Abducted (Powell Book 2)

by Bill Ward

  Once Dimitry had driven off, Powell ordered a taxi to take him back to his hotel. Once back inside his room, Powell checked the drawers and cupboards. There was no doubt someone had been inside his room and searched his belongings. Fortunately, it was someone who didn’t have the experience to identify the small traps he had left, which showed his clothes had been moved.

  Was it Bogdan? Did that explain his earlier absence? Powell hoped it was just a case of Dimitry being cautious rather than having any concrete reasons for suspecting him. In any event, there was nothing incriminating in his room. Powell hoped Dimitry would be satisfied with the results of the search. He didn’t want to be walking into a trap when they met again for dinner.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Powell had dinner at Dimitry’s club with Bogdan and a couple of other heavyset types, who looked and sounded like they had more muscle than brains. Dimitry was a good host and provided excessive amounts of alcohol, which Powell pretended to drink heavily but in reality he was consuming a fraction of what the others drank.

  A couple of girls Powell hadn’t seen before, performed a strip for the table but Dimitry promised the entertainment he had organised for later would be far more exciting. Powell realised he could shortly be facing a difficult dilemma because he was not going to just stand by and witness the terrible abuse of any girl. If it cost him his life so be it but he would have surprise on his side and he intended to unleash a terrible fury, which he had been suppressing since his daughter’s death.

  About eleven, Dimitry announced it was time for the entertainment and he led the way to the back of the basement room where they had been eating, through a door and along a corridor to a small room where chairs were placed around the edge of the room, surrounding a small circular stage. To one side was a small bar. Powell had a horrible feeling it was something akin to a miniature arena, of the sort where, in Roman times, gladiatorial combat was provided as entertainment for the bloodthirsty masses.

  “Take a chair, Danny,” Dimitry suggested. “The fun will start in a few minutes. This is where we have our special parties. The room is sound proofed so we are never disturbed.”

  Powell realised the two heavies hadn’t joined them. Bogdan poured some drinks from behind the bar and handed one to Powell.

  The sound of the door opening made Powell turn around and he saw a young girl, probably no more than sixteen years old, pushed into the room followed by the two heavies. The girl’s hair was dishevelled and mascara smudged around her eyes where she had been crying. She stumbled as she received a further push from behind. Powell turned away shocked. How had they found Afina’s sister? She was supposed to be staying with a friend.

  Powell knew he had to act immediately. Once on stage and facing him, she would recognise him and in her desperate state might ruin everything. He walked quickly to the girl and put his arms around her, keeping his back between her and the others so they didn’t see her reaction, he leaned in close as if to kiss her.

  “Adriana, it’s me, Powell,” he said quietly. “Don’t say anything. I’ll get you out of here.”

  She blinked to clear her eyes and then seeing it was him, her eyes lit up with hope.

  “This is going to be fun,” Powell stated. “I don’t suppose you’d let me have her all to myself for a bit?”

  “Now you are being greedy,” Dimitry answered. “This girl is the sister of that damned Afina and we are all going to share in the fun. You gave me the idea Danny, when you talked about making special films. We are going to make a film here and send it to that bitch Afina as a present. She will learn what it means to fuck with me.”

  “On the stage,” Powell demanded. “You can start by dancing for us.” He thought it was the safest place for her to be for the next few minutes.

  “You can direct our film a little if you wish,” Dimitry said.

  “I would love that. How old is she?” Powell asked.

  “Sweet sixteen and though I doubt she is a virgin, I’m sure she won’t have experienced anything like we have planned for her,” Dimitry laughed.

  “Well I’ve heard some interesting stories about the size of your cock, Dimitry. I look forward to seeing it in action.”

  “Whichever woman said size doesn’t matter had never had my cock in her arse!” Dimitry laughed.

  Powell had been willing to sacrifice his own life, if he could be sure of killing Dimitry but seeing Adriana gave him a whole new responsibility. For Afina’s sake he had to save her sister. It was even more important than his revenge.

  Powell needed to improve the odds. He doubted his ability to take down all four men in the room. He pretended to search his pockets. “I would like my own personal film of this but I seem to have left my phone back where we ate. Could someone get it for me?”

  “Of course,” Dimitry responded quickly. He said something in Romanian and one of the heavies left the room.

  Powell downed his drink in one and walked towards the bar. “I think I’ll have another of those, please.”

  As he passed the remaining heavy, he delivered a vicious blow with the side of his left hand to the man’s throat. The others in the room seemed to freeze, not quite understanding what had just happened. In those seconds, Powell delivered a kick to Bogdan’s crutch, which caused him to bend double in agony. The follow up round house kick to the jaw sent him crashing to the floor unconscious.

  The heavy was gripping his throat, seeking some way to alleviate the pain and lack of oxygen entering his lungs but still managed a lunge towards Powell, who easily avoided the flailing fist. Powell used the heavy’s forward motion against him by using his foot to sweep away the man’s legs, leaving the man’s weight and gravity to send him to join Bogdan on the floor. Powell delivered a further kick to the side of the head and the man stopped moving.

  “Powell, he has a knife,” Adriana shouted.

  Powell turned quickly to face Dimitry, who had a large knife in his hand.

  Dimitry looked from Adriana to Powell with a quizzical look on his face. “So you two know each other? Why did she call you Powell?”

  “It’s my name. It was also the name of the young police officer you killed in Brighton. She was my daughter.”

  Dimitry took a few seconds to understand what he had heard then a small smile crossed his lips. “So Bogdan was right not to trust you. I assume you are responsible for the death of Victor and Stefan being in prison?” Dimitry was circling Powell, brandishing the large knife, looking for an opening.

  Powell realised Dimitry was also trying to buy time until the heavy returned to announce he couldn’t find the phone that was inside his jacket pocket all the time.

  Powell had to force the issue. “Enough of talking,” he said. “It is time for you to pay for your crimes.”

  Powell feinted to the left with his fist as if to throw a punch but in the same movement he kicked out with his right foot and landed a severe blow on Dimitry’s left kneecap, which caused him to immediately drop his knife and cry out in excruciating pain. Powell had herd the crack and knew his blow had disabled Dimitry.

  For the first time, Powell saw a look of fear on Dimitry’s face. There was perspiration on his forehead. Gone was his normal confidence. He tried to back away but his broken knee made it impossible for him to do anything except a slow shuffle.

  Dimitry shouted out something unintelligible in Romanian, which Powell reckoned was a cry for help. He had obviously forgotten his earlier proud announcement of how the room was completely sound proofed.

  Dimitry was having to use his one good leg to support all his weight so when Powell delivered a kick to the good knee it was even more devastating. Dimitry howled and fell backwards to the floor.

  Powell picked up the knife from the floor and advanced on Dimitry. “I genuinely wish I could spend more time with you but I need to get Adriana safely away from here so this will have to be quick.”

  Dimitry had his hands up in front of him in a useless attempt to defend himself. “I can m
ake you very rich,” he begged.

  “You honestly think I would take your money made from trafficking girls, in return for letting you live?” He was close enough to step on Dimitry’s knee and the resulting scream he emitted was terrible. “You have blighted the lives of too many young women. No amount of money can bring back my daughter.”

  Adriana moved close to where Dimitry lay and spat at him. “You fucking pig,” she swore.

  As Dimitry was distracted by a further rant in Romanian from Adriana, with a swift movement Powell buried the knife deep in Dimitry’s chest. There was no joy in Powell’s heart at ending a life, no great feeling of revenge, just the thought it was fitting that the man who had lived by the knife and stabbed Bella to death, should also die by the knife.

  Powell didn’t have long to dwell on the thought. A second later the door was opened and in walked the heavy. He stopped and surveyed the room as Powell withdrew the knife from Dimitry’s body and turned in his direction.

  “Do you understand some English?” Powell asked.

  “A little.”

  “You now have to decide whether you live or die today. If you feel any duty to your dead boss and come at me, you will end up like your friends.” He let his words sink in for a second then continued, “I am leaving now with the girl.”

  Powell took Adriana by the hand and led her towards the door. The heavy stood in the way but after a second’s thought moved aside and let them pass.

  Powell didn’t head back in the direction of the club but towards the door he had spotted in the other direction, at the end of the corridor. He pushed on the bar and they were out on a side street he didn’t recognise.

  “We need to hurry,” Powell encouraged, pulling on Adriana’s arm. “Just in case they have further backup nearby.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “As far away from here as possible.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Powell took a risk by going back to his hotel and checking out but reasoned with Dimitry dead, there would be no one to quickly take charge and come looking for him. He didn’t want to leave all his possessions behind if it wasn’t absolutely necessary and more importantly, Adriana needed the chance to clean herself up. With her smudged mascara and torn clothes she looked as if she had taken grunge style to a whole new level.

  While Powell packed, Adriana took the quickest ever shower. Without makeup she looked a lot fresher and younger. Powell provided a clean t-shirt and they headed downstairs to the taxi rank in front of the hotel.

  “Where is your passport?” Powell asked, once they were both sat in the back seat of the taxi.

  “Why do I need my passport? I am not going with you. I must stay and look after my mother.”

  “Adriana, your life is in danger. Next time I may not be here to save you.”

  “You think there will be a next time? Surely now Dimitry is dead it is finished?”

  “Probably but Bogdan and the others might come looking for you.”

  “I will find somewhere new to stay but I am not leaving.”

  “You are as obstinate as your big sister.”

  The taxi driver said something in Romanian. He sounded irritated.

  “He wants to know where we are going,” Adriana translated.

  “The airport.”

  “But I told you I will not go with you.”

  Powell raised his finger to his lips. “I understand but we still need the airport. Just trust me, I have an idea. Tell him we’re in a hurry.”

  Adriana said something to the driver and he accelerated away like a motor racing driver.

  The taxi driver insisted on talking to them in animated fashion during the journey, despite Powell not understanding anything. Every so often Adriana would say something short, which would be followed by another long tirade from the driver. Powell doubted he was missing much by not understanding the language.

  More than once, the driver would take both his hands off the steering wheel to emphasize a point and Powell began to worry it was a less than fifty, fifty chance whether they made it to the airport alive.

  The driver dropped them at departures and seemed very happy with his large tip. Powell knew it was a large enough tip that should someone ask questions he would remember the two fares who tipped so well.

  Powell led the way to arrivals, where he found a desk selling rooms in various hotels. He picked a hotel on the outskirts of the city and then they exited the airport like any new arrivals and took a taxi to the hotel.

  “If Dimitry’s friends pursue us, they will hopefully think we have caught a plane,” Powell explained.

  Ideally, he would have been on the first plane back to England but Adriana was not going to budge. This left him with no choice but to ensure Adriana’s safety before leaving.

  Once in their new hotel room, he had learned from Adriana that she was snatched off the street by two men and bundled into the back of a car, a couple of hours before her appearance at the club. The adult friend where she was staying had gone out for the evening and bored, Adriana had walked to the local shop to buy some snacks.

  The men had taken her back to the club and she had been locked in a small room.

  “Did they hurt you?” Powell asked.

  “Not really. One man slapped me to stop me screaming and they were pushing and shoving me but that was all… They didn’t rape me, if that is what you wanted to know? I heard Dimitry tell his men not to touch me. He said they would get their chance later.”

  It was what he had wanted to know and he was relieved. “I guess they were saving you for my entertainment.”

  Adriana started shaking like a leaf and burst into tears. “What would they have done to me if you hadn’t saved me?” She was suffering from delayed shock at the realisation of how much worse her ordeal could have been.

  Powell put his arms around her and comforted her. “You’re okay now,” he assured her. “You’re safe. Don’t dwell on what might have been. You were very brave and between us we taught them a lesson.”

  After a minute she was calm and he released her from the hug.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.”

  “There was a machine in the hall selling drinks, crisps, etcetera.” He rummaged in his pockets and found some coins. “Get yourself something. I’ll have a coke.”

  Powell called his friend Brian in England, who held a senior position in MI5, the British Security Service where Powell had also once worked. Brian was Bella’s godfather and a very old friend, who Powell had recently been asking for an increasing number of favours.

  “I need the name of someone in the Romanian police or security services we can trust, to help protect Adriana and sort out this mess,” he said, once he’d explained the night’s events.

  “Don’t ask much in the middle of the night, do you? Okay, I’ll get right on it and be back in touch as soon as possible.”

  “Thanks, Brian.”

  “Well done, by the way,” Brian added. “On getting rid of that animal Dimitry. A great many girls will be able to sleep safer as a result.”

  Next, Powell phoned Afina and informed her he was with Adriana and she was safe, although Afina had been unaware she was ever in danger. When Powell briefly recounted the night’s events to Afina and confirmed Dimitry would never again be a threat, he could hear the tears at the other end of the phone.

  The sisters spoke for a few minutes in Romanian and then Adriana handed the phone back to Powell.

  “I can never repay you for what you have done for me and my family,” Afina said.

  “Your thanks is sufficient payment. I did it for Bella and for all the girls ever trafficked by Dimitry and his evil friends.”

  Powell kept the call short as he was expecting to hear back from Brian.

  Adriana managed to get a few hours of sleep while Powell stayed awake to keep watch, just in case of danger. In the early hours of the morning he finally had a call from someone senior in Romania’s poli
ce, specifically targeted to combat sex trafficking. Arrangements were made for the officer to collect Adriana and escort her to a safe location. Powell would have preferred to keep Adriana close to him but Brian trusted this man and Powell trusted Brian.

  When the officer arrived, Powell provided a brief statement of the evening’s events. The officer had the best possible witness in Adriana and so had agreed Powell could fly back to England. Powell promised to be available to answer any further questions and to return to Romania if necessary.

  Back at his bar in Brighton, Powell did his best to assure Afina that her sister was truly safe, although she wasn’t easily convinced and seemed a little irked at Powell for not having brought Adriana with him, even if it meant dragging her screaming through customs.

  Powell genuinely believed that with the death of Dimitry, Afina and her family were no longer in danger. It was Dimitry who Afina had seen murder Bella and his personal vendetta ended with his death.

  A few hours later, Afina was able to speak with her sister and learned she was indeed safe, which led to her suggesting opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Powell went to the wine cellar and personally chose two bottles of an expensive pink Prosecco. He recalled Victor being locked in the metal inner cellar where the best wines were kept and smiled at the realisation the task he had set himself to revenge Bella, was at an end. Dimitry and Victor were both dead. Stefan was going to be spending a very long time behind bars. As he returned upstairs he felt more at peace than for a long time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Powell had arranged to meet Angela Bennett at her home on the outskirts of Kingston upon Thames. The drive from Brighton took just over an hour and he was grateful for his car’s navigation system, as he would otherwise have soon been lost in the town’s one way system. The home was a substantial detached house in a quiet road full of imposing and undoubtedly very expensive houses.

  The woman who opened the door was in her forties and attractive in an elegant sort of way, almost certainly revealing an upper class upbringing and money to spend on the best hairdressers and designer fashions. She was tall and slim with auburn hair cut in a bob. The overall look was feminine but despite the makeup, Powell could see the dark patches under the eyes, which suggested Angela Bennett wasn’t sleeping well.