partner.

The two continued their path through the promenade, ignoring all the pleas along the way. At the very end, they came to a pair of massive oak doors with a red neon sign above that read The Pleasure Gauntlet. "Looks like we're here," Oliver said.

"Do you think Jaxon actually meant for us to hire a prostitute?" Francisco asked.

"Why'd you think he gave us each three thousand credits? We can't just ask the Madame exactly where she buys drugs for her whores," Oliver said before stepping through the elaborate entrance.

The contrast in environments was drastic. The promenade was filled with glitz and glamour, and flashing lights were everywhere. Inside the brothel, things were much more restrained. The cold, steel floor present outside was replaced by a plush, mauve-colored carpet. The walls were lined with a wainscot of stained wood with decorative wallpaper above. There was a crystal chandelier at the center of the ceiling, providing ample yet subdued light. There were a series of velvet-covered armchairs, arranged in groups throughout the modest antechamber. At the far corner, there was a podium, similar to that of a matre d's station of harbor, situated in front of a wide, curtained doorway. There were several men in the vestibule, sitting, waiting in the various chairs, but the Madame was nowhere in sight.

"Does this mean that we should come back later?" Francisco asked, obviously uncomfortable in the environment.

"No, this means that we wait. I'm sure the lovely ladies will parade themselves around any minute."

Oliver took a seat where he could see the entire room's layout. Francisco took the adjacent seat. They sat in silence, and as the time passed, Francisco appeared to relax. Then, as Oliver had predicted, a number of sensually dressed women paraded into the room. They were followed by a heavyset woman wearing more makeup than a circus clown.

"You think that's Madame Elina?" Francisco asked.

Oliver ignored Francisco's question, as he was previewing the women for hire.

"What's that?" Oliver asked, forcing his eyes back to Francisco.

"Is that Madame Elina?" Francisco repeated.

"Might be. Why don't you go find out? I'm going to go over and talk to those lovely ladies," Oliver said as he moved toward the gathered prostitutes.

Francisco waited several moments before making a move, cursing his own lack of confidence. When he'd joined the GSA, he'd never had any intention of becoming a field agent, opting for the scientific aspect of the job instead. That would've allowed him to maintain a much lower profile and stay in the shadows, which he preferred. Initially, when the director approached him about this particular mission, Francisco thought it would be a great opportunity to move up into the advanced departments he'd envisioned. Now, as he sat watching Oliver effortlessly converse with three attractive women, he began to wonder if he'd made the right decision.

Realizing that unless he got a move on, he'd suffer ridicule for his inaction, Francisco reluctantly stood and headed for the Madame.

Oliver approached the three harlots that had gathered near a previously unnoticed fireplace. Having visited similar establishments many times in his ignominious carrier, he had no reservations about approaching the women.

"Hi there. Could either of you direct me to the nearest monastery? I seem to have wandered off the righteous path," Oliver said, grinning widely.

Two of the women giggled uncontrollably, while the third wasn't as amused by Oliver's dry humor. She smiled nonetheless.

"Just how far have you strayed, mister?" a salacious blonde asked. The other two women, both brunettes, stood silently next to the stone hearth.

"Just far enough that I fully realize that I've done some very, very bad things," Oliver said. Then he threw out an exaggerated wink and moved closer to the blonde.

"Well, I'm not sure about redemption, but if you'd like to further your adulterous path, I'd love to show you the way," said the woman. "My name is Gigi. And you are?"

"Ryan," Oliver said, stating his agreed upon cover name prior to leaving the Buddha. "Very pleased to meet you."

"Tell me, Ryan," Gigi said as she slipped her arm into his. "What would you like me to do for you?"

Oliver smiled and nodded to the remaining two women as Gigi led him to a pair of chairs nestled out of the way. "I don't have anything in particular in mind. Do you have a specialty?"

"I have lots of specialties, darling, but each of them are valued differently. How much would you like to spend? I can tell you what's on the menu."

"Well, I've got a pocket full of credits, so the sky's the limit. To tell the truth, I've been out of touch for so long, I'd love to have an open menu, and if you have any ... additional recreation, I might be obliged to partake in that as well."

Gigi's eyes brightened. "Well, you've come to the right place. Let's get a deposit in place with Madame Elina then we'll move into the back for a little privacy."

Francisco nervously stepped up to the podium where the Madame stood. She looked up with her sky blue eyeshadow and Merlot-colored lips and smiled. "Hi there, sugar. You see something you like?" she asked.

Francisco could feel beads of sweat began to build at his temples. He scanned through his mind, trying to pick out the words that he'd just rehearsed moments before. Unfortunately, he stood there, tongue-tied and completely embarrassed at his inability to function properly in the field. Visions of fight or flight passed through his mind, and as he was about to take the second option, he felt a firm slap on his back.

"Well, Drake, you almost beat me to the punch," Oliver said as he stepped up to the podium with Gigi on his arm.

"I, uh, yeah," is all that Francisco could get out.

"Well, I'm here now. I think I have what we we're looking for." He nodded his head toward Gigi. "You're okay with a threesome, right?" he asked her.

Gigi's nearly perfect smile wavered slightly, but returned with gusto. "Yeah, sure," she said excitedly. "If Madame Elina is okay with it."

Before the Madame could respond, Oliver pulled out two thousand credits and dropped them on the podium. Everyone's eyes watched as the universal currency settled on the mahogany surface. Greedily, the Madame scooped up the credits and stuffed them into her brassiere then stepped to the side. "You three have a good time now, you hear?"

Gigi led the boys back into a dimly lit corridor, which was lined with several doors on each side. As they moved along, moans and groans could be heard. Toward the end of the hallway, Gigi turned to the left and a new corridor appeared, along with a new series of doors. About halfway down on the right, Gigi stopped and opened the door. She gestured for the two men to enter. Francisco entered first, followed by Oliver. Gigi stepped in and closed the door, startling Francisco.

"What do you two boys have in mind?" Gigi asked as she began to untie her sheer robe. Before either Oliver or Francisco could protest, she dipped her shoulders slightly and the robe dropped to the floor, revealing her naked body. "Do you want to go individually? Or would you rather all three of us go at it at the same time?"

Oliver glanced at Francisco and resisted laughing out loud at the stark white appearance on his face. "If you don't mind, it's been a long trip, and I'm not sure about Drake here, but I'd like a little something to ease my mind, if you know what I mean."

"Absolutely," Gigi said, moving to the bureau on the far wall. She slid open the drawer and withdrew a slim black box with some indistinguishable insignia etched on the cover. "What's your pleasure?" she asked.

Oliver stepped up to Gigi and noticed the hieroglyphs instantly. He recognized them from the research files back on the Buddha, being related to the Guzman family. He knew they were in the right place. "I'm not sure. Like I said, it's been a while. I've heard about this new drug, but I can't remember what it was. Something like white ... hip? White ... nose?"

"Ah, yes. I think you mean Whitetail. Unfortunately, you'll find none of that here, at least not today. I have some of these blue pills, if you need extra support, or if you really want to get crazy, I have some Ex, or-"

"No Whitetail?" Oliver asked, portraying disappointment. "A friend of mine said that if I'm ever in the outer ring, I've really got to try that, and I've had my heart set on it. Any chance you could-"

"Like I said, not today," Gigi said sternly then returned the black box to her bureau. When she turned back around, her smile reappeared and she moved to where they were standing.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, I think we should all get down to business," Gigi said as she slipped her hand into Oliver's trousers while she kissed him to keep him from protesting.

Francisco stood, his mouth agape. "I, uh, I'm not feeling very well," he said, backing toward the door. "Hey, Mi ... I mean, Ryan, I'm going to go wait out front."

Oliver only grunted.

Francisco closed the door behind him as he stood alone in the dimly lit hallway. Overwhelmed by the situation, he tried to recall the direction they came in, but he couldn't remember a thing. He looked to his left and then to his right, but both routes looked identical. He had a fifty-fifty shot of making the right decision and he turned to the right. At the end of the corridor, he came to a T. To the left was another long hallway. To the right, he found an opening that was draped with a velvet curtain. He remembered first coming back, and was almost positive that he passed a similar curtain, but could've sworn that they took more turns along the way. He stepped up, parted the curtains and walked through.

Once through the passageway, he stood in a small vestibule that had a single armchair with a broken leg, causing it to teeter to the left. Next to the chair was a door unlike the others in the establishment. All of the others featured pink diamonds at the center of charcoal-colored ovals. This door was titanium and looked more like an exit door than anything else.

"Ah, a backdoor," Francisco mumbled before pushing through.

On the other side of the doorway, Francisco froze. He stood in a long, narrow room that was barely illuminated. From what he could see, there were a dozen or so steel wired cages along each side of the room. In each of the cages, scared, bloodshot eyes stared back. He felt along the wall for a switch and flicked it on. Bright light flooded the room and the horror set in. Each of the pairs of eyes belonged to a different girl. From what he could see, the girls' ages varied from young teens to grown adults. Each of the women were completely naked and some were malnourished. Their wrists were bound behind their backs, and they all wore ball gags at their mouths.

Petrified at the sight, his first thought was to free them and escape the facility. As he rushed forward and began opening the first cage, his analytical mind stopped him. He knew that freeing the girls now would certainly spell doom for their mission, and the livelihood of his entire team. He paused for a moment, trying to decide what he should do. He looked down at the woman in the cage. She was a teen, probably fifteen or sixteen, her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes looked up at him, filled with fright. Her pale cheeks were stained with dried tears and grime.