When he arrived at the ambassador’s residence, his team was already in place.Dressed for the occasion in black clothes that allowed freedom of movement, night goggles, thin gloves, and state-of-the-art communications equipment, their faces smeared with camouflage paint, they looked dangerous.Looks were not deceiving.
He arrived at the front entrance of the embassy in his Lamborghini, dressed as maybe he should have been dressed for his wedding in a smart jacket, crisp shirt, and tailored pants.His shoes were handcrafted to his own design in soft yet sturdy glove suede.The shock-absorbent rubber soles allowed him to move swiftly with good grip, or jump from a height and land softly, while the unobtrusive steel toecaps hidden beneath the luxury construction could take out a knee if required.As the ambassador’s son-in-law, he would use the front door with the excuse that he was picking up a few things for Karolina, when his actual mission was to check out security and then inform his team through a hidden mic.
For some people, the type of life they led had no bearing on their personality, and so it was with Karolina.With zero reason to be the eternal optimist, she fought hard every day to retain just a little bit of optimism, whatever happened.How else did people deal with the black clouds in life and keep hope alive?That accounted for the fact that on her wedding night, she was bathed and fragrant, dressed in her birthday suit for lack of a glamorous trousseau, tucked up and warm beneath what seemed to be acres of fluffy white duvet.Conor had said he wouldn’t trouble her in the sexual sense, but he had promised to try and come by.It didn’t hurt to be ready in case he remembered.
And wait she did.
Well, you never know—except she did.He wasn’t coming.And she had needs and longings like anyone else.She was a bride minus a husband.Eleven o’clock had come and gone, and now the clock was striking midnight.Was she going to lie here fretting until morning?
Slipping out of bed, she padded to her dressing room to discover which of her clothes had made the transfer from the embassy.Luck was on her side in that, at least.Black leggings, black top, black trainers and socks, with her hair neatly tied up, and she was ready.After throwing on a warm jacket, she crept out of the room.
The door wasn’t locked, and there seemed to be no one around.Letting herself quietly out of the front door, she hailed a cab to take her to the embassy in the hope of finding out about the next delivery, and possibly even to retrieve her precious rag doll.
The driver dropped her on a quiet country lane, as requested.It was only when she stepped out of the cab that she discovered that her years of imprisonment had taken their toll.That eternal optimism she prided herself on had taken a battering.Her pulse was racing, and her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears.If entering Conor’s unknown world had been a challenge, returning to the site of her imprisonment was much worse.She had never felt such a sharp stab of fear, and only the thought of her father’s captives drove her on.
Keeping to the shadows, she slipped around the corner of the high brick wall.The embassy was usually covered by armed guards and cameras, but tonight there was no sign of manpower on the gates.Anything out of the ordinary made her nervous, and this lack of security was highly unusual.But understandable, she conceded as the roar of a helicopter lifting off snapped her gaze skyward.The official aircraft of Kasiki had just become airborne, which explained the lack of guards.If her father had left the building, the embassy would be sealed.
Had the captives gone too?
Before she could answer that question, a hand was slapped over her mouth.Struggling furiously as a van with blacked-out windows screeched to a halt at the side of the road, she was dragged backward and bundled inside.
It was dark in the back of the vehicle.The heavy air jangled with tension and smelled of metal, leather, and combat-ready men.Karolina was pressed into a corner, almost completely smothered by Kevlar, combat gear, and weaponry.Her eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light.“Where are you taking me?”The men were all dressed in black, heavily armed, wearing night-vision goggles.“Is this a raid on the embassy?”
There was silence until a familiar voice spoke up.“When we stop the vehicle, you’ll stay here.”
“Conor?”Shock and relief hit her equally.Dressed elegantly, Conor was in the process of stripping off his clothes.The scent of warm clean man assailed her.All muscle and power, he was losing no time in pulling on the same black combat gear as the rest of the men.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”he demanded coldly.
Fuck you, she thought.“I was trying to help.”
“By putting yourself in danger?By causing a distraction?Sit down and shut up!”
Painfully conscious that the other men present couldn’t help but overhear, she sat stiffly, humiliation and anger boiling through her veins.“Are you here to save the prisoners?”
Conor’s silence was unnerving, and so was that of the other men.“Do you do the same work as my father?”Anything to provoke him, to get a reaction.
She was wasting her time.No one spoke until the van screeched to a halt, when Conor warned, “Don’t you move.”
Before she had a chance to answer, the van door opened, and he directed his team to get out.Conor remained behind.If he’d been formidable before, he was a daunting sight now.Taller and more powerful than the other men, he was a terrifying dark force packed full of gripping menace in the shadows of the van.“Here—take this,” he commanded, pressing a gun into her hands.
The cold weight of it felt alien.“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Point and shoot.Just don’t shoot the good guys when we come back.”
“I’m not staying in the van, while you—”
She cursed as the door slammed behind him.No way was she sitting around doing nothing.Was Conor’s intention to help the captives?They were her responsibility too.
Slipping out of the van, she followed in the team’s wake.The van had stopped somewhere close to the river Thames in the city of London.Conor spearheaded the group, giving orders with gestures, not words.The team was heading for a long line of low-lying buildings skirting the riverbank.All the buildings looked the same, except for the one with a helicopter parked on the roof.She recognized the cars parked outside.They belonged to her father’s security team.
Trailing the Conor’s team down an alleyway between the buildings, she glanced through a window to see spotlights blazing down and cameras already in action.
The show had begun.
The first group for sale was made up of older women huddled together for comfort.Dressed in the same rags they’d arrived in when they’d been shipped in from overseas in a container, they were singled out one by one and brought forward for their close-up on camera.Terror-lined faces streaked with tears glanced hopelessly at each other as the auction began.
A group of young women came next.She couldn’t tell if they were petrified or drugged as they shambled into the spotlight.Chains around their ankles joined them in one heartbreaking line.Hiding their naked bodies as best they could, they stared at the floor until one of her father’s thugs barked an order and they raised their chins to stare straight ahead.
