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replacement with the details.”
    “Which may or may not go well for RED,” Nick said.
    I nodded. “If the new head doesn’t think we should be kept secret from the public or other members of the government, this could mean trouble and we could all be out of a job. It could even create a national scandal.”
    Nick pulled out the chair he’d had his hands braced on and he sat. “For now, why don’t you fill me in on Bachmann.”
    “I was just pulling up the files.” I had trouble changing my train of thought as I moved my gaze from his. I focused on my monitor and turned it so that he could see, too. A clear photograph of Bachmann, aka Hagstedt, was on the left side of the screen with a series of stats on the right. “This is what he looked like before the girl broke a glass vase and carved up his features. No doubt he had to have plastic surgery, and if he did we have no idea what he looks like now. She took off a piece of his ear and I don’t think that’s repairable.”
    That day was clearly etched in my mind. I had been undercover as a madam involved in a business heavily into the sex slave trade. I had escorted three beautiful young women who had been handpicked for Bachmann. The girls had been brought into the United States from China under false pretenses and sold as sex slaves.
    My cover had been blown and Bachmann had been about to shoot me when one of the girls nailed him across the face with the glass object.
    I continued, “He was formerly a well-known wealthy playboy in Switzerland who owned a ski lodge and a chocolate factory. All the while he was the mastermind of a multi-million-dollar sex slave trade operating around the world. Now he’s wanted in multiple countries thanks to RED.” Of course no one knew that RED was key to the whole operation, and that was fine with us.
    Nick glanced from the screen to me. “I’m up to date on that much.”
    I switched to another screen. “His home in Switzerland was seized and searched and he apparently had personal sex slaves in his home who were rescued. He also had a sex slave operation below his ski lodge and it’s suspected that key public figures indulged in his so-called business venture.”
    With a frown, Nick said, “What else do you have?”
    “We believe we’ve tracked him to Washington, D.C.” I brought up some other files on the monitor. “We can’t be sure, not yet, but that’s what our sources are reporting to us.”
    Nick studied the monitor. “What takes him there?”
    “We believe he has a high-level prostitution ring in the area and is working out of at least one of the major hotels. We’ve narrowed it down to four hotels in D.C.” I tapped my fingers on my desktop. “We’re not sure these women are slaves too, but we’re pretty sure he’s involved. It’s possible that it’s the only thing he has been able to hang on to now that we’ve started to tear down his organization.” I went on, “Fortunately he shouldn’t know the first thing about our agency.”
    Nick gave a thoughtful nod.
    I brought up an image of another man with a list of stats beside him. “This is Hans Johansen.” The blond man was large, powerfully built, and would probably have been considered handsome if not for his deadly looking scowl. “He’s supposed to be one of Bachmann’s personal enforcers.” I looked at Nick. “We learned that much before our informant was apparently disposed of by Bachman’s people, if what you said last night is accurate.”
    “It’s accurate.” Nick’s eyes were intense as he studied the monitor. I knew that Nick was memorizing every detail of the man’s image as well as his stats.
    “It wouldn’t surprise me if Johansen was the one who took care of our informant.” I brought up the image of another man with a series of stats next to his picture. “And here we have Eric Dawson.” I studied the man with dark hair, pockmarked face, mustache, and goatee. “He is reported to be one of Bachmann’s key