People Trafficker
Authors: Keith Hoare
The People Trafficker
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
Published by
Ragged Cover Publishing
Copyright 2010 Keith Hoare
www.peopletrafficker.com
Karen Marshall sat quietly in the rear of a small dinghy as it approached the submarine. The weak light of a waning moon spreading across the still water, made the submarine look dark, ominous and forbidding. This starkness was broken only by a few small handheld lights moving about on the narrow deck.
She looked back towards the fast diminishing coastline of the Lebanon, collected only minutes ago from a remote cove - finally the nightmare was over and she was going home.
Soon the dinghy was alongside and hands were grasping hers, helping her onto the deck. She was directed to an open hatch, a ladder leading down inside, lit only by dim bulkhead lights. A man wearing the uniform of an officer was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps, as she climbed down into the submarine. He asked if she’d eaten, and when she said no, he took her directly to the galley. She was to see the Captain as soon as possible, but he wasn’t available for another hour.
In the galley, Karen settled down to eat a huge helping of stew followed by apple crumble and custard. A few of the crew had given her a cursory look but said nothing. She felt quite put out over this, expecting at least some civility, but none had been forthcoming. What Karen didn’t know was that they were under orders not to talk to her, go near her, or make any comments to each other about her being there, until she’d had her meeting with the Captain.
The officer she’d met earlier entered the galley a short time later and came over. “Have you finished your dinner?” he asked, looking at the three quarters demolished tray, her utensils now laid at the side of the plates.
“Yes thank you, it was a little too much for me. I hope I won’t upset your cook, thinking I didn’t enjoy it. I did, but I don’t usually have such large portions and couldn’t take another mouthful.”
The officer smiled. “No, he’ll be fine, besides you did well. Food on a war ship is a very important part of the day, but you’re right, sailors do tend to have rather large portions. Anyway, now you’ve finished, the Captain is waiting to talk to you.”
Karen made to stand, but an injury to her side sent pain down her leg and she fell forward a little with the shock.
The officer looked at her with alarm. “Are you alright he asked?”
She shrugged, giving a weak smile. “I’m fine, it’s just I got injured on my side and it gives me a little pain at times. Shall we go and see your Captain?”
She followed him down long, narrow corridors - it was very different to the ship that had taken her to the Lebanon - finding she had to climb through stepped doors to get from one section to another. Eventually they stopped outside a door and the officer knocked. Rewarded with an acknowledgment, they went inside.
A man, smart but casually dressed, was sitting at a small desk. He stood as they entered and offered his hand.
“Karen Marshall, it’s good to meet you at last. I hope my officers are looking after you?”
She looked at the man, deciding he must be in his fifties. “Yes thank you, Sir, the food was very welcome and English for a change.”
He nodded. “That’s good; anyway may I offer you a drink, tea, coffee, or something a little stronger perhaps?”
“Coffee’s fine, but no sugar please,” she replied.
They both sat down while the officer left to collect the coffee.
“I know you must be tired, Karen, but we’re still in a holding pattern, waiting to collect the soldiers who came for you. Perhaps you can tell me why you were at the pickup point alone, and more importantly who brought you there?”
“The SAS soldiers brought me to within fifteen miles of the cove, Sir, and then while I hid they created a diversion for the search teams, so I could get through. But they didn’t hold out much hope of being able to rejoin me at the pickup point. There were thousands of soldiers searching.”
“I see, Karen, but was this split up necessary? Surely it was a big risk, on your part, to go on alone? Would it not have been safer if you’d stayed with them? After all, if you had been picked up, it would have been by the authorities and not the traffickers. They would almost certainly have sent you home. I would think the decision to send you on alone strongly risked you coming across marauding groups, with no allegiance to the legal government, or maybe the traffickers themselves?”
Karen shrugged. “Depends how you look at it. If I’d remained with the SAS soldiers, and we’d been captured, I’d have wanted them to put a gun to my head. So to go on alone gave me a chance to get home, but still with the option of taking my own life, if I’d been caught.”
The Captain’s reply to her contained disbelief at the way she was talking. “Perhaps a little exaggerated, after all, what were you so scared of that you’d want to commit suicide?”
“You mean was I prepared to return to a life where I’d have been raped every day? Where I’d even be sold again and again to different abusers, as they tired of me, or until I was too old or ill to carry on, and then have my throat cut, like I saw them do to a girl? I think not, Sir, I’d have taken the suicide option rather than that future, wouldn’t you think?”
He didn’t reply, as the officer returned with coffee. The Captain thanked him, and then called him back as he was just about to leave the cabin. “Karen tells me it is highly unlikely that any of the SAS will get to the cove. We’re already two hours past our deadline so stand the rescue crews down and resume the patrol.”
“Yes, Captain. We’ve made a cabin available to Karen when you’ve finished your meeting.” Then he glanced at Karen before looking back to the Captain. “The Medical Officer would like to take a look at Karen, Captain, before she settles for the night? He was concerned when I mentioned to him she was injured and would like to check for himself, if that’s agreeable with you, Karen? We do have six female crew members on board and you may have one with you during his examination.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you, I’d like to have another woman present please.”
“Well give us ten more minutes, Number Two, and Karen is all yours,” the Captain said bringing the conversation to an end.
When the officer left, the Captain looked back at Karen, who was, by now, sipping her coffee. “Returning to our discussion I can now understand your concerns about being captured, Karen, you must have been very scared? In your own view do you believe that we can get the soldiers back?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really know. What I do know is that the reward for their capture was very high. Then according to the SAS officer in charge there was very heavy fighting at the warehouses. I would think the gunrunner they targeted was annoyed at his own home being destroyed, as well as the warehouses, besides losing me, which he’d just paid around forty thousand dollars for. By what I’ve seen of the men there, they were not the sort to stick to any Geneva Convention if any of the soldiers had been caught.”
“Yes, you could be right there. I think you did very well to get yourself to the cove. Of course I’ve also read the report put together about you. It shows a very level-headed girl, who wouldn’t fall apart under pressure. This assessment was reinforced by your parents, particularly your father, who spoke very highly of your abilities. You should be very proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, Sir, I only wish things had turned out a little better. It would have been nice to see everyone get out.”
He stood as she finished her coffee. “Well don’t worry yourself; it’s not your problem. We’ll have your injury looked at, and then perhaps you’d like to get your head down? We’re not due to arrive in Cyprus for ten days. The submarine is still following a planned exercise, and the diversion to the pickup point was added later to the orders. I understand, because of this, I’m to transfer you to a supply ship the day after tomorrow. This ship is en route to our base in Cyprus. It’ll be an experience for you, as we transfer by cable winching between the two vessels. It’s actually a good live exercise for my crew. I hope you’re not afraid of heights suspended across water?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Karen shuddered inwardly at the thought, but never displayed any reluctance to him. “I don’t think so Sir, but I’m happy with whatever you do to get me home. Would I be able to wander round your submarine while I’m waiting, or am I expected to stay in my cabin?”
He smiled. “This isn’t a prison, Karen, you’re free to go into the mess areas, and talk to the crew. Providing they are not on watch. You cannot of course go to operational areas, alone that is, but I’ll arrange for you to be shown around if you’re interested in seeing how a submarine works? You will join me and the other officers for dinner tomorrow night. Breakfast and lunch will be in the galley where you’ve just eaten. I’ll also have you provided with basic ship’s clothes but you’ll leave the submarine with your own clothes, after they’ve been laundered.”
“Thank you, Sir, I’ll try to keep out of everyone’s way, but I would love to look around the submarine, after all it’s not something ordinary people, like me, ever get the chance to do.”
Later Karen was lying alone in a surprisingly comfortable bed, inside a cabin usually used by the Engineering Officer who’d doubled up with the First Officer. She could hear the deep and constant thud, thud, of the engines, with the odd vibration of something on the shelves of the cabin, but little else. She’d been surprised no one had looked in her backpack when she’d come aboard, or if they had without her knowledge, nothing was said about the large amount of cash inside. The knife from Chapman was not in the bag but attached to her ankle, and wearing jeans, it wouldn’t have been found anyway. So after they had left her alone, and with the cabin door locked, she’d removed her jeans and tried, without much luck, to find how she could attach the knife and its holder to her thigh or knickers. After all, she still wanted to carry protection and often wore short skirts. Deciding to check
out the internet
when she got home for a strap that would suit, Karen placed the knife and its sheath in the very bottom of the backpack, removed her t-shirt and then climbed into bed. Her confidence was growing now she was going home.
Over the next day, apart from feeling better in herself, Karen was no longer the girl who’d left England. She’d become more alive to the fact of how attractive and sexually desirable she really was to men, and began experimenting with this belief. She’d flirt with the ratings; besides making each officer believe they were special to her as well. When she wasn’t around, there was friendly rivalry among the crew, who’d been able to talk to her, as to who she fancied. This went for the officers as well; eyeing each other with suspicion, believing Karen really liked them that little bit more than their fellows. She was taken everywhere, by the officers of course, but Karen didn’t ignore the ratings and chatted to them all. The few who’d plucked up enough courage and asked her for a date, didn’t get a direct rejection, more ‘I’ll see what happens when we arrive in Cyprus’, so none had gone away with the idea she’d actually said no, but of course she’d not actually said yes.
