Using the designated number, she’d phoned him to ask for his assistance, but he’d claimed he was too busy to talk. He’d suggested a coffee the next day. She should have told him she lived miles away, that she just had a quick question, but with his soft voice and the opportunity to visit unfamiliar territory, it had all seemed like an adventure. Life could be so dull in her quaint coastal town.
When they exited the café, he held her by the elbow and guided her down a dozen backstreets until they arrived at a beautiful expanse of sea. It took her breath away. The sun shone, the sky sparkled with the clearest blue, and the sea shimmered a silver grey.
He chatted as they strolled along the walkway—kind, friendly chatter about the lovely shops in town, how she must visit the Lanes and walk on Brighton Pier. Before she’d realized, he’d escorted her through electric gates where she faced a massive block of apartments.
“Where are we?”
“This is my office…well my home and my office. I own the block and live on the top three floors.
“Wow…it’s amazing.”
She surveyed the luxurious building, gazing from side to side and up toward the rooftop, appreciating its beautiful architecture stretching high into the blue sky.
Pressing buttons, he entered a code to unlock the imposing double doors which swung ajar. Taking her elbow, he steered her toward the empty reception area and took her up in the lift.
“It’s Saturday, so the place is empty, but how hard can it be to check a filing system? I can do it, I’m sure.”
She shouldn’t have come back with him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Porto Antonio Piazza,
San Remo, Italy
Crowds cooed with delight as the firework display crescendoed into a brilliant overlapping pattern of colours bursting across the night sky, lighting up the piazza with a palpable energy of sparkling excitement. Couples and families stood in awe, with their joyful, smiling faces tilted skywards, cheering at the heavens.
Amy was right. Jack should tell her everything, but losing her frightened him. As he followed her through the crowd, he sensed a strange presence nearby. An aromatic cigar wafted under his nose, or was it fumes from the fireworks? Sometimes his imagination got the better of him. He trotted along, trying to keep up with Amy, her head disappearing in the crowd.
Hidden in the dark shadows of a shop awning, a man watched Jack charge into the crowd. He kept a steady gaze on Jack’s activities as he lit his cigar, a bright orange orb illuminating his face. A knowing smile pulled across his scars as he shook his head.
“Ahhh, Maggie, dear Maggie… you don’t stand a chance. It’s going to be so easy,” he said as he threw the butt to the ground and scrunched it out with his black patent shoes, paying attention not to leave any sparks.
Out of nowhere, a rough hand pushed into his shoulder, backing him up against a shop window. Jack was in his face, large and powerful. The two men stared at each other; it took a moment for him to get his breath. He didn’t normally get caught; he was famed for his stalking skills.
“Whoa…watch the suit,” he barked, shifting his shoulder away from Jack’s hand. “It’s the only one I have.”
“Who are you? Why are you following us?” Jack didn’t have time for small talk.
“I’m just minding my own business, big boy. Now get off me, before I get angry.”
Jack pushed harder, leaning his full weight into the intruder, eliciting a groan.
“Careful. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“I repeat. Who are you? You’re obviously one of us, cos you can see me. Which Unit are you from, and why are you sneaking around?”
“You can ask your boss that.”
“Maggie?”
“Yes, the darling Maggie.”
“Let’s ask her, shall we?” Jack smashed him harder against the window and closed his hand around the man’s neck. He tapped his ear and Pyke answered.
“Bonjour mate, qu’est-ce que you want…” Pyke’s cheerful voice filled his head.
“Put Maggie on,” demanded Jack.
“Well, bonjour to you to, Pyke—”
“Get Maggie,” interrupted Jack.
“She’s busy, what’s up?”
“I’ve got a friend who wants to talk to her. Now, Pyke, put her on,” snarled Jack, not thrilled about containing the man this closely. He smelt bad; he smelt of death.
“Can I h….”
“Now!”
“OK, OK. Keep your knickers on.” Pyke connected the link to Maggie, waving at her across the room to urgently pick up.
“Jack,” she answered, curious as to why Jack would ask for her directly.
“I’ve a gentleman with me who says I’m to ask you why he’s following Amy and me.”
“You have?” Maggie faltered. “What’s his name?”
Jack tightened his grip, pushing the man harder against the glass. “What’s your name?”
“She’ll know,” he replied with a snickering smile.
Pyke, listening in, clicked Jack’s camera on for a visual. The man’s smug face filled the screen. Pyke swivelled the monitor for Maggie’s benefit. She drew in a sharp breath.
“Let him go.”
“What?”
“Let him go.”
“But…”
“Tell him to meet me in the usual place. I’ll sort this out, Jack. Just back off.”
“I don’t tru—”
“Now.” A loud click told Jack Maggie had cut the call.
He grimaced. He didn’t want to release this wanker, but orders were orders. He begrudgingly relaxed his grip.
“The boss says I am to release you. She wants to meet you in the usual place.”
He released the stalker’s neck.
“Told you.” The man grinned, brushing down his lapels. “Now skip off, little boy, and do your duty. Chop-chop.”
He walked off, looked back, and said with a sly voice. “And keep an eye on that girl of yours. She’s a beauty. We wouldn’t want to lose her again, now would we?”
“Fuck you.”
“Blah de blah, Jack, blah de bloody blah, mate.” His jeering laughter could be heard echoing across the square as he sauntered away.
Jack stared after him. Who the hell?
As the laughter continued, Jack couldn’t keep his anger in check, he took it out on the nearest window with a forceful punch. With a loud crack, it shattered into a thousand small pieces and tumbled to the ground. The unexpected noise attracted the crowd’s attention. Since no one witnessed a culprit anywhere close, they blamed it on a haywire firework.
Jack felt the tone buzz in his ear and punched his forefinger to his lobe.
“Yes?” he answered, expecting to get an icy blast from Maggie’s tongue, telling him to control his temper.
Instead, he heard the soft, low, imposing voice of his Commander resonating in his head.
“Jack, it’s Micael. We need to talk about your friend, David, David Howard.”
Jack looked up to the skies. Oh shit, what has he done now?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Porto Antonio Piazza,
San Remo, Italy
Amy walked on through the piazza while crowds of people enjoyed the fireworks. She recalled the childlike awe she used to feel for them—how she would stand with her mouth open, staring up into the sky, when time would stand still and nothing else mattered.
How little she knew then, how naive she was of the ways of the world, of the importance of the choices she’d make. She took way too much for granted, living in her own selfish bubble. Every moment, every person that crossed her path was special and had a reason for being there. Every action she took had a reaction, a consequence.
She shook her head. They should be able to warn Erthfolk about the value of their precious planet and their greedy destruction of it; how they should not be fighting each other for small pockets of land, but be fighting together to save their home, the planet. Why
were Erthfolk so small-minded, unable to see the bigger picture? She was that small-minded person once. What a fool.
She peered over her shoulder, over heads in the crowd, and was pleased to see she’d managed to lose Jack, which was a blessing. She needed space.
A fat, elderly man strode across her path, dragging a little boy by the hand who struggled to keep up. He couldn’t be much more than seven years old.
“Come on, little one. You know your mummy said you had to behave. And then you can have an ice cream.”
“But I don’t want an ice cream. I want my mum," he cried, fear in his eyes. Amy recognised that fear.
The man scurried down a side street, keeping the boy out of sight. He pressed a code into an entry phone and entered a dark building. Amy followed them in. A lift dropped them off in the basement. As doors opened, the smell of sweat, semen, and terror hit her nostrils.
They walked down a short corridor into a large black room with a low ceiling and dim lighting. It took a while for her eyes to adjust.
She stood at the doorway, taking in the sight. Six double mattresses lay pushed together in the middle of the floor. Sofas lined the walls, circling the mattresses. Near naked men lounged on the seating, watching the show in front of them.
Naked young boys huddled on the mattresses, some sitting, some crying, some lying face down into the floor, being taken by perspiring fat sloths, some kneeling in front of males, gagging with cocks in their mouths.
Amy stumbled back against the wall with shock, bile raised to her throat. She started to shake. Memories from her childhood flooded back, reinstating the fear and powerlessness she’d felt. She looked at the men’s sick, smiling faces and saw Dick Parker in them.
Her first reaction was to go in all guns blazing, massacre the lot of them. But this was bigger than her. She would not get away with it. A room full of naked dead men with their cocks cut off would be difficult to explain away. And she had to think of the children.
She needed to keep calm, act like a grown up, and get help, which was hard for her to do. It took all her strength to remain composed and think clearly. Where was Jack when she needed him?
She put a call into Pyke.
“Bonjour, madam.” Pyke’s cheery voice gave her strength.
“Put your camera on now!” It was the second time within minutes Pyke had had a panic call. What’s going on this evening?
“OK, OK. Please be nice.” He flicked the camera on.
The room’s image filled his screen. As the scene registered with all its darkness, he caught his breath. He could hear the panic in Amy’s breathing.
He searched across the office for Maggie, but saw her exiting out the door. He would have to manage this alone.
“May I have authority to sort these guys out please, Pyke? Now!” Amy shouted, agitated.
“Amy, yes, OK. I know it’s hard, but work with me on this, OK?”
Silence.
“Amy?” He could hear her breathing building, louder and faster.
“Amy, do as I say. We will sort this properly, OK?”
Silence.
“Amy, I need you to concentrate. Walk around the room close enough to capture the men’s faces and let me scan their headshots. Flick through their pockets for any ID, car keys, anything. The more info we have, the more ripple effect we can cause in closing them down.”
Silence.
Amy started to move forward, slowly controlled. Pyke didn’t trust she was listening.
“Amy, I need you to forget about that jerk, Dick Parker, and work with me to get a few dozen men like him in jail. Are you listening?”
She walked toward the nearest male. He was holding a boy’s face as he fucked it.
“I’ll put an anonymous call into the local police station,” Pyke shouted at her. “Is Jack with you?”
“I’m on my own. Can I shoot these guys in the balls, please?”
“No, Amy, you can’t. I’ll send help. We must do this properly. You can’t be selfish here. You start hurting one, the others will run. We want to catch all of them.”
“The fucking bastards,” she spat.
“Amy,” Pyke spoke low and slow, trying to get through to her. “If we are cool, we may be able to save many others, and these guys may lead us to Parker. Are you listening?”
Silence.
“Amy!” he shouted.
“OK, OK,” she sighed, anxiously running her hand through her hair, taking deep breaths. In and out, in and out.
She leaned in close to the nearby male. “Get a good look at this bastard’s face, Pyke.” She pushed her face into the pervert’s as he enjoyed the sex act. “I hope you like prison food, you dickhead, and taking it up the arse, cos you’re so gonna get some where you’re going, mate,” she hissed. The man didn’t feel the spittle from her lips, as he threw his head back with pleasure.
Amy obeyed Pyke’s instructions, reluctantly. It killed her to watch what was happening to these poor children and do nothing. Her eyes pooled with tears, her teeth and fists clenched, as she walked slowly around the room. Her camera on, giving Pyke eyes. She carefully flicked through wallets in the clothes strewn across sofas, getting close-ups of the male’s faces, resisting the urge to smash them in the face.
As she walked past the boys, she gently touched each of their heads, trying to send a small hint help was on its way, that they were not alone.
As she passed the vile rutting males, she nudged here and poked there, upsetting their libidos with subtle movements to ruin their pleasure. She slammed a boy’s jaw, causing his teeth to tear into the abuser’s cock. The fat bastard cried out in pain. She shunted another’s body so his cock slid out of a boy’s throat on a backward thrust, sending the aging pig toppling over on the forward thrust.
She looked up and saw Mara walking towards her.
“Looks like we’re working together,” Mara announced.
Unfazed by the cruelty around her, Mara picked up a few mobile phones and took pictures of the room. “Pyke says it’ll make good evidence later.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I sent her,” Pyke’s voice shouted into her ear. “Concentrate, Amy. Police are on their way.”
“What do you want me to do?” Mara asked Amy.
“Take over; finish scanning faces and ID’s.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Just do it, Mara, for fuck’s sake.”
“Amy?” Pyke questioned nervously.
“It’s OK. I’m cool.”
Amy protruded her arms out over the mess, over frightened, whimpering children being stripped of their innocence, to gently grip the hands of two naked young boys, leading them away from their abusers and slowly toward the back of the room where piles of children’s clothes lay in rows. The men stood staring aghast. The boys started to pick up their clothes and get dressed. Amy returned to the mattresses and collected two more boys.
Their abusers stood with mouths open and hands on their hips, not understanding why the boys were leaving. They hadn’t finished with them. They demanded the boys return.
Two more boys walked away. The men started shouting, waving hands in the air and lunging at the passing boys. The children ducked and dived out of reach, ignoring the men, warier of the unknown presence guiding them away from the mattresses than of the screaming, demanding men. They trusted the strange power and allowed themselves to be escorted to the back of the room.
Amy collected more and more children. The abusers became furious. Some ran over to the boys, trying to stop them. In their tussle to get to the children, Amy kicked over a bottle of baby oil to create a greasy liquid oozing all over the floor, but she wasn’t satisfied. She stamped on the container, causing the oil to squirt out across the floor and onto the men’s bare feet. The men slid and slipped, thwarting their attempt to claim the children.
Amy extended her foot to trip a few more of the bastards causing them to knock into each other. She elbowed their fa
ces, kicked them in the balls, and slammed them to the ground. Mara leaned against a wall, arms crossed, amused.
The boys gawked at the scuffle, wondering why the men were beating each other up. One of the boys noticed the exit door stood ajar and hurried the other boys to get dressed.
Finally, the doors threw open and Police raided the den, rushing in but halting just before their shoes engaged the slick liquid.
Mara and Amy walked away, confident the children were in safe hands and the evil kiddie-fiddling bastards would soon find themselves in the hell they deserved, justice served.
“Nice work, girls. See you back at base.” Pyke clicked off the link.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As police and ambulance crews rushed passed, leaving flashing blue lights behind them, Amy and Mara walked back across the piazza. Mara’s stiletto heels clicking on stone cobbles.
“You could’ve helped a bit more back there. What? You don’t like to get your hands dirty?” spat Amy.
“You were handling it. No need for both of us to break a sweat.”
“Why are you even here?”
“You know Jack cannot be trusted.”
“Yeah, yeah…whatever.”
“It’s true.”
“So why do you want him then?”
“I love him and always will.”
“It’s none of my business anyway. I’m leaving the Unit.”
“He will only follow you. He has always followed you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has always wanted you, from the start. Don’t you know?”
“How do you know?”
“I was his wife; I killed him because of it,” Mara admitted.
Amy was stunned, especially to hear Mara speak as if she were talking about shopping.
“Does he know you killed him?”
“Oh yes. He wanted it, wanted to be able to be by your side always…watch you from afar.”
“You are mad.”
“Ask him.”
“If you killed him, why are you here? You’re a murderer, and I didn’t think murderers could do the deal.”
“I told you. I know people in the right circles. Blackmail is a powerful tool, in whatever world you’re in.”
The Deal (The Fallen Angel Series Book 1) Page 14