Niko stood in the empty factory unit, watching the truck as the driver slowly backed it in. When it had cleared the doors, one of Ilya’s men hit a switch, and a motor started whirring as the door lowered shut.
When it hit the ground with a low thud, the truck’s engine cut out, and several more of Ilya’s men stepped forward to lift the back door. Drago stepped inside the warehouse at the back of Ilya’s men, his short-cropped blond hair making him easy to spot, his face a mask lacking any emotion.
As light permeated the truck, probably for the first time in twenty-four hours or more, Niko watched the women crowded into the back hold their hands up to their eyes, to shield them from the sudden brightness.
Niko stepped forward to get a look at them, and her stomach rolled when she realised how young most of them were. It was almost as though someone had raided an after-school club and kidnapped all the students.
Ilya would be pleased. Young, inexperienced girls fetched a premium price at auction. He would make a pretty packet when this lot reached Rotterdam.
She looked closer and saw how bedraggled and filthy they were. Goodness knows how long ago they’d been taken, but they’d obviously had no access to soap and water since. They would need to be scrubbed before the next leg of their journey.
“How many?” She looked at the driver for a report.
“Thirty-two.” He confirmed. “Young and fresh.”
Niko swallowed down the bile, hard-pressed to stop the look of disgust and revulsion showing on her face. She was there as Ilya’s proxy, and as such, she needed to at least try and look as though she supported the business he ran. It wouldn’t do to let anyone know that given half a chance she would shoot the lot of them, Ilya’s men, and the seller’s crew, and release the women so they could go back to their families.
Ilya had laughed at her when she insisted that they look after the women they transported, but she made sure that his men kept their hands, and other body parts, to themselves. Niko’s argument was that she was just trying to ensure that the women fetched top dollar on disposal, but she doubted that Ilya actually believed her.
Still, he didn’t seem to care what her reasons were for looking after the women he trafficked. Not while he actually was going to get top dollar for them as a result of her interference.
“Get them out of the truck and put them in the back room.” Niko instructed the men closest to her. “Keep your hands off them, though. I want no marks.”
Drago smirked at Niko, having heard her give the same instruction dozens of times. She knew the men feared Ilya enough to not actually try and fuck one of the hostages, but she doubted that they kept their hands entirely to themselves. Still, as unpleasant as it was to be grabbed by one of those stinking thugs, it would be a whole lot worse to be raped by one of them.
As the women climbed down from the truck and allowed themselves to be herded into the small former factory unit, Niko saw one of the older women glance around at all the faces in the room.
She knew the moment the woman spotted her, as the look on her face went from fear to disgust and loathing in less than a heartbeat.
Why did these women think that Niko being there was any worse than the men who were there? Because she was a woman? Because she should feel bad about their situation?
Who said she didn’t? Well, everyone, actually.
Nobody ever believed that she could sympathise with the hostages, and still do what she did. But she could. She had to.
Did anyone really believe that she was doing this job for Ilya out of a desire to traffic poor unfortunate females? Did they think that when she went to college to learn English, or even before that, when she was in school, that she wrote essays about what she wanted to be when she grew up, and in them she explained how she wanted to traffic women for slavers?
“Stop!” She instructed the men, who halted just before the older woman was pushed into the back room.
Niko walked up to her, towering over the woman by about six inches, and noticed the look of defiance waver as she realised Niko was heading directly towards her.
“Do you speak English?” She asked, watching with surprise as the woman registered her words, spoken in very clear English with only a slight accent.
The woman nodded her understanding.
“Good.” Niko leaned down so she was staring directly into the woman’s face. “Because I want you to understand your options here. You will take that look off your face, the one that told me quite eloquently that you hoped I burned in the pits of hell, and you’ll keep your eyes down and your mouth shut at all times. Is that understood?”
Niko waited for the woman to nod.
“Good.” She smiled. “Because I’m the only person here trying to keep you alive and keep you all from being raped by my brother’s men. Of course, if you prefer to keep sneering at me, I could always let the men take you into the office and take turns fucking you over the desk. It’s your choice. But FYI, they do like a challenge. So, the more defiant you want to be, the happier they’ll be when they get their turn.”
She watched the woman pale significantly.
“Good. I think we understand each other now.” Niko scowled at the woman. “So, when you get in that warehouse with the other women, I suggest that you pass on my warning. Tell them what fate awaits anyone who steps out of line.”
The woman nodded before being pushed into the room, and Niko turned around to see Drago watching her closely, his green eyes missing nothing. No doubt he was ready to report everything he saw back to Ilya.
Niko hated this part of the process. She hated seeing the women and knowing the fear they had. Fear of dying. Fear of being raped. Fear of the unknown.
In the last few years she’d learned to live with it, but none of it sat easily with her. It was simply the price she paid to keep her son safe. To Niko, Roman’s safety was everything.
Once the women were all inside the building, Niko followed them in. They were all huddled against the far wall, cowering away from the men standing close to the door and the mattresses stacked up in the corner.
“Listen to me.” Niko raised her voice, waiting until she had their attention. “Beyond the door to my left is a large bathroom, with showers. You will disrobe in here, leaving your soiled clothes in the bin in the corner, before moving into the bathroom. You will shower using the soap and shampoo provided. Some of you have head-lice, and most of you are covered in filth. The shampoo will rid you of the lice. I suggest you use it properly or the next few weeks will be miserable for you. Once clean, there are piles of clothes on racks. Take a t-shirt, leggings, jacket, and underwear. Once you’re dressed, return to this room, and make yourselves comfortable. You’ll be here for a few days.”
Niko turned to the men behind her, and noticed they were watching the women with interest, obviously waiting for them to strip.
“Out, now!” She instructed in Russian, watching the look of surprise on the men’s faces.
“But who’ll guard them?” One of Ilya’s men protested.
“You’ll still guard them.” Niko explained. “Only you’ll do it from outside. There’s only one door to get in or out of the building, so I have no doubt you can manage to guard it sufficiently to stop the women escaping through it. After all, it does have a lock.”
Some of the men looked to Drago for confirmation.
“You heard her. Do what she says, or you’ll regret it.” He confirmed.
Niko turned back to the women and spoke again in English.
“Make no mistake, if any of you tries to escape, or gives my men any sort of trouble, the consequences will be severe.” Niko warned. “For every one of you that causes trouble, I will let the men have that person and another two. Do you understand?”
Enough of them nodded for her to be assured that they would pass on the message. Satisfied, Niko turned back to one of Ilya’s lieutenants and scowled.
“You’re Bogdan, right?” She addressed him in Russian.
Niko waited for him to nod.
“Right, well, we’ll all be here for two more days before we ship out. Once the men from the auctioneer get here, we need to be ready to leave.” She explained, needing him to make sure Ilya’s thugs followed her instructions. “Do you think you can manage to keep your men from damaging the cargo for forty-eight hours? I don’t want to hear that any of the women have been molested, or I will hold you personally responsible.”
The man stood straighter, obviously pissed at the suggestion he couldn’t do his job properly.
“I can keep them apart.” He insisted. “Although, I know you noticed there were a few older ones. It wouldn’t hurt to let the men have a bit of fun with them, would it?”
“Those older women are the ones who are keeping the younger ones from freaking out.” Niko pointed out. “I don’t want any of them touched. If you can’t follow a simple instruction, I’ll speak to my brother. I’m sure he can easily find someone to replace you, as, I’m sure, can your wife and girlfriends. Your mother might find it more difficult, but, hey… It’s your choice.”
The man’s cheeks reddened, but he kept his temper in check. Drago’s presence probably had some influence there.
“I’ll follow your instructions.” He bit out, and Niko had to turn away from him to hide her smile.
“Make sure you do. I’ve got someone watching the surveillance camera footage, and I’ll know if you fail your task.” Niko pointed to the old security camera high on the wall.
So, what if it hadn’t worked for years? Bogdan wouldn’t know that.
Niko headed out of the building and back to her borrowed car.
“I’ll be back in the morning to make sure my cargo is still in perfect condition.” She called over her shoulder.
Niko started the engine and moved forward, away from the factory, and onto the main road, nodding briefly to Drago as she passed by. He smiled at her, but she couldn’t tell whether it was a genuine smile, or not.
She desperately needed someone she could trust, but she couldn’t risk confiding in her brother’s number two. It could be suicide.
She genuinely couldn’t wait for these auction guys to arrive, so they could finally get on the road, the women packed into the back of the bigger trucks. Once they left the city she would start to relax, especially once they were over the border and out of Turkey.
The numbers of Ilya’s men would drop drastically once they were in transit, and she would feel less like one of the women they trafficked.
Yeah, the irony wasn’t lost on her.