The People Traders (29 page)

"It is done," the pilot said in perfect English.

Moments later, Chapman was at her side. He squeezed her arm and nodded. "Good girl," he whispered then turned to the pilot. "Call them on the loud speaker, tell them the ’copter is taken and to lay down their arms."

He shrugged then shouted a few words into the mike. Then he turned to Chapman. "I told them but it's pointless. You see within a few minutes this place will be crawling with soldiers. You and your comrades have no chance," he said indifferently.

Karen looked out of the window. "They don't seem to be doing anything," she said quietly.

"Tell them again," Chapman shouted, "this time be more authoritative."

Once again the pilot demanded they drop their weapons, this time Karen could see the men doing as he asked and moving away from Farrow and the others.

"That's better. Now out of the helicopter and join them," he demanded.

The pilot unclipped his belt and slid out of the seat, stepping down from the small cabin into the rear of the helicopter. Karen had backed away and was watching, her gun following the pilot's movements.

He glared at her. "You're just a kid, what are the British sending these days?"

She smiled. "That may be, but already some of your kinsfolk have found when somebody's holding a gun, age or sex have little importance, they still die."

He shrugged, then turned and jumped down onto the ground before moving over to the soldiers already taken prisoner by Farrow, who'd by now realised what was happening.

He walked over to Chapman. "Good work, Chapman."

"It wasn't just me, Sir, Karen took the pilot herself."

Before he could say anything, Karen cut in. "The pilot said others were on their way. Can anybody fly this thing?"

Farrow turned and called to one of his men. "Get this ’copter going, we need to get out fast. Karen said others are on their way," he called.

The pilot of the helicopter stared at her for a moment, then looked at Farrow. "She's Karen Marshall?"

"She is, what of it?" Farrow replied.

"But that's Sirec's girl. The whole country's looking for her. He's offered half a million for her return," he stuttered.

Karen laughed at him. "Half a million, you say? Pity you've not been able to collect then. If your friends had protected the helicopter better, we'd have had no chance."

By now the helicopter was roaring, Farrow called Karen and the two others guarding the pilot and soldiers. They moved quickly, sitting on the open side of the helicopter, their guns still directed at the prisoners. Within seconds the helicopter rose into the air.

Farrow patted Karen's back. "I didn't have time to congratulate you, Karen. You never cease to amaze me with your capabilities."

She felt proud at his words and moved to the back of the hold, settling down close to Hawkins.

Hawkins grinned and offered her a biscuit. "One for the book that, Karen," he said, between crunching noisily.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, Farrow's never given us any compliments," he complained.

It was time for Karen to laugh. "Why should he, it's your job?"

Hawkins didn't have time to respond as at that moment they began to descend. Karen could see Franco by the side of the lorry, waving at them. As the helicopter touched the ground, he too climbed aboard, then it instantly lifted again. Hawkins, able to speak the local language, had been monitoring the radio traffic and called back to Farrow.

"They are onto us, Sir. Possibly the pilot has told someone; they've ordered the helicopter to be brought down at any cost."

Farrow indicated his understanding. "Keep us posted if you hear anymore about us..." he shouted back.

Karen, having finished the biscuit, was passing the time cleaning her gun and checking how much ammunition she still had. It was at that moment she saw a flash from the ground, others too had seen it and the helicopter banked sharply, the engines protesting as the pilot started to throw it about. Moments later there was an explosion and the whole machine shuddered.

"That was close," Farrow shouted to the pilot.

"We've another two incoming, Sir. I think they mean business," Chapman shouted back.

Hawkins moved closer to her side. "There are more missiles on their way, Karen. We'll have to brace for impact," Hawkins shouted above the roar of the engines.

She looked confused, not knowing what to do.

He grasped her shoulders, pulling her head close to his chest. "Keep your hands hard over your ears, love," he shouted, gripping her tightly.

She did as he asked and held her breath, waiting for the impact.
'Surely this time we'll all be killed?
' Karen thought to herself.

There was no more time to worry as another explosion came, sending the helicopter spinning. Then the third missile hit, Karen had never been so scared. The whole aircraft was thrown about like a toy, metal screaming as it was ripped apart. She could also hear men shouting at each other, Hawkins held her tight, not allowing her to see what was happening. Suddenly there was a thud that shook the helicopter to the core; this was followed by two more, then silence.

"Out! Out! Out!" someone was shouting. "We're down."

Karen felt strong hands grasp her, dragging her out of the helicopter. "Run, kid, run for your life, she's going to blow," Chapman was shouting in her ear.

Karen didn't need any more urging, she just ran, or rather stumbled, over a soft field away from the helicopter. There was no mistaking the smell of fuel, even her clothes stank of it but she kept running. Suddenly, there was an explosion behind, throwing her to the ground, then another came, before silence. She lay there stunned, as if something had punched her hard in the back.

Then someone was at her side. "Come on, Karen, it's time to get out of here."

Looking up, Chapman was stood looking down at her. "Where's Hawkins?" she asked.

Chapman shook his head. "Sorry, love, he didn't get out. Killed instantly when we hit the ground, he'd not braced himself properly, I'm afraid."

Tears came to her eyes. The man had saved her life, holding her close, ignoring his own safety.

"Come on, Karen, we can do nothing, we've got to go. This place will be swarming with soldiers soon," he said, grasping her hand.

She stood silently looking around. There were bodies everywhere, none seemed to be moving. Chapman didn't let her dwell, propelling her away fast.

CHAPTER 18

When Sirec arrived at the crash site he was met by a man in army uniform.

The man shook his hand. "My name's Khan, I presume you are Sirec? Perhaps we should talk in my command vehicle," he suggested.

Sirec nodded and followed him to a large van with steps leading up to a door at the rear. Inside was a small glass-enclosed office with three people sat in front of telecommunications equipment, including television monitors. Beyond that was a meeting area with a large table and chairs. Khan offered Sirec a glass of whisky and they both took a seat at the table.

"Is Karen among the dead?" Sirec asked directly.

Khan shook his head. "No, Sirec, there was no girl among them. We do know, however, she was aboard. The pilot who was forced out, before the S.A.S. took over the ’copter, told us of a tall girl with darkish hair and blue eyes, answering to the name of Karen."

Sirec lit a cigarette. "So where is she? Surely, with half the bloody army in this area, you must have covered every inch by now?"

"We have and she's not turned up. We do have prisoners. We also, by the headcount, reckon there are two others either with her or on their own," Khan answered quietly.

Sirec stood and began pacing the little room. "I don't believe this. How can she avoid us so well? How did your people let her and the others escape? According to first reports they had them cornered and were holding them till you lot arrived?"

Khan shrugged. "Tell me about it. I understand it was the girl who captured the pilot with another S.A.S. officer taking the gunner. Apparently, with a gun at his head, the officer forced him to order his comrades to let the British go. Where she was when they initially landed and took the soldiers is anybody's guess, but she wasn't with the main group."

Sirec sighed. "Okay, let's see the prisoners. Perhaps we can find the pick-up point at least, before she and the others get there?"

They left the command truck and made their way across to another large lorry, inside were small cells. As Khan climbed the steps he glanced back at Sirec. "We have the Commander. The other two prisoners are on their way to hospital, they are pretty badly injured."

Sirec nodded, telling Khan to wait while he talked to him and then he went inside. He pulled a small stool from an empty cell and sat down opposite Farrow. "My name's Sirec, perhaps your people have talked of me?"

"Commander Farrow, Special Services," he replied.

Sirec offered him a cigarette and lit another for himself. "Bad business this, Farrow. You know you've cost me plenty. Not monetary loss you understand, but my reputation."

"Your reputation, why do you say that, after all, this is just a business risk for you?"

"I agree with you, Farrow, business risk with the warehouses yes, but you went too far and destroyed my home which was protected by guards who now I've got to punish, besides which, you also took my girl."

Farrow sighed. "Come off it, Sirec, the house and equipment were built with blood so both are at risk, but the girl? She was never your girl; the kid was abducted, brought to this country and auctioned like slaves in the past. No, Sirec, complain all you want about property but don't complain to me about the girl. She's a British subject and entitled to be protected, as far as possible, by the British Government."

Sirec said nothing for some time, just drawing gently on the cigarette. Eventually he looked back at Farrow. "So how did you find Karen's company? Was she, as everybody is telling me, tough, mature and sexy or was she immature, crying all the time and wanting to go home?" Sirec asked quietly as if he'd never heard Farrow's comment about Karen's abduction.

The Commander narrowed his eyes, not understanding the man in front of him. He'd expected a grilling for the location of the pick-up, but Sirec seemed to have no interest in that. However, if it meant giving the others and Karen more time to escape, he'd play along.

"You've never met her then?" Farrow asked.

Sirec shook his head. "No, that's why I'd like you to tell me about her."

Farrow drew on his cigarette as if thinking. "Karen's no fool; she's clever, resourceful and yes, tough, providing you keep in mind she's still very young."

"Tell me more," Sirec cut in.

He could see the interest in Sirec's face, before it was just indifferent, now he showed genuine interest. Had he perhaps some sort of infatuation for the girl? "What would you like to know about her?" Farrow asked.

"She was sexy, wasn't she?" Sirec persisted.

Farrow grinned. "She had a natural femininity about her and the younger soldiers in my command seemed to like that. I would have thought, after what she's been through, being sexy would, I believe, be the last thing on her mind. After all, she's had a bad time, caused in the main by you."

Sirec scowled. "It's not my fault what happened before she came to my house. Once there, Karen was treated with the utmost courtesy. I even had her taken shopping for new clothes and anything else she needed. So I find it offensive to say I've given her a bad time."

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Farrow was now convinced Sirec really did have an infatuation for Karen. "So you're telling me it wasn't you that had her sent over from England then?" Farrow asked.

Sirec shook his head. "No, I certainly didn't. I first heard about her from a contact who deals in girls. You see, in this war-torn country there's a shortage of eligible young girls. Many have been killed, not intentionally you understand, but by constant bombing and fighting. Children have taken the brunt of it, mothers have fled, others have died. So the upshot of it all is a steady stream of girls coming in from Asia, unwanted by poverty stricken parents. These girls are cheap and end up in brothels. European girls are rare, often forced here like Karen, but I'm digressing. When I first heard about Karen she was already on her way. Somebody in England, after a dispute, had paid for her passage. She'd been offered for sale and I received her photo. Unfortunately my European trip made it impossible for me to intercept her when she arrived. So I sent somebody to purchase her on my behalf."

Farrow shifted his position, trying to be indifferent to his questions. "So the Towkey isn't anything to do with you then?"

"The Towkey's owned by the Captain, I believe," Sirec began, "he, shall we say, is a man of dubious morals. Cargo, whatever it's made up of, has a price for transport. He's also a businessman and saw a value in Karen, making contact with my staff directly. The problem was a local buyer had already been contracted and the Captain couldn't, or wouldn't, do a deal without including him as well. It's understandable, as the Captain would have other girls for sale in the future and this agent would be able to place them." Sirec suddenly stopped and looked directly into Farrow's eyes. "Whatever you think of my morals in buying her, Farrow, you can be sure my intervention in this girl's life saved her from what could have been a fate worse than death for a girl like her."