The Trainer

“Brilliant work Syl, I know how hard this assignment was and it paid off.”

Mark’s voice echoes from the phone on the countertop in my small kitchen as I pile several scoops of coffee into my cheap coffee maker.

“Thanks, I’m definitely glad that it’s over and I’m looking forward to the shit storm that rains down when it’s published,” I say as I close the lid and push the button.

“Yeah, I did not anticipate how many police officers were involved,” he says. “What a bunch of scumbags.”

I shrug as if Mark can see me.

“So, what’s next?”

“Syl…you just finished an expose on an underground dog-fighting ring. Take the week off, or at least the weekend. Recharge your batteries,” he says. “Why don’t we go out tonight and tie one on?”

I scoff as I pour a cup of coffee and cradle it in my hands.

“You think getting me drunk will help me forget?” I ask.

Mark chuckles.

“No but we always have a good time when you’re tipsy,” he says in a mischievous tone.

I roll my eyes.

“Mark, we fucked one time, when are you going to move on?”

Mark chuckles again.

“Maybe when we both get lives outside of our jobs?”

“Fat chance, but seriously, find me something. You know I can’t sit still,” I say, taking the coffee and phone to my living room and plopping down in my favorite ratty chair.

Mark sighs and I hear several clicks of his computer mouse.

“There isn’t a lot in the tip line right now. Illegal bird trade, fentanyl in schools, death threat, death threat—“

“Forward those to me, I love reading them,” I say with a smirk.

“You’re twisted. Looks like something came in from our friend at the FBI,” he says.

“What’s he want?”

“Eh, he doesn’t say. You know he doesn’t trust our encryption,” he says. “He sent this two days ago.”

I check my watch. It’s 10:15am on a Friday. If the agent’s assignment is still available, he may still be able to meet today.

“Alright, set up a meeting.”

I wore my favorite faded jeans and a soft, white blouse for our meeting with Agent Thomas. I style my caramel colored bob into messy waves and finish my look with nude pumps. It always felt nice to dress like myself again, even for a brief time.

I spot Mark outside the FBI office. His dark hair is combed back but his beard was bordering unruly and he dressed up his normal v-neck and wrinkled jeans with a gray blazer. He smiles when he sees me.

“Hey boss” I say as I approach him.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” He asks as he checks his watch. “You were almost on time.”

“I’m only ten minutes late,” I say. “Plus you can’t rush perfection.”

“Well, let’s not keep him in suspense,” he says as he holds the door to the large imposing building open for me.

We check in at the front desk where the receptionist takes our photo and hands us guest badges to wear around our necks. After taking the elevator up, we sit in a waiting room until Agent Thomas appears and guides us back to his small, windowless office.

Mark and I settle into two chairs in front of the agent’s desk. Agent Thomas unbuttons his suit jacket and sits in his chair.

“Thanks for reaching out,” he says. “I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you,”

“I was wrapping up an assignment, just put the finishing touches on last night actually,” I say.

“What was the subject?” Agent Thomas asks as he folds his hands on the desk in front of him.

“Dog-fighting ring ultimately involving several police officers and local government officials,” Mark says.

Agent Thomas winces.

“That’s a tough one,” he says as he runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

I nod.

“It was, which is part of the reason I want to move on. I don’t need to stew on what I just experienced,” I say.

“You sound more and more like an agent all the time Sylvia,” he says as he pushes a folder towards me. In small black lettering it reads Cloud 9 on the front.

"Cloud 9? Sounds like a day spa," I say opening the folder.

"It's a BDSM club, or rather a program at a BDSM club called Bliss," he says, watching me carefully to gauge my reaction.

"BDSM? As in—"

"Bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism," Agent Thomas finishes Mark's sentence.

"You need someone to go undercover at a rough sex club? Why?" I ask.

"Cloud 9 is a specific training program within Bliss. Those who enter the program are vetted and prepped to be 'bought' in an auction by those looking for a relationship with a submissive. The buyers are anonymous but are thought to be some of the most powerful and influential people in town," he says casually as if he is reading a McDonald's menu.

“And you want to shut the program down?”

Agent Thomas shakes his head.

“No, everyone who enters the program does so willingly, they are careful to obtain consent and everyone is free to leave at any time,” he says.

“I don’t understand, what’s the point of the program? If they can leave any time, why enter?”

“We assume it’s to be connected with a dominant person who wants a relationship with a sub. A BDSM matchmaking program so-to-speak,” he says.

“Okay, so what do you want?” I ask, confused.

"The list of buyers," he says matter-of-factly. “And any other information about the program. Someone there knows something.”

"Knows something about what?" Mark asks.

Agent Thomas looks between Mark and I, trying to decide how much information to give us.

"Two people associated with the program were murdered," he says. "And another was kidnapped and nearly killed. We need leads to find the killer. And...we have been unsuccessful through conventional tactics."

Mark scoffs but I just tilt my head while considering this information.

"So you want her to put her life on the line to do your dirty work?" Mark says.

"I'm simply offering an assignment, you have worked on cases for us in the past and I feel you are trustworthy. You also look the part. I don't think you will have any issues gaining access to the information we seek," he says. “And, of course, we will pay.”

"How do you know the victims were associated with Cloud 9?" I ask as I can feel Mark give me a shocked look.

"The live victim suggested she may have seen the other two in the club scene before they were found dead. Surveillance and the employees at Bliss confirmed it. The victim went through the Cloud 9 program herself though she doesn’t know who bought her. They kept their identity a secret.”

“And then?”

“She was held in captivity and beaten. She escaped when someone left a door unlocked.”

“Raped?”

“No, surprisingly. We assume he did not have the chance.”

I take a moment to consider this info before moving on.

“Cause of death?”

“Strangulation,” he says. “We questioned multiple employees at the club but they provided very little information. So we’ve tried to go undercover but gaining access has been harder than anticipated. Our subjects keep getting their applications rejected."

"What makes you think they'll accept mine?" I ask.

"I don't. But you've clearly been able to infiltrate some dangerous and secretive spaces," he says. At this he leans back in his chair and watches me as I peruse the folder. There are some photos as well as interviews with people associated with the club. Several black bars in the paperwork indicate items have been redacted but there is still a lot of information to comb through.

"Okay, I'll give it a shot."

"Sylvia, you're not serious are you?"

I look at Mark who's eyebrows are knitted together in confusion and concern.

"Mark, the things I've recently seen have been burned into my psyche. I need a papate cleanser and I can certainly handle some spanking and handcuffs," I say then feel my ears and cheeks turn red.

Mark sighs.

"So that's a yes?" Agent Thomas asks, raising an eyebrow.

I nod.

"Excellent, we have an identity for you as they will run a rigorous background check. And due to the...intimate nature of the scene, we can not have any monitoring or recording devices on you," he says.

Mark scoffs.

"So you're just sending her in there with zero protection?"

Agent Thomas narrows his eyes at Mark.

"These women were not harmed until after they left Cloud 9. We don't intend for Sylvia to actually graduate from the program. In the meantime, you'll need to take detailed notes in secret. I hope you have a good memory," he says as he looks back to me. "We will have a surveillance team keeping tabs on you outside the club and I will check in with you regularly. If you can at least help us figure out where to look next, we are confident we can locate the culprit, hopefully before another woman is murdered."

"This is fucking insane. We're not talking about a corporation illegally dumping chemicals here, this is way above our paygrade," Mark says but I turn to him.

"Mark, people's lives are at stake. This is literally why we do what we do. I want to do this but I can’t do it without you," I say. Mark sighs as he studies me for a moment.

"Fine, but the second something goes awry, you need to get out safely," he says. I nod.

"That's if she get's in at all," Agent Thomas says matter-of-factly. "They will watch her closely in and out of the club so you will need to be her liaison to pass information to me.”

Mark sighs again and rubs his forehead.

"Fine."

I smile at Agent Thomas.

"Sounds like we have a deal.

"Anastasia Levine," I say as I look at my fake ID featuring a photo of myself with a new dark brown hairstyle. "Do you think it should be 'Anna-STAYSHUH' or "Anna-STAHSSIA?"

Mark snatches the ID from my hand and studies it.

"The first one," he says as he hands it back to me and continues unpacking groceries in the apartment. Agent Thomas set us up in two furnished apartments in the same building near the club. That way, if they are watching me, it simply looks like I'm living alone and they won't suspect another tenant is actually my messenger and FBI liaison.

"Anastasia...should I have an accent?" I ask.

Mark laughs.

"You're terrible at accents. So no," he says.

I laugh and roll my eyes.

"Why did you buy so much stuff?" I say looking at all the packets of ramen, frozen pizzas, and tv dinners.

"Hey, I'm not leaving any of our budget on the table. They can afford it," he says. "So, when are you leaving?"

"For the club? The invite the agent gave me says it starts at 9PM."

“What kind of event is it?” He asks.

“I think it’s supposed to be an open house of sorts, a way to bring in new members,” I say.

Mark leans against the counter.

"You sure you want to go through with this?" He asks. "It feels like you're volunteering for a fucking cult or something."

I hop up onto the counter and tear open a bag of chips.

"Yeah, I mean, it's definitely not my scene but I'm...kinda curious ya know? Plus, there's two dead woman. If I can help prevent a third, I want to," I say.

Mark crosses his arms and studies me with one eyebrow raised.

"So you're not into whips and chains eh? Never asked for a light spanking in the sack?" He says with a smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes at him.

"We have literally had drunken sex Mark, you've seen it, you've seen all the exciting moves I have to offer," I say. "I'm just not that into sex."

Mark studies me for a moment.

"Well, maybe something at Bliss will peak your interest," he says shrugging.

"Doubtful. Speaking of, I need to go shower so I can get ready."