Reply to East Moreland
These terms all more than acceptable. By the time trial begins, we'll have figured out a solution on our side. Any personal effects found or directly relating to the East Morelanders will be physically handed over and access to a database for the rest of the evidence will be given. If during your own investigation, you find that you need physical access to any of it, we'll be more than willing to hand over any items requested.
Signed
Seeker Dutuzu
Dutuzu shuddered at the air. It wasn't necessarily cold, but it felt oppressive. He eyed the guard accompanying him in the elevator. When Dutuzu was named the Helgaran Seeker, he hadn't expected trips to Irkallu would be part of his job. Irkallu was the most secure prison in the Confederacy, meant only for the worst criminals and political prisoners. And today, Dutuzu would get to speak with one of the worst. Prisoner Humbaba. His real name was highly confidential, so the code name was assigned for official dealing with him.
The elevator reached its underground destination. The guard nodded at Dutuzu as the doors opened. It was a long hallway, with glass walls for the various cells on either side. The Speaker started the long walk to Humbaba's cell at the end of the hallway. He could feel the rage of the prisoner's eyes as he passed by them. Fortunately, they must be used to officials stopping by to visit prisoners because most were content to ignore him. He had expected lots of screaming and wall banging. In a way this was more nerve-wracking.
But that all changed once they realized he was heading to the end of the hallway. "Humbaba!" The shout came from behind Dutuzu as the prisoner had figured it out. Then they all started to shout, their rage echoing across the chamber. Dutuzu wanted to cover his ears the noise was so loud but refused to. He would not show weakness. From the briefing reports he read, if he did Humbaba would give him nothing.
The Speaker reached the end of the hallway. There was a guard already waiting. He stepped into the cell (which took some time as every cell had a two-door lock that was controlled remotely from guards upstairs) and cuffed Humbaba and he was chained to the floor. Then Dutuzu was led in. The guard hovered for a moment, unsure, until the Speaker waved him out. He nodded and existed the cell.
Dutuzu looked back at Humbaba. He was seating in a metal chair that was bolted to the floor. From what he had seen of the other cells, it must have been done in anticipation of his visit. There was also a metal table and another chair, both bolted as well.
"May I?" Dutuzu gestured to the seat and Humbaba nodded. He looked young, maybe in his mid 20s at the most. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his upper body had several spaced-out tattoos all over it. Dutuzu sat, putting his hands on the table. The prisoner was doing the same, resting his heavy chains against the table so he didn't have to hold them up.
"And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to today?" His voice had no accent. Dutuzu couldn't place him. He knew the prisoner had grown up as a street criminal, rising through the ranks of street gangs, so he should have a thick accent and his speech full of slang. But it wasn't.
"You speak quite well for a
Zur'de."
He smiled at that. "Yur rathe' I talki wit u 'ccent?" It was clean and if Dutuzu hadn't heard him speak earlier, he'd think it was his natural voice.
"Who are you?" The questioned escaped from Dutuzu before he had a moment to think. It was uncalculated and a clear mistake.
"I asked you first. Where are your manners? Besides, I can't tell you that. You have no idea how many legal agreements and contacts I'm under," He smiled amused. No doubt happy that the stranger was caught off guard.
"I'm Speaker Dutuzu." The prisoner whistled at the title.
"A damn Elder. What is one as high up as you doing around here,
I'tta?" It was a word of honor, spoken as a sign of respect. And it was an Asurian custom. Humbaba supposedly grew up in Traetor, not a place where he would learn something like that. Just who was he?
"The newspaper you were given earlier." Dutuzu didn't want to explain the situation so he had requested that the headline of the bust be given to the prisoner ahead of time. That of course caused a nightmare situation as officials didn't want to give him unfiltered access to current events. So, some poor souls stayed up all night writing the copy for a fake newspaper to give to Humbaba.
"Ah that. I suppose you'll be getting a lot of names soon. Perhaps quite a few government ones too. Whata lucky find. Why see me about it?"
"Name your price." Dutuzu wanted this to be quick. Humbaba gave him the creeps. There was so many things off about him.
"Freedom. I want out."
"Out of the question. You know that"
He smiled. He had been waiting years for this moment. "Fine. I figured one day someone would come crawling to me. I'll give you whatever information you want the first time. Which'll be this one. But next time, I'm not saying anything unless my release is guaranteed. Is that fine with you?" Dutuzu considered it. But only for a moment. If he was serious about the deal, which he was not a man that made idle comments, then Dutuzu really had no choice. Even if he left now, the prisoner wouldn't give them another freebie. Next time it would cost them everything.
"Go ahead, ask your question." Dutuzu wanted to curse. Humbaba was a slimy one. No wonder he almost united the street gangs of Traetor. He had been born in another life, a life of privilege, he'd have a seat at the Elders' council.
"This human trafficking. How far does it extent? How international is it?"
Humbaba grinned. "It's extent? In what way do you mean? No matter what, its large. Almost every gang was in some way connected. It was the most profitable business venture. Wither you were involved in transporting, storage or security, every teenager with a criminal record looking to make a buck dreamed of being involved. There's just so much money in it. If you really care about putting an end, you'll have to starve the money. At least, that's how I'd do it. So, where does the money come from, right? There’re really three answers. The first is internationally, of course. Someone in your position must at least have a grasp on how important Griss is to large-scale organizations. Its effectively a blind spot in international policing. And, no offense, but the Confederacy police are not picking up the slack. The second is tied to the first. At least, I estimate it is.
Traetorian crime is heavily intermixed with Talaos terrorism. The Talaos need some way to fund their operations and they provided a steady stream of labor and organization. Street gangs like I was a part of struggle to compete with the insurgents. It's rebellious kids versus cultural holy warriors. You see but the issue is why. Why do the Talaos involve themselves in crime? Why not just focus on waging their war? From what I've seen, they have enough money and supplies that they could cut back on their involvement heavily. But I think it acts as a shield. They can hide numerous things under the guise of criminal activity rather than terrorism. Also, I think they've heavily invested their assets in it. It kinda makes sense doesn't it? The insurgents are far better supplied than expected, right? Seeming to have access to cash and weaponry that they shouldn't. I'm sure the Confederacy has been monitoring their usual funders, and the numbers aren't adding up, right? It's all a powerful and very illegal smoke screen.
The third is political corruption. Most of the cliental are government officials. Honestly, they're the only ones outside of Novan corporate junkies that can afford it. They make a killings worth in bribes and hush money and then blow it on drugs and girls."
Dutuzu tried to lean back in his chair, forgetting it was bolted down. He'd have to pass on the information about the insurgents to Ciklo. She'd be the one to figure out if Humbaba's hunch was right. It could turn the tide in Traetor. If they tackled the insurgency simultaneously with the crime world, they would both be severely weakened, and the affect would compound on itself. It was also won Dutuzu over that Humbaba was truthful. The rest of what he said the Seeker more or less already knew. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and pad.
"Give me a list of every single official you've dealt with, you know someone's dealt with, you've heard rumors of them being shifty. I want it all." It was a large task; it would be hundreds of names. Names Duzutu knew he'd been saving for this exact moment. A gutter rat doesn't become one of the most powerful crime lords without having dozens of security measures. Here in this room, the two of them might just stomp out political corruption and organized crime in Griss. Humbaba just grinned. Even though the prisoner was giving away all this info, Dutuzu couldn't shake the the feeling he was somehow getting the worse end of the deal.