Rue: Web of Deceit - Part 42

Criminal Activity

Making their way to the docks, Rue and Blue prepare to infiltrate the boat party hosted by the head of the City's biggest child trafficking ring.

The yacht the duo find in the port is the kind of gaudy monstrosity they'd expect to see in some music video or off Miami beach rather than clogging up the waterways around Bathala. Blue parks the van in an inconspicuous location and looks over at the boat, quickly filling with both guests and staff from the shoreline, "I can't imagine they're all in on this," Blue says darkly, keeping his breathing steady as they watch the comings and goings, "What do you think?"     “Well, if not everyone is in on it, there must be a private area where they would’ve brought the kids,” Rue replies pensively, “I could try to find it if we can get a little closer… I could also try to listen to any of the conversations, see if we can find someone to nicely ask about who else at the party is involved.”   "Yeah, sounds good," Alec says as he opens the door and starts to get out of the van, "Come on, we'll sneak a bit closer."   Rue slips out, following Blue closer towards the yacht. The guests boarding the yacht are dressed in ridiculously expensive garments with branded accessories. A display of grotesque wealth that makes Rue cringe. The staff have been made to wear a uniform consisting of black trousers and crisp white shirts, long hair meticulously brushed into tight ponytails. As they inch closer, they try to filter through the sounds of overly eager partygoers, listening out for any conversations that might be relevant and looking through the yacht in search for a space where they could have held the children.   The boat is a veritable buffet of potentially useful information and Rue has difficulty trying to sort through all the voices and movement. Their eyes tell them immediately that the party is only really taking place on the top floor, with staff moving to and fro from the catering area, leaving the living quarters and storage areas of the boat almost entirely unused, any of which could be the staging ground for their hideous business. Their ears hear endless voices spouting mostly uninteresting pleasantries, but one name, whispered gently down a phoneline catches their attention, "Yes, Mr Hightower, the guests are arriving right now. No, the delivery hasn't arrived yet. Of course, we'll look into it..."   Then, before they get a chance to relay their information to the Detective, their hyper-sensitive nose tells them something that makes their stomach churn. That familiar scent of cheap cologne and cigar smoke that has become all too familiar. They turn their head to look down the dock and see Aloysius Creel climbing out of his dark green sedan.   ''Oh shit,'' Rue gasps, instinctively ducking further behind their cover, their heart racing, ''What the fuck is he doing here?'' They watch as Creel buttons his suit jacket, brushing a speck of dust off his sleeve before he steps forward and towards the yacht, boarding along with the other guests. They can hear his raspy voice as he shakes hands with a few people, greeting them with friendly familiarity. They know that Blue is relying on their senses to get them the intel they need, but the whispered phone call almost feels like a distant memory now that the Spider has joined the party, and it takes effort for Rue not to flee from the scene.   "You okay, Rue?" Alec whispers, the sudden sound so close to them snapping them out of their head for a moment, "What do you see?"   Rue flinches away from him, swallowing thickly. ''Creel's here...'' They hiss, pointing in the direction of the yacht, ''He just boarded - he cannot see me here with you. What if he recognises me somehow?''   "It's okay, Rue," Alec says, affecting his usual calming tone and keeping a respectful distance upon noticing them beginning to panic, "You don't have to go in there. I'll take care of it. Why don't you just keep an eye on the place and text me if you see trouble?"   ''I...'' They start, nervously licking their lips before they nod in agreement, ''Yeah... Yeah, okay. I can do that...'' They take a deep breath, calming their nerves enough to relay what they'd overheard, ''There's someone called Mr. Hightower who seems to be involved in all of this,'' They start, ''I think I heard the Dingo talking about him before, but someone on board just ended a call with him saying they'd look into the delay on the 'delivery'...''   "Hightower..." Blue says, thinking for a moment before deciding to pocket the information. He stands up, his form quickly reconfiguring itself into a decent likeness of the thug he'd traumatised earlier, "Alright. I'll be back soon. Keep your head down and try to stay calm. You've got my number in case of trouble."   Rue nods affirmatively, muttering a ''Be careful...'' as Blue walks away. They continue to keep their senses sharp, anxiously observing and listening in to ensure the hero is not left without backup.   The Detective quickly slinks along the pier, ducking between buildings and nearby vehicles before arriving near the welcome ramp and making himself known. "Mickey, what the fuck took you so long?" Comes the hushed voice of the man who Rue had seen on the phone, "Boss is gonna be pissed if he sees you using this entrance. Have you got the delivery?"   "Sorry," Alec says, imitating the thug's voice as best he's able, "The guys never showed up and I couldn't hang around any longer."   "Shit!" The man exclaims, still trying to keep his voice down as he begins to panic, "Mister Hightower is gonna flip his lid. Alright, alright just... get downstairs and see if they need help with the current stock. I'll... give Hightower a call."   Alec turns up the ramp and follows some of the staff inside, having to squeeze past the rapidly growing crowd of guests. Though his sense of smell isn't as sharp as Rue's, the hero can't help but look up as the strong scent of cigar smoke assaults his nostrils, followed by a raspy chuckle that makes his skin crawl. He ends up locking eyes with none other than Creel, cigar in hand, smirk plastered on his face which briefly contorts into a puzzled expression as Alec passes him. The detective puts on an air of nonchalance, hoping that The Spider has not interacted with this particular lowlife before. The moment passes rapidly, with Creel getting pulled back into the conversation with nearby guests as Alec continues on down the stairs below deck, refocusing on his mission.   Away from the bright lights and party atmosphere up top, the living area of the yacht feels dank and oppressive. With little in the way of direction, Alec keeps his eyes open for any signs of Hightower's illicit dealings, and it doesn't take long for the Detective to find what he's looking for.   "Mickey, that you?" Another voice catches his attention, and he wheels around, spotting the somewhat familiar face of Andre Rutabega, a small-time crook that Alec has the displeasure of meeting during his days as a patrol cop, "You got the merchandise?"   "Afraid not, Andre," Alec says, shrugging dismissively, "There was a problem with procurement. Looks like we're gonna have to make do with what we've got."   "Damn," Andre mutters, "Well, we're getting ready to depart, so you might as well come help out back here. We'll get the twins out here to keep our VIP's happy. They know what's good for them."   Andre leads Alec further into the bowels of the ship as the Detective's stomach churns, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists in an attempt to contain the growing rage. With a few numbers typed into a keypad, 2410 he notes, the final door opens, and Alec finally sees the VIP room. The black tiling and golden metal of the room gives the place an air of dark sophistication that Alec misses as he spots one figure he knows, then another and more.   The CFO of Manchen Robotics, a partner from Webber and Webb solicitors, Director of the local hospital, a prestigious producer from the Sunkissed Films Company and even Stanley Kragg, the Chief of Police and Alec's own boss. The Detective struggles to fathom the reach of a group like this, a good representation of Bathala's most influential men interposed between a collection of dour-looking kids, ranging from their middle teens and downwards. A cold chill works its way down Alec's spine as he follows Andre through the room.   As they approach the back of the room, Alec notices a member of staff carrying what appears to be a pile of clean linen sheets, heading towards a door he hadn’t spotted before. The door is briefly opened to allow the staff member to enter, and whilst he is relieved to see that the space is currently unoccupied, it doesn’t take a genius to know what the room is for.   There is a subtle whirring beneath their feet as the yacht’s engine springs to life and its anchors are lifted, the crew above deck working swiftly to release the moorings whilst the party upstairs springs to life. A minute later, a light comes on across the room, and all heads turn to look at the small stage that has been set up. There is a man in the spotlight, standing proudly in front of the mic wearing a pale blue suit with a dark blue tie and matching belt and loafers. His brown, wavy hair has been slicked back, his icy blue eyes glistening almost as much in the light as his pearly white teeth. A sliver of a tattoo peeks out of his jacket sleeve - the tail of a blue dragon curled around his wrist as he brings his hand up towards the microphone.   “Good evening,” he starts, his voice a smooth baritone, “I’d like to take a moment to welcome you all. On behalf of Mr Hightower, we’d like to thank you all for your continued support. We have a fine selection available for your entertainment tonight, so please have a look around - and, as always, if any of the merchandise really takes your fancy, Mr Hightower is always happy to negotiate rates.”   "Mickey, you with me?" Andre says, snapping his fingers in Alec's face as he stares at the man on stage.   "That's..." he says, one finger pointed at the man making his way off the stage and shaking hands with Randy Maxim, the solicitor.   "Yeah, I think he goes by Tundrake or something? He and Mr Hightower have some sort of arrangement," Andre remarks like it's the most normal thing in the world.   Tundrake is a name that Blue knows well, though. A newer character on the superhero scene, the two had worked together on a number of high-profile rescues and Alec had even given him advice on how to balance the hero life with his day-job, not that he was too good at that part himself. He'd even considered inviting him into the Vigil. The feeling of utter betrayal made the hero feel sick to his stomach, his knuckles turning white as every muscle in his body was suddenly tense.   "Mickey, you okay?"