The Request

"Human trafficking throughout the country is reaching unmanageable levels. The northwest white slave trade has been growing more rapidly than ever. We've tried to keep tabs on known traffickers, on any shipments coming in and out of the coastal towns, but disappearances are rising. It is getting out of hand and soon we are going to have full on public outrage unless we do something. We've been investigating a few leads in the Seattle area, but all of our intelligence is limited…the trafficking ring is larger…much larger than we would have thought possible and there is no way of knowing who is involved. We need….an inside man, so to speak."

"And that's where I come in."

"Yes."

"You want me to go in as a buyer? Or.."

"No. We have attempted to infiltrate via the purchaser route before…it is a tiered organization, very secretive, and impossible to penetrate from the buyer's side... we simply do not have the resources."

"So you need me to go in as a captive."

"Yes, Miss Steele."

"Is there an extraction point?"

"Yes Miss Steele. We have a man on the inside, on the buyer's side, first tier, he's new but trusted by a few key members we've identified. Your task would be simple. Get in. Get an insider's view of what goes on behind the scenes, where, how, and most importantly who is involved. The ring has been growing the past 6 months ,our man would wait for you…purchase you at the earliest opportunity and get you both out."

"Good…Because there's only a thousand and one ways that plan can get royally fucked…" She laughed, but there was no humor in her voice.

"We can't guarantee your safety, Miss Steele. Our man is good though. He will get you back out. But we need you. We need someone with your skill set. On the inside. We need to bring these sons of bitches down. Hundreds of young men and women go missing each year in the Washington area alone, thousands in the North West greater. We know that this group is behind many of them, we just need the proof. And we need someone who can think on her feet. Someone who can get herself out if our extraction effort fails. We need you."

"I understand."

"Will you do it?"

"This wont be easy."

"No. It wont be. You must do nothing that will link you back to the Agency. They cant know we are involved or it puts every victim at stake. And we will never get another chance at this. "

"I understand."

"If anything goes wrong at the extraction. I'm sorry…But we wont be able to risk going in after you. You would be completely on your own. It's a lot to ask, but I have every faith in you Miss Steele. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Please, Miss Steele. We need you."

"I'll do it."

The Bait

Anastasia Steele stared at her reflection in the mirror. Tonight was the night. After weeks of preparation and investigation, tonight would be the night she went in. Anastasia knew the risks. She understood the danger and she knew she was perfect for this job.

Her dark brown hair had been styled into a high pony at the crown of her head. Her already pale skin was painted and contoured, and she wore too much eye shadow and mascara, the darkened colors causing her bright blue eyes to pop in a way that was all about being noticed. She knew she looked young, it was part of the allure she was aiming for when she pulled on the tight, off-the-shoulder, black dress. It was sexy but demure, and the tight fabric showed off her fit, lithe body. She complimented the dress with a pair of sturdy, gold pumps.

She was to go in, unarmed, with no identification, no contacts, no weapons, and nothing that could link her back to the agency. Her only piece of high tech equipment was the contact lens she wore in her right eye- it was designed to be worn for up to six weeks, a microscopic camera within it recording everything she saw visually when her eyes were open. It would be used by the agency to identify and target the criminals involved within the organization. Seattle was a hub for human trafficking, and it was Anastasia's job to bring down those who would prosper from the misery of others.

According to the intel she had received, Midnyte, a hip, if aging dance club near the center of the city, was a hot spot for kidnappings related to the trafficking ring. Anastasia was to go in, let herself be seen as bait, and get herself kidnapped in order to infiltrate. Once in she would be able to get a first-hand look at the inner workings of the crime ring; those involved, those in charge, the scope of the operation. Her partner for this mission had infiltrated on the buyer's side months ago. She knew little about him aside from the fact that he had infiltrated as a low-tier buyer , able to purchase but without any knowledge of whom he would be dealing with aside from the lowest ring of enforcers. He would extract her from her captivity in the guise of purchasing her as his own sex slave. The thought made Anastasia's lip curl. Her…owned. She scoffed at the idea, But she knew that the idea wasn't that farfetched for the hundreds if not thousands of men and women that were being taken by this group and sold into lives of servitude and pain. She would put a stop to them.

She was ready. It was time.

The Club

The club was crowded and the music was loud, the base thumping in that way that caused Anastasia's heart to beat in time to the music. She had a job to do, but she had to admit, she enjoyed dancing, allowing her body to move to the music in ways designed to entice and excite. She wasn't in it for the attention, of course, she was supposed to get noticed. She made a point of never dancing near or with the same person for more than the course of one or two songs. She needed to appear unattached, alone. She was alone, after all. She continued to move, scanning the room for anything suspicious. For all intents and purposes, it was a normal club. Normal music, normal patrons, normal bartenders and bouncers, nothing that screamed Sex Slaves, Inc. But she knew her intel wasn't wrong, and she'd done her own research on this place and others like it. The easiest way to stay hidden was to be something else. This place was a dance club; but it wasn't. It was a harvesting point for fresh, young slaves. They were careful about who they took, no one that would be noticed, no one that would be missed. In a city like Seattle, there were plenty of unattached young anonymous people, with little or no friends and family, perfect victims, no muss, no fuss. And no one to raise the alarm. No one except the occasional land lord pissed at the tenant who skipped town and stopped paying their rent.

Anastasia had been dancing for just over an hour and she was getting hot. She made her way over to the bar, swinging her hips to the music as she sashayed and waited her turn. In a matter of seconds the bartender noticed her and asked her what she was drinking. She ordered a vodka soda, and leaned up against the bar as he handed it to her. She sipped it and looked out at the crowds

"I haven't seen you 'round here before, what's your name?" The bartender grinned at her, shouting over the music. She continued to sip

"It's Ana!" She answered, completely ignorning the triteness of his come-on and giving him a mega-watt smile, the kind she knew made men swoon.

"Now I know I would have noticed you before, what's a pretty thing like yourself doing dancing all alone?" He flirted voraciously, taken in by her charms. Anastasia had practiced for this.

"I just moved here!" She shouted over the music so the bartender and anyone who might be eavesdropping could hear. "Cool club!" She grinned again, going for that starry-eyed too-young routine that she knew made her appear both alluring and vulnerable."

"Well you came to the right place! Name's Rick! You need anything you just holler, got it?" He winked at her before hurrying off to the other end of the bar to wait on a group of college boys. Anastasia finished her vodka soda and her surveillance of the club: roped off VIP area near the stairs, back room located just behind the bar, front and side entrances, bouncers at each location. The main floor was primarily dance room, with booths lining the back walls. A hall off to the left and near the back held the restrooms. She eyed the VIP area, a couple of balconies overlooking the main dance floor. The bottom and top of the stairs were manned with bouncers, and a circular booth held a rather imposing looking dark-skinned man. He was bald, but had a neatly trimmed goatee. He sat by himself watching the dancers below, occasionally, he gestured for one of the bouncers to approach so he could tell him something in his ear. Ana eyed the man and made a mental note of the bouncers who were closest to him, a foreboding-looking brunette with sharp dark eyes, and another bald, tanned man who seemed to be members of the first man's entourage.

"Hey there beautiful…what's your name?" One of the frat-boy-esque club goers approached her. He sidled up next to her at the bar and pushed his body against her side. "Can I buy you a drink?" She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This "bro" was not one of her targets. And she didn't feel like wasting her time with him.

"No thanks! I'm good!" She grinned holding her empty vodka soda out and pretending to sip it.

"Awww…come on baby, don't give a guy the cold shoulder like that. Do you want to dance?" He tried again, leaning in even closer to her as if he was about to nuzzle her neck. Again, Ana resisted the urge to kick him in the balls.

"No thanks" She spoke a little more forcefully this time, narrowing her eyes at the young man in front of her, sizing him up as a jock-type cool kid, used to getting what he wanted.

"Whatever, stuck up cunt!" He leaned away from her, huffing, "Your potato face isn't worth my time anyway." He stalked off and Ana felt herself wanting to actually laugh out loud. Potato face? That was a new one. She kept her composure though, opting for looking shaken instead, she was supposed to have low self esteem, supposed to be meek.

"You okay, sweetie?" It was Rick, the bartender. He'd circled back around to check on her . She looked up at him as if she was surprised he was checking on her.
"M-me? Yeah. Yeah I-I'm fine….Th-that guy was just being a jerk, you know?" She gave the bartender an uneasy smile. He gave her a sympathetic one in return.

"Can I get you anything else, hun? On the house?" He asked, concern evident in his voice. Ana nodded, receptive.

"Another vodka soda?" She asked, making her voice sound a little higher and unsure. Rick the bartender smiled at her, setting the glass he'd been cleaning down on the bar with a flourish.

"One vodka soda, coming right up!"

Ana took the opportunity to look around the bar again, a few more guys were leering at her, obvious in their intent. A gaggle of girls were drinking together near the middle of the bar and eyeing her critically. A nervous looking guy was leaning against the wall near the hall to the bathrooms, looking as though he were trying to work up the courage to approach her. None of these people were her targets. She hoped this would not be a wasted night. She needed to infiltrate sooner, not later. She needed as much time on the inside as she could get before her extraction point. They were all counting on her. She couldn't let them down. Ray had taught her better than that. And she wanted to make Ray proud.

Rick the bartender returned with a fresh vodka soda and bottle of water. The water had a secondary Mydnite label on it, advertising the bar. He pushed both drinks toward her.

"One vodka soda for the pretty lady, and one water." He smiled at her kindly "I don't want you to forget to hydrate." He gave her a wink. She nodded at him in thanks, and downed her vodka quickly. It was time to get back on the dance floor and make herself noticed. She had to pick up her game . Rick the bartender was right though. It wouldn't kill her to hydrate as she worked, especially with as hot as the crowded dance floor could get. She cracked the bottle of water open, tossing the twist-off cap to the floor as she took a long swig.

She finished her bottle of water half way through the next song, swinging her hips to the rhythym and working her way toward the hall that led to the restrooms. She wanted to toss the bottle and she wanted to investigate the back rest-room area. She thought maybe she should dance a while longer, but her stamina was waning and she really wanted to get off her feet a minute. She hadnt been out there too long, but the floor was feelin ga lot more crowded and claustrophobic than it had earlier in the evening.

Ana stumbled a little as she made her way toward the bathroom of the club. She felt woozy, and tired, and like she'd had far too much to drink. But she hadnt. She'd had two-watered down vodka sodas, and one 20 oz bottle of water. She knew exactly what was happening. She'd been drugged.

Ana felt herself weavign through the crowd until she made it to the back wall and the hall that led to the bathrooms. She'd planned to investigate the area, but she was having a difficult time focusing. She stumbled again and into the chest of the nervous-looking man from earlier, the one who'd been too embarassed to approach.

"Hey! Are you okay?" His tone indicated he was pretty sure she was not. Her vision was blurred but she managed to focus on his face; concern was etched into his features. "Maybe you should go home, huh?" He added when she tried to form a coherent sentence in response and only managed a slurred

"nahhh 'mm fine..."

"You two okay? She with you, bro?" It was the overly-concerned voice of Rick the bartender from before.

"Uh - no man, I dont know...Hey miss...er.." the man currently propping her up was at a loss for what to do. Ana wanted to tell him to mind his own business. She was working here. But she was so tired and her limbs were increasingly feeling like lead. Whatever she'd been slipped, it was fast acting.

"Bring her back here, I can call her a cab."

Ana felt herself being moved from one torso to another, but her conciousness was slipping fast.

"Hey thanks man...She gonna be okay?"

"Yeah I'll make sure she gets some water before the cab getse here. Thanks boss! Ana, hun, its Rick, i think you might have had a bit too much okay?

She felt herself being pulled forward, but her eyelids were too heavy to keep open any longer. She had done it. She was going in.

This was the last thing she thought before her world went black.

A/N: Hello all - I know I shouldnt be starting up a new story while I am still working on The Fall of Grey - but this one was rattling in my head and demanded to get out. Please let me know if its something I should continue working on in tandem with my other fic - It's going to be quite different, very AU with a strong, kick-ass Ana and a dark scenario. It might take a few chapters for Christian to make an appearance but rest assured I have big plans for him in this as well. Updates will probably be slow to start because I am mainly focusing on my first fic. But if this works out I will make sure to focus efforts on updating this in tandem.

thank you! :)