Relentless

by Brent Towns

“You and a few of the other girls will be entertaining some very important people tonight.”

  “What if I refuse?”

  “You won’t,” the woman said, sounding more than a little confident. “We have no use for girls who do not work.”

  Cara knew what her words meant and remained silent. Just stay alive.

  She’d heard what had happened in the Ukraine. About the attack by foreign soldiers. About the capture of Kazan and the nuke. It made her wonder whether they’d been there watching while she’d been sold, and if so, why hadn’t they rescued her or the other girls?

  Cara was escorted to the shower where she washed her body and her hair, then wrapped herself in a towel as a final protest, before donning the dress when the guard threatened to dress her. Her hair and makeup were done for her like she was a movie star, and once she was ready, she almost didn’t recognize the person in the mirror.

  “There, Elettra will be happy with that,” the makeup girl said.

  “Who is Elettra?” asked Cara.

  “The woman.”

  Before she could answer, the woman with the dark hair appeared again. Elettra nodded with satisfaction and said, “Good. Much better. The clients will be most satisfied with the offering tonight. Here take this.”

  Cara looked down at the outstretched hand and saw a little yellow pill. “What’s that?”

  “Something to make the night go a little smoother.”

  “I don’t want it,” Cara said, remembering the last time she’d been drugged in Pripyat.

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  Cara took the pill and placed it into her mouth, a defiant expression on her face. The woman ignored it and nodded. “Good. We leave in twenty minutes.”

  Then she turned and left. The girl beside Cara said, “That is Elettra.”

  Shaking her head, Cara spat out the pill and asked, “What is with those tits? They look like they belong on some kind of over-sized cow.”

  The girl laughed, trying to hide her smile behind her hand. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

  “It’s OK. I’ll hit her in the chest and deflate her assets.”

  Another laugh.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Amy.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “South Africa. Cape Town.”

  “How did you get here?”

  Amy hesitated before saying, “They took me from Switzerland. I had stopped over for a few days, and I was drugged in a nightclub.”

  Cara nodded. It was the same song played on a different banjo. “How long ago was that?”

  She shrugged. “A couple of months, I think. I’m not sure. They keep us drugged at different times, so it makes it hard to keep track. I’d better go and get ready.”

  “Are you going to this thing too?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately.”

  “Man, can you believe the set of wheels we have?” Axe almost howled with excitement.

  “What were the last words the general said before we left, Axe?” Kane asked him.

  “Bring it back in one piece.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you have to admit, man, this thing is fucking hot.”

  For some reason, one which the Team Reaper commander couldn’t understand, Thurston had seen fit to allow them to use an Audi TT RS. A brute of a vehicle, its impressive power capable of hurling it from a standing start to a hundred in a shade under four seconds.

  Axe suddenly jammed the brakes on to avoid being T-boned by another vehicle.

  “Fuck, Axe. Watch what you’re doing,” Kane growled.

  “Sorry, Reaper. It’s what it does to me. This thing is exciting. It was meant to be driven fast.”

  “Just treat it like you would a woman, Reaper Four,” Thurston’s voice came over the comms.

  “Screw that,” Kane snapped. “We’ll be upside down in the bushes somewhere.”

  “Hey, are you saying I don’t know how to treat a woman?”

  “Hell, Axe. Just forget it. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “I do,” said Reynolds coming in on the conversation. “I’m sure Mr. Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am comes from Calgary. Spurs and all.”

  “Now I am hurt.”

  “All right, people,” Ferrero said, cutting them off. “Concentrate. The target building is around the next corner.”

  “Hey, Luis,” Axe chortled. “Good to hear you back. Have a good holiday?”

  “Obviously, it wasn’t long enough. Turn left at the next intersection.”

  At night, Milan was an amazing sight of stunning architecture beautifully lit up, and full of activity; tourists and locals alike. Axe took the turn, the Audi’s tires rumbling across steel streetcar tracks. He eased to the curb across from the brothel. A neon sign out front identified it as, Casa di Piacere, or House of Pleasure.

  Kane said, “Zero, we’re outside the target.”

  “Copy, Reaper One. We have a visual.”

  The best part about operating in Italy was the Aviano air base. Aviano was providing them with a UAV which would be overhead throughout the mission, even if it was unarmed.

  “Reaper One? Bravo Three. We’ve got your back. The bird gives us a good area of observation. Just don’t find any tanks to play with.”

  “Good to have you back, Master Sergeant.”

  Kane and Axe climbed from the Audi and started across the cobblestone street, all too aware that they were both unarmed. As they approached the entrance, they saw two burly men standing security on the door. Kane said, “I have two men on the door as security. My bet is that they’re armed.”

  “Copy, Reaper One,” acknowledged Ferrero. “Two armed tangos at the front door.”

  The pair stepped up onto the sidewalk and were about to walk through the door when one of the men blocked their path. He said something in Italian that sounded like a train wreck of words all jumbled together. Axe said, “We’re going in there.”

  The man smiled and nodded. “American. What you want here?”

  Axe raised his eyebrows and snapped, “What the fuck you think I want, Mussolini? To stick my dick in your –”

  “All right just calm down,” Kane intervened. He reached into his pocket and handed over a hundred Euros. “We just want to have a good time.”

  The security guard took the money and then made a display of opening his coat to reveal the butt of a handgun sticking out of a shoulder holster. “I watch you, American.”

  Axe smiled. “Please do, you might just learn something.”

  The man stepped aside, allowing them access to the establishment. Once inside, the first thing Kane noticed was the color of the carpet; red like in a C-grade seventies, porn film. The ornate lamps on the wall were set to dim, and the whole décor bespoke trash. “I thought these things were meant to be high-class?”

  “They’re called high class for the girls and clientele they attract. But really, a brothel is a brothel,” Ferrero said.

  “Hey, Reaper, get a look at that.”

  Kane looked in the direction Axe was pointing and saw the woman behind the counter.

  “Is that her?”

  Kane nodded. “Zero we have eyes on Elettra Bellandi.”

  “Copy, Reaper One.”

  They walked over to the counter, and Elettra looked up from what she was doing. Like the guard, she spoke in Italian. Kane shrugged. “Sorry, we don’t speak Italian.”

  She smiled. “I said, are you a very big man all over?”

  Axe chuckled. “They don’t call him Horse for nothing, Ma’am.”

  Elettra’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Really, Mr. Horse. Maybe Elettra could take care of you personally. I like to ride horses.”

  “Oh, please,” Kane heard Thurston say, and could imagine her rolling her eyes.

  Kane smiled and couldn’t help but say, “That is interesting, Ma’am. I like breaking fillies.”

  “I’m going to throw up,” came through his earpiece.

  The former
porn starlet thrust out her large breasts and said, “I can assure you that I’m unbreakable.”

  “Damn it, Reaper,” Thurston said through his comms. “Don’t encourage her.”

  Before he could reply to Elettra’s obvious challenge, the phone on the desk rang. She scowled, resenting the interruption. Kane glanced at Axe who was openly ogling the woman’s half-exposed breasts. He shook his head and heard the tone of Elettra’s voice rise. Then her free hand started to wave around angrily, her long nails flashing. She slammed the handset down and snarled, “Cazzo di stronzo. I am sorry, Bambino, I must attend to something. But I can assure you that all of the girls who work here are most excellent.”

  Kane made a sorrowful face and said, “That’s such a shame. Maybe before I leave Milan, I can come back to visit, yes?”

  “Definitely, Signore,” Elettra said with a hungry smile. “For now, if you go up the stairs, there will be someone there to meet you.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Anytime, Cowboy.”

  They were about to turn away when an armed man appeared from a back room. He spoke quietly to Elettra who nodded, then followed him out the back.

  “Zero, did you get any of that?”

  “More than I’d like to, Reaper One.”

  “The last conversation, Zero.”

  “Oh, you mean that. Something about an issue with one of the girls at a hotel or some such.”

  “Copy. We’re going upstairs.”

  They were met on the landing by two young ladies wearing sheer lingerie which would have been their first observation were it not for the guard with a Steyr AUG Bullpup standing in the corner. “He looks friendly,” Axe commented.

  “Doesn’t he just.”

  The escorts giggled, smiled coyly and took them by the hand. They led them along a hallway furnished with more of the same red carpet as downstairs. Kane took time to note the second guard at the far end. As they passed one of the closed doors, loud moans could be heard from within. They kept on until they reached twin doors side-by-side. Each girl backed into her own room, leading them each by both hands, closing the doors behind them.

  Chapter 12

  Il Magnifico Hotel

  Milan

  Cara sat in the corner of the ornately-decorated suite and watched as paramedics worked on Addo Chedjou, the Cameroonian ambassador. After everything that she had been through so far, Cara knew that it was bound to happen, but had no idea that when it did, just how violently she would react.

  So far, she could work out that the ambassador had a broken jaw, a fractured arm, internal bleeding, and a possible skull fracture from the heavy statue she’d used to hit him with. His bodyguards were both dead.

  The man had been a leech, an animal without an appetite for the word no. He’d paid a hefty sum for the woman and meant to get his money’s worth.

  The evening had started out with dinner at the hotel for any number of African dignitaries from various countries. They had all dined on traditional Italian fare in a large conference hall lavishly decorated with stunning gilding and ornate plaster cornices. Expensive paintings adorned the walls and soft orchestral music played in the background.

  The first hint of trouble had come in the form of Chedjou’s hand on Cara’s thigh below the table. She’d brushed it off forcefully, so there could be no mistaking her response, and the dignitary had turned to look at her. He’d given her a quizzical look and tried again.

  Having none of it, Cara had repeated her reaction, more deliberately this time, but bent his finger back until he’d grimaced with pain. “What are you doing?” he’d hissed.

  Cara had leaned in close and whispered so only he could hear. “Do it again, and I’ll really fucking hurt you.”

  The confused and galled expression on his face spoke volumes and Cara knew it wouldn’t end there. Not by a long sight. She’d finished the rest of her meal and been escorted to the suite upstairs. Once inside the room, Cara was instantly nervous but remained vigilant. One of the bodyguards had come into the suite with them and went to check the other rooms. Cara only had a limited time to prepare, and just as she turned around, Chedjou had hit her a stunning blow up the side of the head.

  Cara was staggered but refused to go down. The fire in Chedjou’s eyes told her she was in trouble; however, she had been ready for it. As he’d closed on her, she had scooped up a statue and swung it at the dignitary.

  Chedjou had held up his right arm to block the blow, and the statue had made heavy contact with it. He’d yelped with pain, drawing the attention of one of his bodyguards. The man had burst into the room and seen what was happening. He’d reached inside his coat to pull his sidearm, but Cara had been too quick. She’d swung the statue again, caving in the side of his head with a sickening thud.

  After he’d dropped at her feet, she’d returned her attention to Chedjou. The man had stumbled backward, babbling with fear. Cara, however, was leaving nothing behind. The anger and frustration of recent events boiled over, and the statue once more crashed down in a devastating arc. This time the Cameroonian’s jaw broke, although shattered was probably a more appropriate word for it. It rose again then smashed into Chedjou’s head. The man dropped like a pole-axed steer and lay there shaking violently.

  The door to the room crashed back, and the guard from the hall appeared in the opening. Cara noticed the gun in his hand and immediately dived for the fallen guard’s weapon which had spilled free when she’d struck him.

  Scooping it up, she brought the weapon into line. God, she hoped it was ready to fire.

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Then nothing.

  The guard lurched violently with each bullet strike, blood flying in a broad spray across walls, the door, and the carpet. The man had dropped to the floor and never moved.

  Breathing hard, Cara stared at the three fallen men and sat down. She tossed the empty weapon on the floor and waited for the police to come.

  Elettra appeared at the door and walked into the room, accompanied by her personal bodyguard. An Italian agente di polizia stepped across to block her progress. She signaled to her bodyguard to fetch Cara while she dealt with the problem.

  The bodyguard crossed to Cara who looked up at him with a blank stare. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

  Coming to her feet, she began to walk in front of her escort. As she stepped past Elettra, the woman turned to face her, eyes flaring. “So, you like to hit people? My husband will have just the place for you. Get her in the car.”

  Casa di Piacere

  Milan

  “You not like me?” the blonde girl asked Kane as she ran a deft hand across his chest, finding his nipple beneath his shirt.

  “What’s your name?” Kane asked her.

  “Kajsa.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “From Sweden.”

  “Are you here of your own free will?”

  Her eyes gave away the lie before she even spoke it. “Of course.”

  Kane let it slide and then heard the sounds from the room next door and rolled his eyes. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Are there any new girls?”

  “I’ve seen no one.”

  “Are you sure? Her name is Cara.”

  “No.”

  “Do you know how I can find out?”

  Kajsa hesitated, and Kane said, “I can get you out of here.”

  “No one can do that,” the girl’s eyes dropped to the floor, full of resignation.

  “Let me prove it to you,” he said, reaching up to his ear. He took the earbud out and placed it in her ear. “Say hello.”

  “Hello?”

  “Ma’am, my name is Luis Ferrero. Mr. Kane is my man. What he says is true.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she took the bud from her ear, looking at it briefly before handing it back. She hesitated before saying, “There is a book. If she is here, her name will be on it.”

  “Where do they keep it?”

  “In t
he office downstairs.”

  “OK. Wait here for me.”

  He exited the room and tried the door to the one next door. It opened, and he found Axe under the covers with the other girl. “Get the hell up. I knew I shouldn’t have brought you along.”

  The ex-recon marine threw back the covers, revealing that he was still fully clothed as was the girl. “We was just getting acquainted.”

  “We’re leaving.”

  “So soon?”

  “Yes. Follow me.”

  Axe gave the woman a peck on the cheek and said, “See you next time.”

  Once they were out in the hall, Axe asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Downstairs.”

  He opened the room door where he’d left Kajsa and said, “Come on.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. You go. Just tell someone about us.”

  “Reaper, there’s a team on the way to get the girls out.”

  “Roger that,” he acknowledged. Then to the girl, he said, “Hang in there. Help is on the way.”

  “Reaper One, I think you may have a problem.”

  “What is it, Bravo Three?” Kane asked quietly as they walked along the hall.

  “There are three SUVs closing in on your position.”

  “How the hell did they know we’re here?”

  “I don’t think they do. I think it’s Amando Bellandi paying his wife a visit. They’ll be with you in two minutes.”

  “Roger. Zero, permission to go off book?”

  “How off book, Reaper One?”

  “We may leave a small footprint.”

  “As long as it is only small, Reaper One, and by small, I am talking minuscule.”

  Once they were downstairs, Kane had Axe keep an eye out for the guard at the top while he walked over to the counter. This time it was attended by a young red-headed lady who smiled and said, “I hope you enjoyed your experience?”

  “Not really,” he answered matter-of-factly.

  An alarmed expression flitted across her face. “I’m sorry; maybe there is something I can do to help?”

  Kane stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “Maybe you can make the experience more pleasurable.”