Page 34

34

Luca

“I’m going to fucking kill them.” Asher spits as a sound like a wounded animal comes from Duchess. “Levi.”

“I’m not some sort of fucking damsel in distress!” she snaps, pushing Levi off her. “Are any of them alive?” Her face is as pale as her white suit. Looking at the state of the shipping container I wonder the exact same thing.

Bodies are tightly packed in, already in different states of decomposition, the skin greying, and bellies bloated. There is one thing they have in common.

“Women. Every single one of them,” Roman says pulling rubber gloves out of his pocket and handing me a pair.

“The fuck?” Black asks.

I shake my head. “Don’t ask.”

“Where did this come from?” Duchess demands. “How long have they been in there for? Transported like goods.”

She jumps down from the back of the truck bed, the ground splattering mud all over her clothes.

“I want answers. Now. Get me the fucking driver,” she snaps at one of the nearby workers who has the sense to run for the warehouse to get the poor bastard.

“Get Alek or Vlad on the phone,” I say, “this was a fucking set-up.”

“Hello,” Roman calls into the dark container. “Is anyone alive in there?” Pulling his phone out and turning on the torch he moves some of the bodies closest to the door gently out of the way.

Levi holds his arm in front of his nose. “No way anyone could still be alive in that.”

I follow Roman, turning on my own phone light and step into the shipping container, Levi behind me. The space is thankfully cold, making the putrid smell slightly more bareable. But even so, it takes everything in me to stop the gag.

The bodies have been laid out close to the main doors, a large white piece of tarpaulin hanging up, splitting the container in half.

Roman pauses in front of the white plastic and turns towards us holding his fingers to his lips and points to his ears. We all stand frozen, listening intently. A small sound comes from behind the white material. A sob.

“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Roman says softly. “You’re safe now.”

“We are going to move the curtain out the way, there are three of us here. All of us are men, but we won’t hurt you,” Levi says. “We want to help you.”

The stone-cold bastard has a heart after all. I guess everyone has their limits and human trafficking is his.

Roman reaches up and yanks at the material, the sound of ripping as it is pulled from the makeshift railing. “Fuck.” Roman’s voice is small, and it takes a moment to register the scene.

Survivors, a quick scan across their filthy, pale and malnourished faces suggests that there are about fifteen. All in different states of distress and illness.

Rome steps forward to crouch by a young woman’s body that is slouched against the wall, her eyes closed, her scantily covered body bruised. He places his fingers by her neck feeling for a pulse.

“Alive,” he says, glancing over.

“I think they all are, barely.” Levi says, scanning their terrified faces.

“Can you understand us?” I say, bending down but keeping my distance. The girls closest to the curtain shrink away, crawling towards the others that are huddled in the corner.

Their ages range from what I guess to be early teens to late twenties.

“I’d heard rumours that they were trafficking, but Jesus.” I rub my jaw, the rubber gloves creating friction against my stubble.

“This is fucked up,” Levi says.

“Get Duchess. Maybe seeing another woman might help,” Roman says, taking another step in, but just like with me they cower away.

As I exit the container, I hear her before I see her.

“Where did the shipment come from?” Duchess asks, her voice calm, firm and fucking terrifying. Her small hand grips a huge knife she’s holding at the jugular of the driver.

“Please,” he pleads. “I don’t know anything. I just unloaded the container from the ship and was told to bring it here. I swear, miss.”

“Fucking liar.” She yanks his hair pulling his head back exposing more of his neck.

“No, no, miss.”

“Where did they come from?”

“I d-don’t know.” The guy pisses himself, and I jump down from the truck.

“Are any of them alive?” she asks, turning her attention from the poor bastard sobbing on his knees to me.

“Some. They’re terrified, we think seeing you may help.”

She nods. I expect her to let the man go, but her hand moves quickly, severing the skin and jugular vein in one quick motion. Blood spurts down the man’s high-visibility vest and blue shirt. Onto the filthy, muddy floor, where it mixes with the dirt and water.

She nicked it perfectly, the blood spraying onto her white suit, splashing her face.

“Well, that’s not exactly going to fill them with a calm, warm feeling.” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“My hand slipped. You,” she points to a worker in the Black Logistics uniform as he walks past the dead man, completely ignoring it. “Get me an axe! I want to chop this Russian piece of shit up into tiny fucking pieces and force feed it to a Sokolov.”

Absolutely savage.

She reaches down and checks the man’s pockets and then around his neck, her fingers digging underneath the shirt and pulling out a necklace and phone.

“Fucking didn’t know, my tits. He’s one of Bromovitch’s men.” She yanks the necklace off and puts it in her pocket before passing me the phone. “I feel less guilty now. Piece of shit got what he deserved.”

She throws the knife on top of the man’s body, which is now face down in the mud, and wipes her hands on her trousers and starts to climb back up to the container. All still in her five-inch heels.

“They need medical attention,” Levi says, as he takes Duchess by the hand to pull her up before hopping down himself.

“Well, call the Covenant,” I say still staring at the phone in my hand. “I need to get this to Henry.”

“No can do,” Levi says wiping Duchess' face with the sleeve of his top, his focus solely on her.

“Who else is going to hack it?”

“I can’t call the Covenant.”

I pause, giving him my full attention, staring at him. “Of course.” I laugh, shaking my head. “They don’t know about this shipment. This was yours and Duchess’ move. What games are you playing, Cousin?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Duchess says from the top of the container unit. “Clear the warehouse, only trusted people stay. You can continue your pissing contest later, right now we need to help these women.”

Black appears next to her and climbs down, his tanned face grey.

“They aren’t here on the Covenant's bidding.” I fill Black in. “Which means we can’t use their resources.”

“So, who the fuck can help with this mess?” He asks.

“Call Layla,” Duchess suggests. “Tell her to bring fluids as a priority, anything else she needs I can arrange delivery.”

“Well, fuck me.” Duchess and Levi certainly have done their homework if they know about Layla and her medical experience. My head’s beginning to pound.

“I think a lesson has been learnt here today, Cousin.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“That the dildo of consequence rarely comes with lube.”