Of All The Ginny Joints In All The Towns....

Posted on Sun Oct 30th, 2022 @ 3:12am by Kinmont Armstrong & Drake Loxley

Mission: Home Sweet Wonderful Home
Location: Three Hills - Cloudwater Port - Drake's Estate
Timeline: November 16th Early Morning

Around the two, the comfortable confines of Drake's personal study showed off photographs of some impressive artefacts, a few family portraits and a decent amount of expensive leather and dark hardwood. Light from outside filtered perfectly through a window blind that obscured interior detail while allowing sunshine to permeate.

"Look," Drake said as he stood in the middle of the wide room and strummed his fingers across the long taut strings of Kindra's expensive harp. "Trust me on this one, you picked the wrong Companion to trade." He looked to Ms Angel and frowned. "My brother definitely won't be bought, and whoever you've got on the line, he's presumably nefarious rather than super possessive?"

After all, as they both knew, Companions could be bought far easier for a well-struck deal or a vast amount of wealth, with of course the right pretty lie and finessed grift if required. It wasn't something Drake himself had ever considered, his own romantic life generally operating outside of the pay-up-front for sexy fun time sort of situations. There was money involved, fine wine, excellent room service and the like, but nothing resembling a formal contract. Those things he saved for business, not personal pleasure.

Ginny sat back in the plush leather chair, legs crossed, and just barely managed to keep her irritation in check. "Do not insult me with ridiculous accusations. After everything I've done for my people, do you really think I would kidnap a Companion to sell her? This is a family matter between the Companion and her brother. Kindra Graham skipped out on an arranged marriage – a family obligation. I have simply detained the Companion until her brother collects her."

With a lazy shrug, Drake offered up a concillatory smile. "Desperate times," he half-suggested in jest. "But I never said 'kidnap', I said 'trade'." Words were important. "So," Drake continued with zero concern for any annoyance that Ginny may be feeling or faking. "You and Ms Graham's brother are operating without Guild involvement for ease of financial repatriation, I presume then? Kinda a fine line between 'detention' and 'hostage-taking' since neither of you are actually officially employed by said Companion Guild." Semantics, and they both knew it, but Drake wasn't the type to apologise in this sort of situation. "Either way though, you might want to reconsider. There's a big difference between freeing slaves and holding free folk prisoner while hawking all their possessions."

Ginny waved a hand dismissively. "The Guild expects Companions to uphold Guild standards and values. Ms. Graham has not accepted any clients since boarding that disreputable Firefly, and even the bait contract with my alias specified limited service. It's not unheard of for a Companion to become besotted by a man with a big heart and an even bigger," she lifted an eyebrow suggestively, "sense of humor. Assuming Buccleuch is telling the truth, the Guild would support him." Ginny recalled what Kindra had said about James' intentions. "And yet..."

She sipped the coffee Drake poured for her when she arrived, and wished she had not agreed to leave her two bodyguards on the other side of his office door. Ginny had been a Companion herself, once. And now in addition to running a brothel, she bought the contracts of indentured young people from slavers and gave them the opportunity to work off their debt and gain their freedom. It was a point of pride that prostitution was only one of the available options, though certainly the most lucrative. The credits Buccleuch had offered would go a long way toward realizing Ginny's dream of a school for her people and their children. In fact, the deal had been almost too good to be true. Damn.

"His name is James Buccleuch, and he really is the Companion's stepbrother. I have some history with the man. At the beginning of the war, he was a regular client, though eventually I stopped accepting his contract invitations." Ginny shuddered, recalling Jim's tastes, then took another sip of her coffee. "Buccleuch arranged the ruse, adding me to the registry as a client. Pawning the Companion's possessions was one of the steps in his plan. But it seems the harp is what tipped you off, Mr. Loxley." She set down the coffee, uncrossed her legs, and leaned toward Drake. "You mentioned your brother. What exactly is his interest and yours in Kindra Graham?"

"Yeah, I checked his files too," noted Drake, his own access level for a wide-range of contacts nicely boosted by his business endeavours. "Don't know him personally like you though," he admitted, freely and without obvious emotion. He raised an eyebrow at Ginny's admission that she'd ended client contact with him though. "Oh, really? Sick and twisted little bastard?" Drake asked, seeking information the easy way - direct from the source. His hand rested on the beautiful, vast stringed instrument that took up the majority of his study's free space and he wondered how much he could get for it before Alden returned.

Ginny's jaw tightened, and she gave a single nod. "Let's just say, I wouldn't agree to any amount he might offer in exchange for even five minutes with one of my people." She gestured to the harp, which had a sweet tone even when strummed by Drake's inexpert fingers. "A desire to hear Kindra play her harp was part of the fake client profile. How did you know it was hers?"

"This bloody thing," Drake said, stepping back from the harp now to lean against his desk. "Was kinda hard to miss when Ms Graham headed off to her appointment from the battered ancient old Firefly my brother calls home. Don't usually see that kinda value of item in those downtrodden circumstances. Definitely stood out." Of course, he'd used Fortune's Echo for months as a means of transporting high cost 'secondhand' items, but nothing as obvious or vast as this one though.

"My brother's interest," the younger Loxley answered Ginny's second question. "Is carnal. Mine? Is in not pissing off my big bro right now. Too many things I'd rather he didn't go around shouting about or looking deeper into. Sure you, as a fellow entrepreneur, understand? Shall we say Alden is... less discreet than I am when he gets emotional. And generally more physical."

"So your interest is personal, and your brother with the prodigious sense of humor is a physical threat." Ginny sighed and came to a decision. "I think we can come to an agreeable arrangement, with the stipulation that my people - my family - are not threatened. You may not avail yourself of the services my business offers, but many of your employees do, so you must be aware the brothel is not only a place of business, but home to my people and their children. The safety of those in my care is my primary concern."

Drake could have corrected Ginny there - was Alden really a physical threat as he'd clearly implied? No. But it served the younger Loxley's purpose to allow her to think that for the time being. Drake could handle being the good guy in this situation. He regarded Ms Angel and nodded as she spoke. "I have no interest in harming any of you," Drake politely pointed out. "I'm a businessman, an entepreneur... not a crime lord. Of course I understand that we both need to protect our homes from external danger."

"Buccleuch is due to collect her in," Ginny checked the time on her cortex, "three hours. I propose to bring the Companion to you. Then I will send Buccleuch a wave telling him you have the Companion, and he must negotiate with you. She will be your responsibility, to trade - or not."

"Three hours is plenty of time," Drake agreed with a nod. "Let's get Ms Graham outta there while it's only the two of us we have to worry about. Be better if I come to you though," he calmly challenged. "I'll just borrow a different vehicle and bring a trusted friend." Arlo would do nicely in that regard. "But yes, the deal is acceptable. Also," he added graciously. "I'll owe you one."

As Ginny lifted her cortex, it vibrated with an incoming call from Clarice. Without preamble and loud enough for Drake to hear, the voice on the other end said, "He came early, Ms Ginny. He took her." The tremble in the usually unflappable woman's voice conveyed more than words. "After seein' how he is… I think she was speakin' truth 'bout what he means to do."

Drake swore in Chinese as he heard the words - 'he took her' - which really needed no more explanation or colour added to them to tell him everything he needed to know. They were fucked.

"What vehicle did he use?" Drake asked, voice level and utterly calm. They were on Three Hills, he had no doubt right now that his local connections were better than this Buccleuch's. "I'll get a trace on it."

Keepin' her voice calm, Ginny asked, "Did anyone get hurt?"

"None of our people were hurt, ma'am." Answering Drake's question, Clarice said, "It was a skiff, one of them fancy six-seater hovercrafts, the kind with armored turbofans for propulsion."

"Thanks," noted Drake, sharply, then began tapping out a quick text message to Arlo via his cortex. Avoiding a voice call allowed him to communicatively multitask and Drake didn't want to miss the rest of Ginny's ongoing conversation. They'd back-trace the skiff, find the local ally and work forwards from there, providing a second option to Ginny's predictable next move. Hostage negotiation.

Ginny frowned, surveying the collection of photos on the wall. James Buccleuch had manipulated and used her. Again. This was her town, she was gonna help get that young woman back. "I can call Buccleuch. Negotiate. Let him know there's folks here as want her back, and are willing to do whatever it takes."

"If he hasn't instantly killed her," Drake did his workings-out openly. "Then he likely wants to use her." It wasn't too hard to make an assumption on that score. "Something Ms Graham owns? Something she knows? Or someone?" He didn't reveal all his gathered information, but the underground network had some interesting things to say about Mr Graham. If Drake had to place a bet it would be on dear old dad being a major factor in this whole mess, one way or another. But then, the way to catch (or rescue) a fish was often to play 'summon bigger fish'.

"Sure," Drake agreed. "Negotiate." He grinned. "Maybe if the first pitch fails, tell him exactly who wants her back..."

Ginny ended the call with Clarice. "Ms. Graham did tell me that handing her over to her brother was a death sentence. I didn't believe her." She'd thought it such an obvious lie at the time. But, maybe she could help make it right. Ginny put through a wave to Buccleuch, and to her surprise, he picked up right away.

From Drake, there was only a quiet nod and a deeper line of internal thought as he mentally rallied his own resources while listening to the voice as Kindra's kidnapper answered. The first two words intrigued him greatly, but merely elicited a silent smirk for now.

"Genevieve Stanford. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" The voice on the other end was smooth as always, demonstrating that James Buccleuch could be charming when he wished.

Ginny ignored the implicit threat the revelation of her real name conveyed. "Mr. Buccleuch, a third party has approached me, and asked that I negotiate the release of Kindra Graham. He has her harp."

"Excellent," said James' voice in a satisfied tone. "Though I must admit I expected Kinmont Armstrong to contact me directly. Tell Armstrong to come to the coordinates I send you, alone and unarmed, and I will release his daughter."

Ginny met Drake's gaze with raised eyebrows and silently mouthed, Kinmont Armstrong?

The smile on the younger Loxley's face was bright and childlike in its happiness. Keeping his own name out of things was an unexpected bonus at this point, and while he could of course support his elder brother, it was always more fun to do so from the sidelines. Armstrong could have the front and centre part of this battle for sure, though no doubt Alden would insist on standing in the crosshairs alongside Kindra's dad. Idiot.

"Tell him we'll trade," Drake said, coolly, the second after he'd muted Ginny's cortex. "Armstrong for Graham. But don't name me." He stepped back, giving her the universal okay gesture with the fingers and thumb of his right hand, and nodded encouragingly.

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