by Bill Ward
“Then perhaps you better get the fuck out of here,” the major jerk replied.
Powell took a deep breath, he didn’t want this confrontation. His tone was more educational than threatening. “By the time I was twenty three, our government had taught me how to kill in more ways than you can begin to imagine. I have skills that make me lethal with or without weapons. Please just walk away.”
“There’s three of us,” the one who had done all the talking responded. The other two suddenly looked less confident. “And you’re beginning to piss me off.”
“If you don’t leave, I can’t be responsible for what happens. My daughter died here and right now I really don’t feel in the mood to take any more of your crap, so please just move on.”
It took a few seconds for what he had said to sink in. One of the men who hadn’t previously spoken tugged at the arm of the one who had been doing all the talking. “Let’s go. It was his daughter was killed.”
Powell could see the major jerk’s indecision. If he walked away he lost face with the other two. He was notionally the big man and he hadn’t become so by walking away from a fight. Powell was ready for what he knew was inevitable. He moved his left foot forward a little and moved his right foot to point sideways, unobtrusively adopting his fighting guard.
“Bollocks,” the major jerk said, and threw a punch.
Powell raised his rear leg, bent it back upon itself, pivoted and in a sudden but smooth motion snapped his leg forward, connecting with the man’s jaw. The Roundhouse kick sent the man sprawling backwards before he really knew what had hit him. Powell rounded on the other two, assuming the guard position and raising his hands in a fighting stance, ready to strike but neither seemed interested in getting further involved.
In his youth he would have put them all down just for the practise but he’d seen more than his share of blood and death for one lifetime. Such actions had long since been consigned to his past. Even his kickboxing was only used in the gym. It had been suggested he could fight competitively but he wasn’t interested. It had been a means to fight his demons and bring discipline back to his life not a new path to further violence.
“Take your friend and just go,” Powell instructed firmly
The two men helped their friend groggily to his feet and quickly moved away. Powell was surprised by the sound of hands clapping and looked around to notice for the first time that there were several people watching him, who had broken into applause for his actions. He decided it was time to make himself scarce and he walked away in the opposite direction to that which the three troublemakers had taken, smiling pleasantly at those who had been clapping. He noticed one man raise his camera as if to take a photo and quickly covered his face with his hand before increasing his pace. He didn’t want to draw any further attention to himself.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Powell awoke from the dream sweating profusely. Such dreams had become very rare over the last fifteen years but this was the second consecutive night he had endured the same nightmare. Last time the dreams were regular, he had resorted at first to whisky to send himself into bed in a stupor but when that didn’t work he turned to kick boxing, trying to tire himself out to such an extent he would sleep peacefully. The frequency of the dreams had gradually diminished but he wasn’t sure if it was down to the exercise or just passing of time, which he found made all memories, good and bad, fade.
They had come to his house in the middle of the night. There were three of them and they hadn’t bothered with subtlety. They blew open the front door and entered with automatic weapons. Powell had immediately reached for the gun in his bedside drawer and turned to tell Vanessa to call for help but she wasn’t there.
He heard the men running up the stairs and knew he had only seconds to act. He threw open the door of his bedroom and instantly fired, desperate to attract the attention of the intruders. He shot the first man he saw but the others were spraying automatic fire in every direction. He threw himself to a prone position and shot a second man.
The last man threw himself through the nearest door for safety, which happened to be Bella’s bedroom. Powell heard the scream and he rushed to the doorway. The man turned towards him and fired. Powell shot him as he was turning and caught him in the shoulder but as he fell he was still randomly firing. Two more bullets from Powell in the chest brought an end to the firing.
Powell rushed to Vanessa, who was lying in bed next to Bella. He called to her but she didn’t respond and all he could hear was Bella screaming. In his dream Vanessa turned to him with an accusing face and told him he was too late.
In reality, she hadn’t moved and a random bullet had shot her through the heart as she shielded Bella’s body from the gunman. Bella was desperately trying to wake her mother until Powell scooped her up in his arms and held her tight. He reached out with his hand and felt Vanessa’s neck for a pulse but there wasn’t one.
Powell had known who the men were and why they were breaking into his house intent on murder. What he didn’t understand was how they had found him. There had been a price on his head for six months, ever since he killed the youngest son of a senior Republican in Belfast. Word had been received from informers that the father would not rest until Powell and all his family were dead, so it had been decided he should return to the UK for a period of time, partly so he could protect his family but he had failed.
It had taken him three months to track down the man who had ordered the attack and he exacted a lingering revenge on him and his equally vile brother. Normally, it would have been easy to cover up but he had ignored a direct order not to pursue the man. It was 1994 and the IRA ceasefire had only been in force for one month, and the government didn’t want him putting it at risk because of a personal vendetta. But the service wasn’t married to Vanessa and hadn’t lost the love of their life. Nothing and certainly nobody could have deflected him from his purpose. Afterwards, the Service had cleaned up the mess because they didn’t want the IRA finding out a member of MI5 was responsible.
Although he came close to being thrown out of the Service and possibly even prosecuted, some compassion had been shown and he’d been allowed to retire early on the grounds he needed to bring up his daughter, which meant he kept his hard earned pension.
He’d left London, wanting to make a clean break with the past and settled in Brighton, cutting off all ties to the Service and his former life. His sole motivation became the need to protect Bella from any further possibility of danger. There was always the small possibility someone would come looking for revenge. The two dead brothers each had a son still alive, who might choose to ignore the ceasefire and go hunting for their fathers’ killer. Powell had left no evidence of his retribution but he would be high on any list of suspects if the cousins had an ounce of sense.
He had found himself ill equipped for any new career that would allow him to bring up his daughter, which didn’t involve some aspect of security or investigation work. Eventually, he made a list of everything he enjoyed doing and very high on the list was eating and drinking, so he purchased a small bar in Hove with an apartment over and built a good business. At first, he would eye up every unfamiliar face entering the bar, wondering if they were a threat but as the years passed so he reasoned did the danger. It didn’t stop him taking precautions but they had become habits so ingrained he didn’t even recognise his actions as out of the ordinary.
As Bella grew up, she helped with everything from washing up to serving behind the bar. It had been the location for numerous birthday parties, including her eighteenth. In a few months Bella would have been twenty one and not long after Powell was going to reach half a century. When he decided to name the bar after his baby daughter, he could never have foreseen how it would haunt him later in life to see her name in large lights every time he came to work.
He had immediately closed the bar after Bella’s death and would probably have never opened it again but he had realised after a couple of days it wasn’t fair
to all the staff, who didn’t deserve to lose their jobs, so he had quickly promoted his assistant manager Neil to manager, confident he was capable of keeping the business running.
The bar was the last thing on his mind though as he took a shower. He was sure Vanessa would stay in his dreams until this Dimitry was found. Time had been his friend once, easing the pain of guilt he felt for Vanessa’s death but now it was his enemy and he needed to move quickly before the trail went cold and Dimitry disappeared into the ether.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Afina was getting used to the routine of her new life. Some days were relatively quiet and others, especially the weekend, she could have as many as six men in one evening. Her record in twenty four hours stood at nine men but she was already beginning to lose count of how many men she had seen in total. Men would come as late as two in the morning after they had been out drinking and clubbing. If someone had told her a few weeks ago it was possible to do what she was now doing on a daily basis, she would have scoffed at the suggestion.
She had come to realise she actually preferred the older men. They were generally polite and often charming, treating her like they would a younger girlfriend, with friendliness and respect. Many of them were just lonely and wanted some affection. She was learning how to encourage them to chat, reducing the actual time spent having sex. She sent them all away with a smile on their face.
Some of the younger men turned up drunk and could be more difficult. They expected her to suck their cock for literally every minute of the hour for which they paid. No girl could do that without getting lockjaw and though in theory they could cum as many times as they wanted, she didn’t enjoy having to give a blowjob and them finishing after just five minutes, before trying to see how many times they could possibly cum in an hour to make sure they had their money’s worth.
From a short time ago, when she had only ever had sex with white Romanians, Afina had now experienced many different nationalities and colours of skin. She had learned men were generally alike despite these superficial differences. What they enjoyed when naked was not dictated by their colour or nationality. If she ever applied for a job at the United Nations she thought her multi-cultural experience would prove very useful.
Despite the negatives, Afina wasn’t complaining. She had sent her first money back home and been out one Monday evening with Emma and Becky to their favourite bar again, where she was indeed popular and as she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend she preferred the gay bar. She had zero wish to meet a boy, even a nice one, who might want to have sex with her. Sex was now her job. She had no wish to have sex on her time off.
Stefan entered her room. They were getting on okay because she was working well and already some customers were making return visits.
“I have a customer who wants a threesum and Mara is busy so I need you to work with a girl called Lia.”
It was the moment Afina had been dreading. Was she going to be expected to beat this Lia?
“Don’t worry, it isn’t Victor,” Stefan quickly added, sensing Afina’s reluctance. “It’s just a normal threesum.”
“Thank God,” Afina replied, relieved. In fact she was so relieved that for a second she forgot she had never had a threesum before and for her there was no such thing as a normal threesum.
“She’ll be here in five minutes,” Stefan continued. “The customer is due in ten. Please don’t discuss the details of our business arrangement with her. Your deal is a one off.”
Afina was intrigued by the idea of meeting a new girl. So far she knew only Mara, despite occasionally hearing the sounds of people moving about upstairs in other rooms. Stefan had forbidden her from venturing upstairs where Mara said there were a couple of unpleasant men minding the girls, who were just passing though. Afina had no intention of mentioning her arrangement with Stefan but she would like to know more about Lia and how she came to be working for Stefan.
Lia was quiet when she entered the apartment and very nervous. She was obviously uncomfortable around Stefan. She was wearing just her underwear so Afina thought it safe to assume she was another girl living in the building. She was a pretty girl with long dark hair and larger breasts than Afina. She had a young face and Afina thought she was probably only nineteen or twenty. Afina decided to take Lia straight to her bedroom to try and get acquainted a little better before the customer arrived.
“Relax Lia,” Afina said, having closed her bedroom door. “Everything will be okay.”
Lia said nothing.
“Have you had a threesum before?” Afina probed.
“No.”
“That makes two of us.”
Lia looked up in surprise. “You’ve never done this before?”
“No but I think it will be fun working with someone else for a change.”
“I don’t want to be here,” Lia blurted out. “I don’t want to be having sex with dirty old men. I want to go home.”
Afina was shocked by Lia’s sudden outburst. “Don’t say that,” Afina cautioned. “Stefan might hear you and you don’t want to make him mad.” She realised the irony of the situation and that she was saying the same things to Lia, she had not wanted to hear from Mara.
Was Lia in the same position she had been in such a short time ago? Afina’s emotions were confused. She had a natural instinct to help Lia but she had to put herself and her family first. She was getting on better with Stefan and life was improving. She wouldn’t do anything that put her family at risk.
“Please help me,” Lia begged.
Afina moved closer so there was no chance of being overheard. “First we must look after this customer. Then I promise I will be your friend and try to help you but we must be cautious. Do you have family at home?”
“Of course, I have my parents and my brother and sister.”
“If you try to escape they will threaten your family and you will end up in a worse position.”
“I would go to the police.”
“That will not save your family. Promise me you will do nothing until we have discussed this again.” Afina had no idea how she would be able to help Lia but she knew she must try. “Promise me,” she demanded.
“Okay, I promise.”
“Good. I will come and visit you soon but now you must smile and we must show this man a good time.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Afina had quite enjoyed the previous day’s threesum. The man had been pleasant and quite funny. Even Lia had relaxed a little although she needed to learn to smile more often. It had been good to work with another girl and made the time pass quicker. They had shared the sex duties and when he requested they play together, Afina had seen the look of horror on Lia’s face at the suggestion, so volunteered herself for the job of licking pussy. She didn’t think it could be rocket science, after all most men managed okay and she doubted they were born with any innate ability in their tongues. She tried to provide what she liked receiving but had no idea if she was doing it right as Lia uttered none of the usual sounds of appreciation.
They tried a few different positions and the man left very happy and promising to return, which was all Stefan wanted to hear. Afina suggested to Lia she needed to pretend a bit harder that she was actually enjoying herself even if she wasn’t. Again Afina found herself passing on the same advice she had received from Mara.
After a late breakfast of rolls with ham and cheese, Afina decided to bring up the subject of Lia with Stefan. “Can I go visit with Lia?” Afina asked. “She was a bit lonely and I think she would work better if she had a friend.”
“That would have been a good idea except Lia left last night,” Stefan replied.
Afina’s heart skipped a beat though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “Where did she go?”
“She has moved to another city. I have business interests all over the country so often the girls only spend a few days here before moving away to work elsewhere.”
Afina had only known Lia for an hour but she felt she had let her down
. She had promised to be her friend and now she was gone and probably more alone and scared than ever.
“I will go downstairs later and have a coffee with Mara instead then.”
“Sure.”
Afina washed the few dishes, had a shower, dressed and applied her makeup so she was ready to see a customer if one should arrive on short notice. She was troubled by Lia’s leaving and needed to talk to a friend. She couldn’t share anything about her life with Emma and Becky so that only left Mara.
Afina suggested they walk to the nearby Starbucks, saying she needed some fresh air and as she offered to but the coffees, Mara was happy to agree but they would have to get takeaways and bring them back to the apartment, in case a customer turned up. Mara called Stefan and let him know they would be gone about twenty minutes.
They walked slowly and Afina came straight to the point. “I had a threesum with a girl called Lia yesterday.”
“You did! Tell me about it.”
“Do you know Lia?”
“No but I told you, many girls only stay a few days.”
“Why is that?”
“Questions, questions! Always questions! Tell me about your threesum. Did you enjoy it?”
“I’ll give you all the gory details if you tell me why the girls spend so little time here and where they go.”
“Okay, I give up. Stefan brings them into the country and then he sells them to men who put them to work in different parts of the country.”
“He sells them!” Afina was shocked. Was she one of the girls who should have been sold if she hadn’t run away?
“Yes. I have overheard some conversations. I think he receives about fifty thousand pounds for each girl.”
“This is madness! They are human beings. You can’t just buy and sell people.”
“We are the lucky ones.”
“Why doesn’t he sell you?” Afina asked.