I cringe at his blatantly sexist language. “Is ‘MC bitch’ the proper terminology, Bruno?”
“Proper or not, that’s what they are,” he shrugs. “And they’re making more trouble than they’re worth for these guys.”
“What kind of trouble?” I ask Mitchell.
“Bane’s old lady, Kelly Rodgers, has helped the girls of the Devil’s Playpen start their own porn production company. Tiberi’s girl, Kassie Bennett, runs a crowd funding site,” Mitchell tells me.
“So they started their own businesses. Good for them,” I reply. “How does that make trouble for the clubs?”
“We’ve been receiving tips about both of these endeavors, and then some,” Mitchell tells me. “Their operations may not be so squeaky clean after all. Bruno’s been going undercover at the Devil’s Playpen, following some tips about solicitation.”
“I’m sure that’s been a real struggle for you,” I grin at Bruno.
“I’m not complaining about the view,” he says. “And I’m getting to know some of the new girls. Something’s bound to give there. No way a strip club-based porn company is above bending a few rules.”
“Isn’t it entrapment to bait them into doing something wrong?” I ask.
“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Princess,” Bruno snarls, all the humor gone from his voice.
“Moving on,” Mitchell says smoothly, “Quinn, I’m assigning you as a second agent to this case to investigate from another angle. Your extensive computer science knowledge will be incredibly helpful when it comes to gathering intelligence about Ms. Bennett’s site.”
“Sounds like something that’s very much in my wheel house,” I nod. “So, what do you need me to do? Hunt around to see if there’s any malware hiding in their emails? See if money is being siphoned off from their transactions? All I need is a desk and computer here in the office, a few cups of coffee, and—what? What is it?”
Bruno and Mitchell are exchanging glances across the room, silently conferring about how to proceed.
“The thing is, Collins,” Mitchell begins, “we don’t see this investigation happening purely online.”
“I don’t follow,” I reply.
“Bruno here has been having some real success working undercover on this thing,” Mitchell goes on, “so we’re going to have you do the same.”
My stomach twists into a painful knot as I realize my boss isn’t joking. For a moment all I can do is stare at him, my jaw hanging wide open.
“Did you not include that little detail when you went to fetch her?” Bruno asks.
“Nope. Forgot to mention that particular nugget of information,” I finally manage to say, my breath caught high in my chest. “Agent Mitchell, I have absolutely no undercover experience. My training is in cyber surveillance.”
“I know this isn’t what you normally do at the Bureau,” Mitchell begins.
“It’s completely outside of what I normally do!” I exclaim. “For the past two years, I’ve been sitting at a keyboard, putting my hacking skills to use. I’ve barely spoken to anyone outside of work, and even then not for very long. How do you expect me to go—?”
“Agent Collins,” Mitchell says sharply, “you are a Special Agent of the FBI. You will do what is asked of you in service of this organization. And right now you’re being asked to go undercover in order to gather vital intelligence about this potentially criminal group.”
“Yes. Of course, sir,” I mutter, hot red patches lighting up my cheeks.
“You’re going to infiltrate the clubs’ business through Kassie Bennett’s site, CrowdedNest,” Mitchell continues, ignoring my outburst. “She and Kelly Rodgers are the senior developers and co-owners of the site. Declan Tiberi provided the original start-up cash to get it off the ground. And lucky for us, CrowdedNest is hiring.”
“Hiring?” I echo, totally at a loss.
“You’re going to reach out to Ms. Bennett and Ms. Rodgers, under an alias of course, and ask be considered for a job at CrowdedNest,” Mitchell reveals. “You’re completely qualified for any job they could offer you, given your tech background. And you’re a young, attractive woman. They’ll be more inclined to hire you because of that.”
Disappointment tugs at the corners of my mouth. So when Mitchell said I was perfect for this job, it had as much to do with looks—and tits—as it did my computer skills? I can’t help but be bummed out about that.
“You’ll start working for CrowdedNest and get access to all the records, correspondence, and data you could dream of,” Mitchell says. “You’ll remove as much intel as you can using an external drive and dig through it for suspicious activity. It’s a bit of a needle-in-the-haystack gambit, but we’re confident that something good will turn up. We suspect that the girls are funneling some of their money to the Wraiths and the Nine, especially seeing as Tiberi is a key investor. And if the finances of the site and the clubs are intertwined—”
“Then if one goes down, they all go down,” Bruno finishes with a grin. “We can demolish the whole goddamn lot of them.”
I let my eyes wander across the vast array of intel displayed on the walls. Each club boasts nearly a dozen members; hardened, ruthless men, most of whom are proud criminals. Each photo makes me sicker than the next. There’s only one blank space in the ranks of Dante’s Nine, one last member the FBI hasn’t identified yet. But the rest of their eyes stare out from their mug shots, cold and unfeeling. A surge of hatred rises like bile in my throat as I look them over.
“Penny for your thoughts, Agent?” Mitchell prompts.
“I just...have a bit of a bias against men like them,” I say softly. “Call it a grudge, call it a vendetta, I just call it reason. I despise organized crime, especially gangs. And we all know that’s what these clubs are, in the end. My little brother was shot in Philly. Got caught in the crossfire of some gang shootout. That’s the whole reason I decided to go into law enforcement.”
“And now you finally get to have a hand in taking these assholes down,” Mitchell says, laying a supportive hand on my shoulder.
“But I don’t know how I’m supposed to be in a room with one of these low-lives,” I tell him. “Without spitting in his face, that is.”