JANINE FROZE in front of the sewing machine. There were fabrics, accessories, and other materials for producing models - the pieces of clothing designed in the catalog next to her. Around her, several other girls were seated in front of the machine - just like her. Right at the front, near the entrance to the huge shed - which is the "newbies'" wing - the inspector was giving instructions about the workday.
"The workday starts at ten in the morning," she looked at her wristwatch, "that is, ten minutes from now. Your first break is for lunch, always at two in the afternoon, lasting two hours... which is quite sufficient. After that, you continue until ten at night. The workday ends and everyone participates in a headcount, to ensure that everyone is in the complex. If you cooperate, this count is finished in thirty minutes. Afterward, you have two hours to shower and have dinner. By midnight, you must be in the dormitory and asleep."
This place looks like a prison, thought Janine. In fact, it is a prison. A prison with slave labor.
"It is very important that everyone participates in the headcount," stressed the inspector. "If there is anything wrong, the count may be redone. We will only finish when the total number matches our database." The stern woman paused dramatically and continued: "You may be wondering: 'even if it takes all night?' The answer is yes."
Janine felt a chill. She was horrified at the possibility of that happening.
"But don't worry," the woman gave a hard smile that didn't reach her eyes. "This type of situation is rare because it only happens when someone decides to escape from here. And you can't escape from this complex because the security is maximum, just like a prison."
There was a moment of silence. A deathly silence.
"Without further ado..." the inspector took a whistle out of her front pocket, saying, "The workday has begun."
She blew the whistle for five seconds. The sound was shrill.
...****************...
EVERYONE WAS SEATED at their respective industrial sewing machines. Janine had to admit that the machine was good, but she remembered that she was there being subjected against her will. She could only stare blankly at the fabrics and papers with the pieces that needed to be produced that day.
"You'd better do something," a woman whispered to Janine, who was surprised that there was another Brazilian in the same place. The woman continued: "Otherwise, you run the risk of spending three days in solitary confinement or even more."
"I'm going to do something, yes," Janine's voice was fearful. "I'm going to get out of here."
"Don't do that," the young woman continued whispering, but incisively. "You run the risk of being erased."
"I'm not staying here."
"Unfortunately, you're just one more of us," the woman started producing a piece on the machine. "Before you try to do or plan anything, dance to the music."
A hand covered by a black leather glove landed on Janine's shoulder.
"Any problems?" It was the inspector. "Why haven't you started producing the first piece? Time is running out."
"She just had a question about the sewing machine," said the woman beside Janine. "She's going to start producing the piece now."
The inspector nodded, leaving. The woman said, "Get started" to Janine, who picked up a piece of fabric and started working on the sewing machine.
"What's your name?"
"Valquiria. And yours?"
"Janine."
"You'll have lunch with me today."
For the first time in days, Janine gave a weak smile. More out of technique than willpower, she started to work.
...****************...
HUGO WAS AT THE FEDERAL POLICE station, doing some paperwork at his desk. He wanted to leave everything organized before going on vacation and taking up his new position in another city. He was also remotely managing a large part of his move to Sao Paulo, leaving his friend Tande to manage only small tasks so as not to be too much work. Someone came near his desk while he was lost in thought while doing his work.
"Weren't you supposed to be on vacation?" Cesar stopped, sitting on the edge. His tone was playful. "You know you don't have to do any more paperwork, right?"
"I don't mind," Hugo shrugged. "The move is going well now."
"So, everything is working out?"
"Thankfully," Hugo let out a breath. "You have no idea how relieved I feel."
"I can imagine. Anyway..." Cesar picked up one of Hugo's pens and started playing with it between his fingers. "I didn't come here just to talk about your move."
"Is it about the case that I'm probably going to help with?"
"Exactly. The delegate there is a good friend of mine, Alex, and we talk to each other a lot."
"And what did he say?"
"The investigator is following up on some leads," Cesar replied. "The next one is to go to Barcelona, which was the last destination of the woman who disappeared."
"So that's where she was last seen, in this case."
"Exactly."
"Is he going to Barcelona?" Hugo frowned. "The investigator."
"The guy is good..." Cesar put the pen back on the desk. Hugo returned it to his pen holder. "He already dismantled a drug trafficking ring here. It wasn't too long ago..."
"Nice..." Hugo continued typing. He decided to change the subject, in a playful tone: "Do you want a souvenir from Fortaleza?"
"Of course," Cesar chuckled. "Bring a souvenir and a doce de leite. Anything."
"Okay..."
...****************...
"I WAS THINKING..." Pedro Henrique walked with Alex down the corridor at the Sao Paulo Federal Police station. "You said there's another investigator coming here?"
"Exactly," Alex walked with his hands in his pockets. "He's going on vacation this week and will take up the position next month."
"Oh. Is he from here?"
"No. He's coming from Rio."
"I understand." Pedro Henrique frowned, asking, "Do you know this guy?"
"I don't know him, but I'm a personal friend of the Delegate at the Federal Police in Rio. He spoke highly of the kid, said he's good."
"Oh, okay. Changing the subject..." Pedro Henrique opened an app on his cell phone. "I bought the ticket to Barcelona."
"For tomorrow?"
"Exactly. I'll stay for a maximum of three days. Just to gather clues and go back there another time."
"That's right," Alex agreed. "Do that. When you get back, we'll be expecting the guy back from vacation. He knows he's going to be on this case, but he doesn't know much about it."
Pedro Henrique just nodded.
...****************...
"I'VE ALREADY FOUND THE SOLUTION," Hank assured. Irina was still there in front of him, wanting to know what he had done to get the mafia off their backs. She added, "And no, you don't need to know."
"Come on," she shrugged. "At least so I know if it was well executed, right..."
"You can't be serious, Irina," Hank's tone was dry.
"Imagine... No," she hurried to say. "I would never doubt your problem-solving skills, boss."
"Stop trying to flatter me. Continue what you were trying to tell me."
"It's about the production target that was doubled. In less than twelve hours."
"Hmm..." Hank nodded. "They're not doing anything more than their obligation. We spend, spend, spend to get each one here, in search of a dream..."
"...which is to earn in euros..." Irina complemented.
"...And it's the least they can do for us: pay what they owe," Hank concluded. He really had no scruples.
"Right. I agree with you, boss."
Hank showed no expression.
"Oh..." Irina changed the subject. "I'll keep an eye on the newbie. The inspector told me that she wants to chat with another girl, who is Brazilian..."
"Do whatever you think is best. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take care of some bureaucratic issues that threaten to appear along the way."
"Okay..." Irina shrugged and headed for the door. "I'll come back later to negotiate my trip to Brazil."
Hank nodded and gestured for her to leave the room. Irina made a face as she closed the door behind her in the hallway.
"Annoying."
...****************...
LUNCH TIME. JANINE had finished her meal and went to the place where the trays were returned to the kitchen. She found Valquiria, her new colleague.
"I need to do something," Janine whispered discreetly.
"What, exactly?"
"I need to go to my dorm room. In the room, that is. Can I?"
"You can, but you need to ask permission from an inspector."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," Valquiria shrugged. "Everything here is controlled."
"What a mess, huh."
"Did you bring your toothpaste and toothbrush? It's mandatory to do this hygiene here after lunch."
"That's exactly what I need to do."
"Oh, then go to that woman over there," Valquiria pointed her head towards an inspector who seemed more reserved and observant. "She's more easygoing."
"Okay."
Janine walked towards the woman who was at the entrance to the cafeteria. A little awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck, she looked into the woman's icy eyes.
"Hi. I forgot my toothpaste and toothbrush kit. Can I go get it?"
"You can," the woman opened the gate, looking discreetly from side to side. "See if you don't take too long to come back."
"Okay."
She walked slowly, but as soon as she turned right, she started walking quickly. Arriving at her dorm, it was unlocked - luckily, because they used to lock it. There was no other inspector around. She quickly went inside, making no noise.
There's a ventilation duct there. She just didn't have the courage to explore it. But taking a deep breath, she began to remove the grate, placing it to the side. She was very careful not to make any more noise. With the duct open, Janine analyzed that the space would fit her. There began to emerge a perfect plan.
Hearing heavy footsteps - which she knew were boots; and those who wore boots were the inspectors - the young woman put the grate back on the duct.
"What are you doing here?"
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