The Uncounted E-Book

James McKenna

• Herausgeber: Lone Cloud
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 1218

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Is the girl on the train beside you a free citizen, or is she enslaved by debt bondage? Human trafficking is the fastest growing industry run by organised crime. Detective Inspector Sean Fagan of SOCA investigates the Agency, a criminal fraternity trafficking illegal immigrants. When MI5 inform Fagan the Agency are contracting expendable people for use by an Islamic terror cell, the pressure mounts while the SIS manipulate dark and secret ways to fight their long-term wars. Trapped in a wretched world of modern slavery, abuse and barbaric killings, Jelena an illegal from Kosovo dreams of freedom but violent forces which shaped her adolescence still dominate her life. Jelena is given to the terrorists as a disposable chattel and finds herself locked in a flat with millions of virus contaminated bank notes. Death awaits until events reunite her with Gavrilo, the boy she had known and loved when both were adolescents. Now mentally disturbed but a successful car thief and solider for the Agency, Gavrilo seeks refuge from reality by busking with his violin while believing Jelena is an angel, a vision who he has always loved but believes is dead. As Fagan closes, a bomb containing enough anthrax to kill thousands is unwittingly carried by Gavrilo into Central London. With Jelena's help, MI5 and SOCA desperately search as the timing device ticks to detonation and the destruction of British democratic tolerance. The slave industry is alive and flourishing. Between 500,000 and 800,000 people are trafficked into the EU every year. The favoured destination is England. Tied by debt bondage women are forced into prostitution while men are used in organised crime or hired out to labour intensive employment where they receive little or no payment. The rebellious are frequently murdered. When beyond physical exploitation many are used for benefit fraud or sold on for organ transplant

Leseprobe

THE

UNCOUNTED

By JamesMcKenna

THE UNCOUNTED Lone Cloud Publishing

Unit1BetjemanClose,CowperRoad,

Harpenden,HertsAL54XH

2012

ISBN-13:978-1470091842 [email protected]

CopyrightJamesMcKenna2012.Allrightsreserved

TherightofJamesMcKennatobeidentifiedastheauthorofthis workhasbeenassertedby him

inaccordancewiththeCopyright,DesignsandPatentsAct

Nopartofthis publicationmay bereproduced,storedinor introducedintoa retrievalsystem,ortransmittedinanyform,

or byanymeans(electronic,mechanical,photocopying,recording or otherwise)withoutthe prior writtenpermissionofthe publisher.

Anypersonwhodoesanyunauthorisedactinrelationtothis publicationmaybeliableto criminalprosecutionandcivilclaimsfor damages

Aclipcataloguerecordforthis bookisavailablefromtheBritish

Library

This bookissoldsubjecttothe conditionthatitshallnotbywayof trade,or otherwise,belent,resold,hiredout,orotherwisecirculated withoutthe publisher’spriorconsent

inanyformof bindingorcoverotherthanthatiswhichitis publishedandwithoutsimilarconditionincludingthiscondition beingimposedonthe subsequentpurchaser.

Thanksto Kevin forhiscover designand

Virginiaforher support and tenacity

Visit lonecloudpublishingorjameswmckenna.co.ukfor more booksby thisauthor,

interviewsand comments.

You can sign up forenewsletters so you always hear first about newreleases.

Other book: The Unseen

Books soonto be released: Final Justice

Global Raiderwww.jameswmckenna.co.uk

CHAPTER 1

Jelenafeltasharpclawofcoldnightairaroundhernaked legs,herfleshexposedforthelicentiousstaresofpassing men. Whenacarmovedonshere-closedthecoatovera pelmet skirt,hugging herself, hiding deepinside hermindand body, burrowing downtowhere she keptthelittle girl oflong ago.

Anothercar slowedand instinctively shepartedthecoat, revealingatrimand shapely figure. Ayoungguy staredfrom behindthesafetyofhiswindscreen,hismouthopen,secure inhismobilemetalbox. Agooper,shethought,let's seethe freak showbeforetakinghome the familykebabs. Coatclosed she retreatedfromthekerbsidehopingtheshadow froma turned up collar disguised her thirty yearsand petite features. Agencythugsfrequently searchedthepickupgroundfor runawaygirlsandany secretlysolicitingfortheirown gain. Punishment usually came viaahard knuckled fist.

Undertheyellowglowof streetlightshercoat openedand closedforbusinessmen,Asianmen,blackmen,whitemen fullofbeer,allincars,fewbravingthepavementlikethe

individualwhowalkedwithunseen feetbeneathan ankle lengthcoat,atrilbyhatpulledlowonhisforehead. Jelena watched him, her chin down. He appearedwithout dimensions,asifsteppingfroma blackandwhitemovie. He stopped, spoketo one girl, then moved on.

Looking foracheapdeal,Jelenathought. Buthowcheap, belowthestandardfiftypounds? Hecametoher,gliding over the wet drizzled pavement with the movement of a

ghost,histeethandface grey,hiseyesdarkorbs. Unreal, she shivered. Notthisone,shedidn'twantthisone;stillshe spoke.

"Youwanthandjob?"she asked,openingthecoatand hitchingthesideofherskirt."Thirtypounds."

Toolittle,toolittle,butbettertohave a few poundsfor underwearand toothpaste than standfreezing fornothing.

Thegreyofhisteethglistenedwhilebreath seepedin slow escapefrom histhroat. Heturnedand shewatchedhim glide towardsherfriend,Lindita.

"Cheap bastard,"she whispered and checked herwatch. Theyhadleftthehosteltwohoursago,supposedlyfor

LinditatobuyfoodandJelenatohelpcarry. Linditawas trusted,Bosko'sfavouritebecauseinfearshesuckedupto him,alwaysobedientandattentive. In result Boskogave her anelementoffreedom. Being one ofthe oldestgirlsand the longestresident,Jelenasensedonlyhate forhim;hategave cold strength, hate kept her alive. But after two hours absence he would realise whatthey were doinganddemand halftheirearnings. Fingers screwedupinsideemptypockets she watched Lindita and her ghost turn the corner. No moneymeantabeating. Perhaps Linditawouldloanherten pounds,tenpoundswouldmeanonlya slapacrossthe face insteadof Bosko'sbelt. Twentyminutes,intwentyminutes Linditawould return. Maybeshewouldbuythem acoffee. Maybeahamburger. Maybeitwouldbebetterifthey were both dead.

Consideringshehadherperiod,Linditaconsideredthelast twohoursnotbad. Jelenahaddonenothing,butthenthe prissycowwastooexpensive,toofussy. Clutchingthe forty poundsinherpocket shetightenedhercoatagainstthe cold air,makingherwanttopee. Onemoretrickandshewould go.

Theguypassedfourothergirls,includingJelena. Lindita

openedhercoatasheapproachedandthoughtmaybeshe’d

buyherfriendapizzawiththeircoffee,maybeapplecakeand

cream. WhygiveBoskoallthemoney? Aftertwohours absencehe would beat themanyway.

"Youremindmeoflongago,ofthevillagegirls,"theman said, his voicesoft, hinting ofculture and a Slovak accent.

Nocustomereversaidthat. Firstwordswerehowmuch? "Youwantbusiness?" Shepreenedforhim. Hiseyeswere

dark and heavy, but focused, notdrunk. Thisone would be easy.

"Whatdoyouoffer?" Hislongcoatandbrimmedhat made himappearoldfashionedormaybe, Lindita thought,he had fallenoutofthe sky froma time she had known whena child.

"You want hand job?Thirtypounds,"shesaid. "Ican do thatmyself.Howabout a blowjob?"

"Onehundred." She grimacedasheturnedaway. "OK, fifty"

Heturnedbackagain. "Asyouareaprettyvillagegirl,I

accept. Where?"

"Ihave quietplace." She tookhisarm,leadinghimtothe adjacentstreetandabluedoorwaybetweenshops. Sheused

herkey,blackmailedoutofa regularclient,thenswitchedon the hall light. Beneaththe main stairsan empty space where theshopsreceiveddeliveriesstoodbleakanddesolate. She leantbackagainstthe scuffedwallandopenedher coat. "Money."

She watched himtake outcash, watched himcountfifty in tenners.

"Whenyoufinish,"hesaidandthrewherpaymenttothe

floor.

Intheglareofnakedlighthisskinappearedtranslucent

white.Hiseyeswere smokegrey,intentbutcalm,asifhe entered someactof benevolence ratherthanlust. "Begin,"he ordered.

She unzippedhim,pulledtoextracthisrigidpenis,then openedacondom and rolled itinto place.Thispart shehated. Shekneltandbegantomasturbatehimthesametimeshe

tookhimintohermouth,it wasquickerthatway,sometimes onlyminutes. Shekepther eyesclosed,holdinghimbetween herlipsasshe movedherhandandreachedforthefallen notes.

"You have children?"he asked.

Children,washecrazy? Hermouthoccupied, sheshook herhead.

"That’sgood. Thisisabadplaceforchildren. Children

shouldnotbebornhere."

She felt his hand on the top of her head, felt slight pressureasifsomesaintlypriesthadblessedher. Shetook

hermouthawayandlookeduptotheblack steelhammer descending. Thenherheadburst. She feltitopen andhotin momentarypain.Thennothing.

Jelena screamed as the beltseared her skin.

"Youlethergetkilled,youstupidbitch. Whatifthe policehadcaughtyou? Doyouknowwhatthebosswould do tome?"Boskoshouted, lashingagain.

Stretchedacrossthe tablebytwotrusses, Jelenagrimaced throughtearfilledeyeswhichblurredthefacesofthe girls aroundher. Howmany beatingsinfifteenyears? Howlong didhellexist? Sheheardthecriesofthosewhowatched, heardtheirprotestsforhim tostop,then feltthesearing pain acrossherback and buttocks, overandover.

"Dadda, why ismy nose small andbeautifulwhilstyoursisso big?"Sophieasked,tapping theiteminquestionwith atiny delicate finger.

"Big." Sean puffed out his cheeks and peered at his

daughter."My noseisnotbig,"hesniffed. "Mynose indicates aristocratic birth inherited from my Celtic ancestors. My nose,"he looked upwards, "isnoble."

"Doesthat makemeaprincess?" Sophiesnuggledbeside him, dropping herbedtimebook into hislap.

"Sophie,mysweetheart,you'llalwaysbe myprincess." He placed an arm about her shoulders and felt the glow of paternallove. Amidst the total destruction of their family unity, such moments returned meaning tolife, such moments gavelife apurpose.

"Becky,"Sophie called to her sister. "BecauseofDad'sbig nose, you andme areprincesses."

"Tell ittoHarry boy," Rebecca called backfromher bedroom. "Then I standachance." Moments later she appearedatthedoorluggingacase. "It'sgotmynew martial arts stuff plus dumbbells. Couldyoucarryitdown,Dad? It's heavy. Bradley'sclearedaspaceinthegarageformynew gym. Givesme moreroom in thebedroom."

"Sure." Seanlookedtohisfourteenyearold, her appearancemorewomanthanchild. "Butwhydumbbells? You don't wantmuscle."

"YesIdo. SoIcanpacka punch. I'vejoinedthe school kickboxing and martial artsclub, there'retoomanyjunk heads about. Thesedaysagirlneedswhampower." Shethrewa

kissandreturned toherroom.

"OK,Daddy. Backonthejob." Sophieshuffledagainst

himwithher shoulder. "Tonightwe startanother Rosie adventure, TheMind Traveller. EvenJulie,ourdormprefect, she readsRosie andshe'ssixteen."

"Youhappyatboarding school?" heasked, stroking her arm,thinkingher sovulnerablefar fromhome,farfromher mother, his ex-wife, sitting rigid with her new partner,

Bradley, in theirthirty grandkitchen below.

"Youbet. Beingaboarderyou'rein. ThoughI'monly

nine,eventhe seniorgirls talktome. Daygirls,they're nothing." Sheflicked herfingers, thenlookedupathim,her eyeshuge,loving, trusting. "Dadda,youwon'teverforgetus will you? Sometimes wedon't see you forweeks."

"Ihavetochasebadguys,mysweet. AndIalwaysthink ofyou, both ofyou."

"Well,Isupposeifyouchasethebadguys,thenthey won't get us, ever, willthey?"

"Never, mylittle princess, never."

WhenSeancarried Becky'ssportsbag intothekitchen Camilla suddenly startedtextingonheriPhone,while Bradley stared withempty eyesintothe screen ofhislaptop.

"I'll call around for the girls ten, ten thirty Sunday morning."Sean looked between them fora civilisedresponse. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." Camilla nodded her head as if imitatingadonkey,wavingdismissivelywhichtrembledthe everincreasing fat on herforearms. "Just don't be late, wetee

offelevensharp."

Seangrimacedindespair. Beingdivorcedfortwo and a halfyearsallowedhimto seethepersonheonce married withouttheblindness oflove. Golf,money and selfwere the only concernsinherhead. Marriage,he now knew, lived ona union ofmindsnotbodies.

"TillSunday,"hewaved. Neitherlookedup fromtheir mindlessdistraction.

Beckywaitedinthehall. "Thanksforcarryingthebag,

Dad," she huggedhim, then whispered, "anddon'tworry aboutSophie. Mum'salwaysbusyoroffsomewhere. It's betterwe board. Sophie'shappy,honest. I'mthereforher. Youtakecareofthebadguys. Justtryandvisitmoreoften

'coswe loveyou." Shehuggedagainandhe kissedthetopof herhead.

"I'm neverfarmy love, never."

CHAPTER 2

Thesharpspringairfilled SeanFagan’slungsandfelt good, helpedhimfocusthecold resolveheneeded forhiswork,to lead, to save life, todifferentiate betweentheprey and predator. Noteasywhendealingwithgreedandhunger simultaneously.

Headandshouldersabovethecrowd,hissolid,athletic

body parted the flow ofpeople in Haringey’s busystreet market. A sixfootfiveinchframegavehimanadvantageous view above the heads of a mixed ethnic community, the bustleofcolourfullife, thosewhoworriedaboutmortgages and children, football and grannies, people ofthereal world.

SomewhereamidsttheactivityheknewmembersofRed

team were following threeAlbanian pimps, men ready to purchasefromaslaveauction. Theinformationsourcehad

beeneager, abuyerthreatened withdeportation. Somewhere alongthisbusy streetamarketofadifferentkind soldyoung women to the highest bidder. Women far from home, womenwhodidnotexist,afewoftheuncounted. Ten thousandpoundsa body,tenthousandpoundsfora woman withoutpassportorofficialrecognition. Tenwomen,one hundred thousand pounds for the Agency. The market aroundhimsoundedbrisk, noisywiththecallsoftraders,of people out enjoyingtheirSaturday morning.

From experienceSean kept his emotions wrapped and followedthe rules. He allowednoangerorpersonal involvement. HehadinformedtheMetandhadSO19on

standby in case the opposition drew weapons. He had warned the local forcethat an armed unit of the Serious OrganisedCrimeAgency hadenteredtheareaonactive operation. Hehadwarned thattheoppositionplayerswould be armed. A lotofcashwasinvolved,butlittletrust. These menwouldkillwithoutthought. Toretaliateinkind,to blow themallawayandslide withthemintothedark side wouldbe so easy.

ExceptthiswasBritainandlifehadrules. Herubbed his noseandhunchedintohisstride. Hisowngirlswouldbe happy asany kidsin the populace around him. Love andduty madeagoodanchorintocivilisedbehaviour. Tokillthe unwantedwould onlyreplaceevilwithevil. Thepimpswould behappy,outonajaunttobuynewmeat,newbodiesto make themmoney. Laterthey wouldwatchfootball,have a fewbeers,givetheirnewgirlsagoodscrew,maybeslapthem alittle. Newmerchandisehadtoknowtheirplace.That nighttheywould startinthe cathouse,startpaybacktimefor theirescapeoutofpoverty. Seanfelttheclutchofangerin hisstomachandtheweight ofaGlock17automatic strapped underhisblackleathercoat. Thepimpsneverrealisedthey haddescendedtoa substratadevoidof humanity,becoming likemaggotsfeedingonthefleshofothers. Tokillthem would besotempting.

The shortwave body setwiredfromaninside pocket occasionallyclickeditspresenceovertheearpiece but otherwisestayedsilent. Somewhereupfrontteammembers were closing in onthe target, leavingSean temporarilyisolated inthebabbleofnoise andmovement. Allaroundhim everyonelookedhappy,pleasedtheyhadwarmsunaftera longwinter,thankfulforsparemoneyontheircreditcards. Forsome,lifeheld promise.

Seanslowedforanoldwomanshufflingtowardshim, her handbagopen,herpurseandmoneyontop. Dressedina smartwoollencoatshe searchedthebag withthebefuddled lookelderlypeoplekeptfor lostkeyslyingattheirfeet. She appeared totallyunawareofthe kidsaround her.

Seancountedsixboysclosinginforthesnatch,twogirls

attheback readytotakethepass. Theywere ofmixed race, blackandwhite,tenortwelveyearsoldinsmartdesigner gear,theirhoodsup. Amidthe pedestrianstheyclosedand circled, resemblingyoungdogsarounda sickoldcow. Maybe theyweregoingtoofferherasafeescorthome,thenmaybe

theywerenot. Seansteppedfromtheflowofpeopleand stoodcloseto her.

"You OK, mother?" He looked round at the kids, grimacedasmileandwatchedthem disperse amongstthe crowd, slick,silent.

Thewomanlooked upathimandsnapped herbagclosed. "I’mnotyourmother,"she said,eyesnarrowasshemoved away.

Sean grunted and considered the incident his good

community act ofthe day.Good citizenshad some use.

At1105hourstheearpiece cametolifewiththevoiceof Simmy,the youngestmemberof Red team andcurrentlythe lead eyeball.

"Suspectsenteringarestaurant. Glassdoor,closedsign

up. Guywholettheminislocking upagain. The place is called Zekis. Lookslikewegot ourvenue."

"Allreceived,RT4,"Seananswered. "Allunitsmove up. Jan, Diane, Chad,go round the back, seeif you can find arear entrance. Watch for runners."

Sean kept to the opposite pavement and positioned himselfwithcoverfromastall,blendingwiththecrowd, trying to keep unobtrusive.

Simmy’s voice came back. "The big boyshave arrived. I'd guesstheauctioneerandhisminder. Midforties,Saddam look-alike, moustache, coat, hat, the lot. The guy withhimis bigasGodzilla. Darkglasses,moustache,platehead. The dome’sgotagrowththesizeofawalnut,likehe’sbolted down. Definitelytheminder. He’scarryingabriefcasefor thecash. Hasananklelengthcoat. I’dsayit’scovering hardware,"Simmypaused. "Seriousstuff. Fromthe visible outline an Armalite or AK with folding butt."

Seancurledhisfists. "Fuckit." Switchingthemikebehind hisjacketlapel,hespat outorders. "Redteam,holdposition. FirearmsteammoveforwardbutwaitonarrivalofSO19.

Sorryguys,wecan'trisk afirefight surroundedbythe public, Health and Safety would giveus shit."

Seansensedtheteam'sfrustrationover thesilentradio. Now someone else would take firearms and operation control. Someone,hehoped,abletoreadthesituation. If they clearedtheareamaybethey mightsave thegirls, secure suspects,butifcontrolconsideredittoodangerous,a dozen slavetraderswalkedaway,thewholeoperationtakingweeks to crank up again.

Seanconcentratedonhisprioritiestosavethegirlsandto

taketheauctioneer. Theauctioneerworked fortheAgency andtheAgencyorganisedthetrafficking ofmenandwomen intoBritain,peoplewithoutlegalrightofentry,the hundreds ofthousandsnevercounted. Seantriedtoremainoptimistic.

All might go well providingArea Controlstayed sharp.

For better observation he moved directly across from

Zekisrestaurant. Fazliu,theinformerwouldbewaitingfor theexpectedraid,waiting forpoliceprotection,forthe Home Officetoreversehisrejectedasylum claim. Nohope.

A closed signhung behindthe glassdoor. Twomenleant onthebar,possiblymindersbutnot Godzilla. Candle-waxed bottlessatoncheckedtablecloths.Wineracksstoodoneside

nexttoanemptykebabspit. Tradeforthedaywouldbein thebasement,hiddenfromthe realworld.Seanlookedacross thebright,noisypopulacemovingaroundhim, people totally unawareofanotherworld existing intheirmidst.

Both menatthe restaurant barglancedtowardstheback wherestairsleddownintothebasement. Then, asif summoned,theylefttheir beersanddisappearedfrom view. Maybethegirlsweregivingtrouble. Itonlyneededoneto

startbawling. Tengirlssuddenlyrealisingtheywerebeing soldatauctioncouldgetverystroppy. Seanhopedthey were givingthepimpshellbutalsorealised theyhadcreatedan opportunity.

"RT1tocontrol. ThegroundfloorofZekis’restaurantis

empty. If we move now we can contain this without

endangeringthepublic. Itisimperativeyouclearthearea withminimumnoise andallow my weaponsresponse teamto activate." Sean feltthe flickerin hisgut,the vacuum, theneed forimmediate actionashewaited on "Go".

"All received, RT1, havepassed yourrequestto Control." "TellControltoactivateSO19. Now,now. Getthemon

the market perimeter.But no sirens.Irepeatnosirens."

"Allreceived,RT1. Controlrequiresyourreasonforarea

clearance and activation ofyourteam."

Seansuckedbreathandclenchedhisteeth. "Irepeat, suspectshavenoonewatchingonthegroundfloor,but there arearmedmeninthebasement. Ifwegonowwecontain engagementtothatarea andpreventdangertothe public. I request permission forimmediate action."

"All received, RT1. Control has implemented suspect packageevacuation. Yourteamstayatstand to. Noactionin case there is dangertothe p