The People Traders (22 page)

She shook her head slowly. "No one owns any person in this world. Oh, I agree you can hold someone against their will, even exchange this person with another for money if you want; but claim you own them, who do you think you are? God?"

He shrugged. "Argue it how you like, but I fed and housed you. In my book you were owned."

Karen grinned. "God yes, you're right, I forgot you actually fed me. But I seem to remember it was mostly with stale bread, cheese… lots of cheese, some revolting stuff you called stew and not forgetting the drugged drinks. Tell you what, Saeed, how about I pay you back for what I thought of your hospitality?" The gun fired and Saeed was sent spinning to the ground, clutching his shattered left leg.

"I'll kill you for that," he shouted at her.

"That was not what you should be saying, you should be thanking me, after all, I was only paying you for my food, Saeed," Karen replied with a grin on her face.

The gun fired again and Saeed's other leg was shattered at the foot. He screamed in agony.

Karen laughed. "Oops! Sorry did that hurt, my finger touched the trigger? Maybe if you paid me my money I'd stop fiddling?"

"Give her the fucking money, Saeed. Your stupid remarks will get us all killed," one man shouted at him and then the others shouted too, afraid the girl would turn the gun on them.

Saeed, in considerable pain, pointed to a large vase on the sideboard. "It's in there."

One rushed to the vase, knocking it to the floor and shattering it into fragments. Then he pulled a thick wad of money from the remains before holding it up.

"Throw it over here," she called.

He did as she asked and Karen grinned at Saeed. "I'm not bringing very good luck for you, am I, Saeed? What with losing at cards, spending money on me and now losing the payment... I hope my performance on this table was worth all the money you've paid out or lost?" she ribbed.

Saeed dragged himself across the floor and leaned on a chair. "You're dead, girl," he hissed.

Karen smiled at him. "I suppose you would like to kill me, Saeed? You know your mother read my palm the night you made me do that lap dance. Did she tell you? You see she was very scared and said I should never have come to this country. Do you know why that was?"

Saeed at that moment, in agony with his legs, really didn't want to answer this girl's questions, so he just shrugged. "She's a stupid old woman. Always claims she could read palms. So what load of rubbish did she tell you? Long life perhaps, maybe lots of kids? Mind you after Saturday night, mine probably!"

Karen shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint you, Saeed. I'm not pregnant; you just pulled my period forward, except, if I had been, I'd have relished the abortion to watch a little Saeed swilled down the sewer. Probably the same place your mother found you?"

Saeed scowled. "Well now you've got your money, piss off. You'll not be free long enough to spend any of it. Then, little girl, you'll not be going back to Sirec, I have better places for the likes of you; five men a session will be nothing to what you can expect before I finally kill you."

"Yes, Saeed, with a sick mind like yours, I suppose you would spend lots of time dreaming up such a place… until I was re-captured and you could actually send me. But if you think I'm going to give you that opportunity, you're more stupid than I thought." She hesitated for a moment, before continuing, her voice shaking slightly. "Tonight's shown me just what sort of people you really are, even in front of a gun you want to pull me down and threaten, because you consider I'm still that piece of shit under your foot. So you've made my mind up. If I leave here without you paying for your crimes, I'd let down every child who has passed through these doors. Children who, like me, had a family, but you took that and their dignity away, selling them into a life which could only be described as a living hell..." Karen fell silent while she brought together her final words to the men in the room. Words she'd dreamed of hearing in a court, if she'd ever managed to escape and tell the authorities what they'd been doing with children. But of course, those thoughts were to keep her spirits up when she was down, now this was reality. The men in the room, on their part, stared transfixed at this girl, trying to understand what she was about to say.

She looked at each one of them, her eyes cold and her face expressionless. "You see, only I'm present as the witness for the prosecution, the others you've sold over the years, like I was, are still with their buyers or dead. There is of course no judge or jury, so I'll be them as well. Have you anything to say before I consider the verdict?"

"You're insane; who do you think you are, standing there as some prima donna, talking like that?" Saeed asked with venom in his voice.

"My name's Karen Marshall," she screamed at him. "A name from a life you demanded I forget; Assam believing he only had to grind my valuables into the dirt and I'd forget. Well I won't and never will. So I ask you the same question. Who do you think you are? God…?"

"I'm not God, but perhaps you think you are, Karen, standing there with a gun?" he replied quietly.

She shook her head slowly. "I suppose you may believe I think I'm God, but I don't, although I do have a problem. If I took you to the local police, they're so corrupt, like you, a few pounds or whatever your currency is, will get you released and me? That doesn't bear thinking about. So yes, see me as God if you want? After all, you're all on trial."

The room fell silent as the minutes ticked by and then Karen sighed. "It would seem by the silence, none of you can think of anything in your defence? In that case, the jury finds you, Saeed, guilty of people trading and the rest of you guilty of gang rape, which, I suspect, is your usual type of entertainment if Saeed's comment earlier is to be believed? The only punishment fitting to your crimes is a sentence of death and this gun will be your executioner."

Her last words spurred the men into blind panic, but before any could scramble far from their seats, the gun came to life and four men lay dead or dying.

Saeed's face had a look of terror. He'd never once believed she had the nerve to kill; now everything had changed. He started begging for his life, offering her anything she wanted; but Karen remained indifferent to his pleadings, as if she was in some sort of trance. All she could think of were his mocking words as he and his friends took her on the table and Jane standing at the edge of Assam's ship before her throat was cut on his say-so. There was no need for that. The girl was a mother and now a child would have to grow up without a mother's love. Then there was Debbie, a stupid girl perhaps, but he conned her into thinking she was going home. However, more importantly were the faceless ones who'd come before, they too were entitled to retribution. Finally she'd had enough of his whimpering. If he'd been holding the gun he'd have been laughing, probably making lurid remarks or forcing her to stand once again naked in front of him, before being forced over the table and strapped. She shook her head slowly, at the same time gently squeezing the trigger. Saeed was thrown back by the impact of the bullets entering his body, and then the room fell silent.

Bending down and picking up the bundle of money, she walked out of the door. In some ways Karen felt sorry for Saeed's mother, but she was as bad as him, allowing children to be abused. She should have called the authorities, anything, to stop the trade in human misery. However, she'd been content to turn a blind eye and allow her son to make money. Now she would have to live the rest of her life knowing her prediction of death was more than just a prediction... it was reality and she'd lost her son. On her own part, Karen was content. Her promise to herself that every person who'd abused her would pay the price had begun. With Saeed's money, she was in a position to go after the others who'd helped bring her to this country, and they too would pay for their crime.

Taking the car keys from the side-table in the hall, Karen pulled the front door shut, replaced the gun in the bag and sauntered back to the two waiting soldiers. Smiling at them, she offered the keys to Garry.

"Saeed was glad to help. Told me it was Sirec's problem if he'd let me escape, he'd been paid. Told me to leave the car in a car park and give him a call. They're playing cards in there and I think he's winning, so he didn't really want to be disturbed."

Garry looked at her strangely but said nothing. What hold did she have over this man who gave her the keys?

CHAPTER 13

During the time Karen and the two soldiers had been hiding out the day after her rescue, a large black limousine roared past the security stationed at the entrance to Sirec's villa without stopping. Eventually it was forced to stop some sixty feet from the inner wall because the area was littered with fire tenders and police vehicles. The man who climbed out was expensively dressed, a little over six foot, well built with black hair tied back into a small ponytail. His features were Latin, his face olive brown. As he walked towards the entrance in the second wall, a man ran out to meet him.

Small, fat and covered in dirt, the man stopped short, gasping. "Sirec, we didn't expect you till late tonight."

Sirec looked at the man's dirty face. "It would seem not, Jordan, but when I'm told my villa has been destroyed it concentrates the mind somewhat. Perhaps I should see for myself, while you try to think up a good explanation as to what happened?"

Sirec walked on through the entrance with Jordon virtually running at his side to keep up, terrified at what Sirec was about to see. Jordan had hoped to have had time to tidy things up before he'd come.

"We don't know, Sirec," he began, "one moment it was quiet, then around two o'clock in the morning all hell broke loose. Security told me there have been at least two explosions. One in the power room followed by one below the radio masts. That, I'm afraid, was the killer, it took out the gas pipe from the storage tanks. They exploded and..."

He stopped in mid-sentence as Sirec could now see the extent of the devastation. The once superb villa was just a smouldering ruin. Not a roof was left, the walls partially destroyed, and contents of the villa scattered everywhere, shattered into pieces.

Sirec spun round and grabbed Jordan by the throat. "My villa... I should kill you and all the bloody security on last night. Why should I not do that, Jordan?"

Jordan was sweating, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish, at first without a sound coming out before realising he must answer. "But what more could I do, Sirec? The alarms on the perimeter weren't activated. The security insists no one came through, we can't understand who's done it unless it was an inside job. And the only person it could have been was the new girl I collected from Saeed last week."

Sirec looked at him for a moment, inside he was boiling. Then he grabbed Jordan's shoulders, his face inches from him. "Are you suggesting an eighteen year old kid brought in a suitcase of explosives, which I presume you might have noticed her carrying when you collected her, besides being trained in demolition tactics, and did this? If you are then you're more stupid than I thought. This is the work of military, a classic operation. First destroy the power and communication and you have panic. Then I ask myself why, why had they come? They'd more than likely know I wasn't here, so why, Jordan, why?" he screamed.

"To get something?" Jordan muttered.

Sirec pushed Jordan away. "Yes, Jordan, to get something." Sirec kicked a table lying shattered on its side while he stared at the villa. Then he turned to Jordan. "Has the safe been opened?"

Jordan shook his head.

"Any signs of a search? Like forced doors or open drawers?"

Again he shook his head.

"The girl, the girl you collected from Saeed. Where is she?"

Jordan shrugged. "Gone, I think," he said indifferently.

"You think, you bloody think!" Sirec screamed at him once again. "She's either fried to a crisp in there or she's done a runner, or..." Sirec went quiet for a second, then removed a cigarette from a gold case, and lit it, deep in thought. "The firemen, have they recovered any bodies?" he asked quietly.

"Two; they were the buyers from Parma due to meet you later today, but the strange thing was they'd been shot," Jordan replied.

Sirec sighed. "Why do I employ you, Jordan? Even your little pea brain might have realised; two people shot, an English girl missing. My bet is, mercenaries paid for by her family. They placed explosives around the house in case of problems, found the girl's bedroom, maybe with the help of our guests, maybe not, shot the guests so they didn't raise the alarm, and blew the bloody place to pieces either for the hell of it or more likely to make their escape. Do you think that sums the whole bloody mess up in one go?"

Jordan nodded without uttering a word.

By now another man had joined them; Sirec turned and pulled this man aside. "Halif, send out the word. I'll pay a reward of a hundred thousand for anyone who finds the men who did this. Another twenty for the girl, alive mind you. Then get over to Saeed's and find out how in hell they knew she was at the villa and most of all, take our payment back. As far as I'm concerned she never arrived here so he's blown it. That'll give him an incentive to find her."

Halif frowned. "The men, I understand a bounty for them, Sirec. But the kid? She's one of many, what's so important?"

Sirec grasped his arm, propelling him towards his waiting car. Now out of earshot and lowering his voice so no others could hear, Sirec frowned. "It's not the girl, Halif, she's nothing, but our reputation's everything. Allow one to get out and there'll be others. Our little sideline would be at risk, that I'm not prepared to chance. Mind you, I've a feeling somehow that if we find this girl, we find the people who did this."