exist. The story was, they took in the homeless, destitute, and especially orphaned children, none of whom were ever seen or heard from again. They were "farmed" out to sweat shops, whore houses, and the ever-ravenous adult film industry. Even with the ghost of a shadow of a trail that led from Greg Passon to "The Farm's" doorstep, it'd still take a leap of faith to make the connection that made the lie all that much more believable. Max knew if he made the process too easy, even someone as stupid as Lucca could figure it out. So he made it nearly impossible to be able to ferret out the link. But an intelligent operative would be able to discern and work through the maze.
Plus, if one looked closely—and Max was sure Lucca was going to—there was the slightest hint Mr Greg Passon was indeed Mr Greg Peterson, the CEO of one of the largest charitable organizations that funded the orphanages and foster care homes in and around the Chicago area. The name Passon came up in any number of searches, from New York care facilities to Los Angeles encouragement centers to Miami women's shelters. Each location looked legit on the outside, and actually they were, except they had become money laundering and occasional clearing houses for illegals. But Hunter and Jasper laid out a phantom trail that hinted each location also specialized in its own brand of slave trade. If indeed such a man as Greg Passon existed, there'd always be "product" for the human trafficking route Max was dangling in front of Lucca.
And all Max had to leak was Greg Passon's name then sit back and watch Lucca's people trip all over themselves trying to learn all they could about the fictitious, depraved man. It was the final piece of the puzzle Max put in place to assure Lucca and Jackson would take the bait—hook, line and sinker.
All the video equipment, monitors, and microphones were in place. The fake wall had been positioned to hide one of the trucks—the truck containing the dummies infused with special prizes on board—all prior to Lucca's spies arriving. Hunter was an amazingly talented man. Max knew he had been the correct choice for the job.
Step four—the Chicago contact
It was time to have Lucca, Jackson, and the Red Dragon gang woven into the plan.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Hey, Lucca. There's a guy on the phone for you. Said he's the Japanese guy. Are you ready to talk to him?"
Shit. That was fast. There had never been a doubt in his mind Max Tyler had pull beyond the norm but the speed with which the man could make things happen was nothing short of miraculous. Fuck! He wasn't ready. How could he be? He didn't even expect to hear from the contact himself. What if the phone call was a trap? Tyler was, after all, the man who set this up. Why hadn't Tyler told him the contact was going to happen this soon? Why had he not even heard from Max about the contact actually calling him directly? Something wasn't right. What if this was a way to expose him, have him arrested, have him killed ?
But that didn't make any sense. He had Asher Madden. Tyler wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize the man's life, was he?
Lucca rubbed his aching temples, moving his hair back. He'd have to cut this bulky pelt again soon. The thickness of it tended to irritate the hell out of him when it was allowed to grow to this length. He just hadn't had time lately. He adjusted his six foot, one hundred and eighty pound frame in the uncomfortable chair to see if he could head off the coming migraine. He'd need all his faculties sharp and ready when he talked to the contact. If he did this right… If this route opened up, he'd be set for life.
They were going to have to kill Max Tyler, and they now had all of those details worked out, but Tyler was going to know that too.
Yes, Tyler had to know this so-called reason they had come up with in order to delay the release of Madden was a paper dragon, a grand illusion, simply there to force Tyler to deal with them. He'd know they
Plus, if one looked closely—and Max was sure Lucca was going to—there was the slightest hint Mr Greg Passon was indeed Mr Greg Peterson, the CEO of one of the largest charitable organizations that funded the orphanages and foster care homes in and around the Chicago area. The name Passon came up in any number of searches, from New York care facilities to Los Angeles encouragement centers to Miami women's shelters. Each location looked legit on the outside, and actually they were, except they had become money laundering and occasional clearing houses for illegals. But Hunter and Jasper laid out a phantom trail that hinted each location also specialized in its own brand of slave trade. If indeed such a man as Greg Passon existed, there'd always be "product" for the human trafficking route Max was dangling in front of Lucca.
And all Max had to leak was Greg Passon's name then sit back and watch Lucca's people trip all over themselves trying to learn all they could about the fictitious, depraved man. It was the final piece of the puzzle Max put in place to assure Lucca and Jackson would take the bait—hook, line and sinker.
All the video equipment, monitors, and microphones were in place. The fake wall had been positioned to hide one of the trucks—the truck containing the dummies infused with special prizes on board—all prior to Lucca's spies arriving. Hunter was an amazingly talented man. Max knew he had been the correct choice for the job.
Step four—the Chicago contact
It was time to have Lucca, Jackson, and the Red Dragon gang woven into the plan.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Hey, Lucca. There's a guy on the phone for you. Said he's the Japanese guy. Are you ready to talk to him?"
Shit. That was fast. There had never been a doubt in his mind Max Tyler had pull beyond the norm but the speed with which the man could make things happen was nothing short of miraculous. Fuck! He wasn't ready. How could he be? He didn't even expect to hear from the contact himself. What if the phone call was a trap? Tyler was, after all, the man who set this up. Why hadn't Tyler told him the contact was going to happen this soon? Why had he not even heard from Max about the contact actually calling him directly? Something wasn't right. What if this was a way to expose him, have him arrested, have him killed ?
But that didn't make any sense. He had Asher Madden. Tyler wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize the man's life, was he?
Lucca rubbed his aching temples, moving his hair back. He'd have to cut this bulky pelt again soon. The thickness of it tended to irritate the hell out of him when it was allowed to grow to this length. He just hadn't had time lately. He adjusted his six foot, one hundred and eighty pound frame in the uncomfortable chair to see if he could head off the coming migraine. He'd need all his faculties sharp and ready when he talked to the contact. If he did this right… If this route opened up, he'd be set for life.
They were going to have to kill Max Tyler, and they now had all of those details worked out, but Tyler was going to know that too.
Yes, Tyler had to know this so-called reason they had come up with in order to delay the release of Madden was a paper dragon, a grand illusion, simply there to force Tyler to deal with them. He'd know they
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