Sorcerer in DC Chapter 67: SDC 66

688.

689.

670.

I breathed out, finishing my latest set of one-arm pushups. The gains had started showing the mont I began my first cycle. Given my ridiculous ta-powers, I'd gone for the aggressive approach—a shot a day. I knew my body could take it, and I hadn't been wrong or disappointed by the results.

Stats:

STR: 110 14 AGI: 122 10 PER: 130 VIT: 140

END: 134 16 CP: 180 3

I hadn't seen gains like this… well, ever. And I was only two weeks in. It had taken that long to tie up loose ends, say a temporary goodbye to my school friends, and prepare myself for a jaunt to the border.

It took so research, but I figured out which part of the border Bane used to traffic his green juice. It was my best shot at finding another lieutenant. Coincidentally, it was also a major hub for all sorts of awfulness—human trafficking, drugs, and more than a few whispered human rights violations.

Laredo, Texas.

I hit the town just before the sun bled across the horizon, painting the dry plains of South Texas in orange and rust. Heat shimred off cracked asphalt as my ancient Ford pickup rumbled into the border city.

Churches, chain stores, and quaint little businesses were scattered throughout. On the surface, it looked innocent enough. But peel back the layers—look closer at the ports and the forgotten edges of town—and the truth revealed itself.

Laredo was propped up by drug money and well-aning industrialists making a killing on both sides of the trade business. I drove through one of the more notorious parts of town, and they flagged almost imdiately—so kids outside a local food joint.

They spoke Spanish, which I was decent at, and were careful not to ntion directly. But I knew spotters when I saw them. I used to be one, back when I was desperate to learn.

It was also hard to miss the conspicuous truck making a delivery to a small shop around the corner. The driver had quite the bulge in the back of his pants.

I found the nearest motel, rented a room, and picked a diner with a good view of the street. Sowhere I could watch and listen. I maintained a perpetual Cloak on the roof and switched positions whenever my ears caught sothing interesting.

Most leads went nowhere—low-level dealers and thieves desperate to curry favor with soone higher up the chain. It wasn't until the end of the second day that I caught sothing I couldn't ignore.

A conversation between an older woman in a form-fitting office dress and a young man who worked down at the docks. I'd co in for lunch when I heard them.

"Co on, Ernesto, you bring the girls over. Don't tell you're too proud to sample them."

"I don't pay for pussy," Ernesto replied, knocking back a finger of sothing strong. "That's what I have a wife for."

She laughed and leaned closer. "You going to cross the Rio Grande every ti you want to nut?"

He grunted as her fingers danced along his forearm. "You work so hard. Take care of everybody. I just want soone to take care of you."

"What you really want is your money back," Ernesto said, moving her hand away with a flat look. "And you're not getting a penny."

She pouted, leaning in closer and biting her lip. "One of these days, Ernesto."

"Well, today's not that day, Maria. Now, what do you want?"

"A girl willing to work—if you can find one."

My face blanched. Their voices were low—barely a whisper—but to my ears, they scread.

"How old?" Ernesto asked, suddenly all business.

"Sixteen," she whispered. "I've got a client who's a bit… rough, but he pays well."

"Well enough to cover the last one's debt? And an advance on the new one?"

She nodded stiffly, then drew a number on the table. Ernesto's eyes widened slightly.

"This can't happen again," he said. "I don't care how much he pays. He can't keep breaking them. One of these days, a family mber's going to co looking and raise hell."

"You worry too much," Maria said.

"And you don't worry enough," he snapped.

"When will you bring her around?" she asked.

"Later tonight. Have it ready."

Maria got up and squeezed Ernesto's arm, kissing him on the cheek.

"You're a lifesaver."

The man snorted, eyes lingering far too long as she strutted out of the diner.

I'd be lying if I said my first instinct wasn't to throttle the sub-human piece of shit. He was scum, through and through.

Yet, he was the biggest lead I'd ever found.

I tailed him from a distance, no Cloak, just practicing my stealth as he handled mundane tasks—mail, clipped conversations with locals, dinner.

Night fell, and he disappeared behind the back door of a restaurant around midnight.

He descended a flight of stairs that opened into a room packed with migrants—sardined together like Juvie on steroids. People were tightly packed in bunks upon bunks, and so wandered aimlessly. Fans and AC units blared, but they did nothing for the riotous mix of odors that clung to the air.

The room straightened when he entered. I pulled out a tape recorder and started asuring.

"We've been here all week," an older woman said, voice level. "We can't continue like this."

"We're moving as fast as we can," Ernesto replied. "You know what happens if the governnt finds us. Deportation. Separation from your families. The end of our Laredo operation. We do this right, or we don't do it at all."

"But the coyote promised—"

"They promise a lot of things," he interrupted, "and force us to break them."

A rumble of unease rippled through the crowd. Most weren't surprised. A few were discontent.

"You're here for another girl, aren't you?" a man asked. "This is what—twice this week?"

"I'm not forcing anyone to do anything," Ernesto said. "But the club is the fastest way to pay off your debt. There aren't many options out there for people like us."

"You're nothing like us," a woman spat.

I saw Ernesto's jaw tighten.

He whistled toward the stairs. A few cooks ca clomping down—ard.

The murmurs rose, but Ernesto silenced them with a sharp whistle.

"All right. You know how this goes," he said. "Step up if you're interested."

There was a long hesitation. Young won glanced at their elders. Daughters slipped from their fathers' arms. Sisters from brothers. Whispered conversations. Desperate pleas.

A few tried raising a commotion, but it died fast after so sharp barks from the ard n.

Five girls stepped forward.

Ernesto chose two people roughly around my age. He led them upstairs and asked, low and nacing:

"How old are you? Don't lie to , or I'll make you regret it."

One girl was younger than Maria had asked for—fifteen. The other? Eighteen, though she had one of those deceptively young faces.

Wild guess which one he chose?

I almost slit his throat right there, but that'd cause more problems than it solved. I couldn't stop at Ernesto or Maria or the restaurant workers. I'd have to scour this town, burn down businesses, and execute corrupt cops, all while avoiding governnt agencies.

As loath as I was to admit it, the right thing to do was to hand over the evidence I've gathered so far to Batman. He's shown that he's halfway interested in doing the right thing.

And Laredo could do with so Batman-brand Justice right now, even if I disapproved of it.

It also ant I couldn't use Laredo as one of my channels. I'd have to smuggle sowhere up the river, or charter a ghost plane, or hire a coyote.

That said, it didn't an I couldn't save the girls and shut down the brothel in the anti.