The People Traders (17 page)

He nodded pulling a packet of three from his pocket.

She gave a laugh. "Optimist, Hussein? Do you think you've the staying power for three then?" she mocked.

He grinned at her. "I have, but can you?" he teased.

Karen shrugged; the man was attractive in some ways, so she told him what he wanted to hear. "Oh yes, Hussein, you can believe it."

He dropped the packet on the dresser and left the room.

She sat for a few minutes unsure. Should she be doing this? What would they say to her? Would they disown her after seeing the photos? All these questions ran around in her head, but the alternative of being sold with perhaps little or no chance of escape, that terrified her. Then Karen suddenly made a decision, deciding if they put the phone down on her, at least she'd know for certain she was on her own. As it was there was still hope they'd still want her home, no matter how stupid she'd been. She began to push buttons, holding her breath as it began to ring.

"Hello, who's there?" a voice came on the phone. Karen's heart skipped a beat. "Daddy, it's me, Karen," she whispered as tears were beginning to run down her face.

The phone went quiet for a moment and Karen suddenly panicked that he'd hung up. "Daddy, it really is me, please say something, don't hang up," she stuttered.

"Karen, I'm sorry, darling, your voice has come as a shock, we thought you were dead. The car, it went over a cliff, nobody could have survived. Then the police came round a few days ago saying they'd had a call about you being on a boat, but we weren't to get our hopes up as they'd received a great many hoax calls about you and we were to play it down if the papers telephoned, until they'd made further enquiries."

Karen realised he was talking about Barry's call, which, as she feared, seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, but by her calling he would know she was alive and tell the police. "I wasn't in the car, Daddy. They took me on a ship; I've been raped and beaten, Daddy, now I'm to be sold as some sort of sex slave tomorrow. I don't want to be sold, I want to come home, please come and get me, I'm so scared."

Tears were streaming down her face, unable for a moment to speak; she could hear him calling her mother to come.

"Karen, you must get a hold of yourself, love. Now take a deep breath and tell me where you are. We'll be on the next flight out. You can be certain of that," he said with a voice of authority.

She pulled herself together and carefully read out the details on the paper. Then she gave him the name of the ship, including the names of everybody else she could think of.

"That's a good girl. Now please tell me again about what's happening tomorrow."

Again she told him everything she knew. Her father listened, stunned that Frank Whittle had done this to her. He was glad he was dead or he'd gladly have killed Frank himself.

By now her mother had arrived and grabbed the phone from him. "Karen, Karen, darling, is that really you?" she shouted, unable to control her emotions.

Karen took a deep breath, frightened of what her mum thought of her. "I'm sorry, Mummy, I was stupid to let that man trick me. I thought he loved me. Please believe me," Karen whispered.

"Tricked you, who tricked you?" she asked.

Suddenly it dawned on her Assam had lied, he'd never sent photos and never told her parents about Grant. It had all been a trick to make her believe she'd be disowned.

However, her mother didn't wait for a reply. "Why can't you come home, Karen?" her mother asked, unable to grasp what had happened to her daughter.

"They won't let me, Mum. You've got to come for me, tell them I'm still a child. Beg them to let me come home. I can't take much more," she began to cry, the emotion of talking to her family too much. She'd tried so hard to be strong, believing all the time her family thought her dead or a slut not worth bothering about, but this wasn't the case, they knew nothing of her affair. Now all she wanted was to go home. Then the bedroom door opened and Hussein stood watching her, pointing to his watch. She nodded slowly and he left the room.

"I've got to go now, Mum, people are waiting for me, this call has cost me dearly, believe me," she whispered. "Please come, don't let me down, you and Daddy are my last chance. I've nobody else."

Karen could hear her mother shouting for her to stay on, her father trying to assure her he'd come as she pressed the button and suddenly all that came back to her was the dial tone, then silence. She placed the telephone on the dresser and rinsed her face in the washbasin. She stood at the mirror brushing her long hair.

Hussein entered and came up behind her, gently slipping his hands round her body and grasping her breasts. "Are you ready now, Karen?"

She pushed his hands away, then turned slowly. He stood still, hardly daring to breath, expectancy for what was going to happen written all over his face. Karen took a deep breath, the doubt and lack of confidence in herself suddenly all gone. Her secret life with Grant still unknown and she owed this man nothing.

She shouted at a startled Hussein. "You bloody lot are all the same, wanting payment for everything. A bloody phone call, two bleeding quid at the most and I have to pay with my body." She pushed him to one side and made for the bed, falling back on it and staring straight at him. "Well come on then, what are you waiting for? I'm ready to make payment. If you're not man enough I'll even take my own knickers off," she screamed at him.

Hussein by now was in panic, the girl was hysterical and making it sound dirty and sordid.

"Well, Hussein, why are you still stood there? Perhaps I'll even like it if your dick's anything like your mouth. I'll tell you this though; you'd better kill me after, because if this Sirec is anything like everyone says he is, he'll not take too kindly to his girl being raped."

At that moment Rias stormed into the room. She looked at Karen and then Hussein. "What's going on, Hussein?" she demanded.

"That girl tricked me. I gave her the phone, the chance of freedom and she suddenly becomes hysterical."

Karen laughed at him. "Not quite the truth, Hussein. What was your condition, ten minutes on the phone in return for the rest of the night with my legs open? Wasn't that it? Well I've used the phone so I'm here on the bed ready to make the payment you demanded. But I won't lift a finger to help, or respond in any way. For me its rape, not love, you have no right to ask me to love you."

Hussein's mouth had dropped open, the girl was turning it all round, he wanted to kill her. But his sister cut in.

"That's enough!" she shouted. "Hussein, get out, you bring shame to this house. You bring home a girl, taken from her mother and father, bound for a life of slavery, maybe even death, and you want to add to this poor girl's misery. Can you not imagine what she's going through? You stood in front of me, less than two hours ago, and offered this child a night when she could lay down and sleep in safety. One night, Hussein, one night she had a chance to close her eyes believing no one would disturb her, but you couldn't even give her that, could you? I'm ashamed to even believe my brother could sink so low as to consider forcing a child to have sex with him, for a lousy phone call. What can she think of us?"

Hussein's face had changed, a look of shame spread quickly over it. He moved towards Karen, she shrunk back, pushing her act to the limit. He offered his hand. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. My sister's right, I've shamed her and at the same time I've shamed myself."

Karen grasped his hand and squeezed it gently. Her manner had changed, she'd won and now a few chosen words would make this man squirm. "It was partly me," she whispered. "I so desperately wanted to talk to my daddy, hear my mum's voice, tell them I wasn't dead, and to just know they'd not abandoned me. I may never have the chance again, so what would you have done, if you'd been me?"

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Sleep well, Karen, believe me, nobody will disturb you again in this house."

With that he moved to the door. Rias gave Karen a brief smile, well aware how neatly Karen had planned a way out of her promise. Just as she was closing the door Karen called her back. "Rias, is there a church round here?"

"What sort, Karen?"

She shrugged. "I'm really Catholic but any would do. You see, I went to a convent school, and religion is very important in my life, so in the last few days I've tried to pray when I was on the ship and at Saeed's house, but it was difficult. I'm not very good on my own and I'd begun to believe God had turned his back on me. So I'd like to pray, just once in church, ask him for forgiveness and to give me strength for the weeks ahead... That's all."

Rias could see no harm in taking her to the church and reached over, grasping her hand, "You'll come with me in the morning, Karen, we'll light a candle. God won't abandon you, test your strength maybe, but abandon you, no."

She stayed for a short time, allowing Karen to cry and held her, then when she was sure Karen was alright again, left the room, pulling the door gently closed.

Karen rubbed her eyes and sat for a few minutes, thinking about tomorrow and if her father really would come and get her. Then she stood and went over to the mirror, combing her hair. She felt good now, glad Hussein was gone. In some ways she'd actually resigned herself to letting him make love to her. Perhaps, she thought, it would make her feel more of a woman after Saeed's mother had messed about with her body. However, after talking to her family, what Hussein was intending seemed dirty and sordid. What possessed her to stand up to him she wasn't sure, but it worked and she was proud of herself. No longer tired, she decided to start her simple workout, doing a number of press-ups at first then deciding to carry on until she could go on no more. Still very fit, something kept telling her to keep it up, convinced in her mind she'd need the strength one day. Then finally exhausted, Karen returned to her bed and soon fell asleep with the knowledge people at last knew she was still alive, and more importantly, where she was. She was confident her mum and dad would shout to the world about her plight

CHAPTER 10

Garry Stafford shuffled uneasily in the confined officers' mess of the submarine. He'd been brought aboard with eleven other S.A.S. members three days ago after a long, uneventful flight from their home base in the UK. Now, after lounging about with nothing to do but eat and sleep, a meeting had at last been called.

His Commander was talking quietly to a man he'd never seen before at the front. His mate, Mark King, was concentrating on rolling a cigarette; at twenty-two, six foot three and a body toned by his obsession with weights, Garry was a man girls dreamed about and he had plenty of admirers. He'd turned his back on that to fulfill his ambition and join the Special Services.

However, the life he'd assumed they’d lead, going from one hot spot to another hadn't, until now, materialised. To be fair though, it wasn't for lack of trying; they'd done lots of training for assault but all the ones he'd trained for had been settled by negotiation.

"Gentlemen, may I have your attention," his Commander called above the hum of conversation in the room.

The room fell silent, save for the constant rumbling of the engines.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I'd like to hand you over now to Sir Giles Horton from the Home Office, Sir Giles."

Sir Giles stood and after thanking him, looked carefully round the room at each man in turn. "As you may be aware, the civil war in North Africa is showing no signs of abating. Our troops out there, although only peacekeepers, have come under fire more and more often and despite our vigilance, arms are being brought at an alarming rate into the area." He fell silent for a moment, at the same time opening a folder in front of him. "We believe, no, let me correct that diplomatic word, we know, that many of these weapons are surplus from the conflict in the northern territories of Israel. The main gun-runner of the area has never been busier and is reaping the benefits. Two such shippers have become known to us, so in an effort to slow this cargo we intend to take out their main supplier’s warehousing as a warning to others who believe this conflict to be a lucrative opportunity."

He fell silent while he removed large bulky envelopes from his bag, many in the room taking the opportunity to cough, caused by the now smoky atmosphere and poor air movement. "I have your sealed orders here. There will be three groups, each with specific targets. Commander Farrow will lead and coordinate the operation firsthand. We will be following the events in the temporary Operations Room set up on the carrier, Hermes. Good luck and I'll hand the floor over to your Commander, who'll brief you operationally."

With that, Sir Giles left the room quickly. Commander Farrow passed the sealed orders round to the appropriate groups. "Open the orders, gentlemen. We go at zero-four-thirty."

"Err, both Mark and myself don't have any orders, Sir," Garry said, dreading the Commander might be leaving them behind.

"No, you have a special assignment which we'll talk about later, however, you're part of my group, so familiarise yourselves with my team’s operation for now." Then he looked around the room. "You will notice we keep as one unit until we arrive at the village called Harable, only then splitting to your directed assignments. A sub will be off the coast in four days, or if delayed, six day's time. We must rendezvous back together to meet it, as the sub can only come once and can't return. Miss it and believe me, it's a long walk home."