Chapter 1

He turned up the collar of his thick, warm coat against the November wind and glanced up into the chilly London night sky. He knew the security car with its nervous occupants was discreetly tailing him. The looks of dismay on their faces when he declared his intention to walk back to the Organization's club in Westminster was so predictable - as if some hapless mugger would stand a chance if he was foolish enough to accost him! While he wandered through the wet streets, Stephen thought of the last few hours and tried to clear his head. After that meeting with the Albanian brothers, he felt somehow dirtied. They were so vile - the tall one who smiled but had such dead eyes, and the younger one whose voice was nothing more than a cold whisper. Yes, they could deliver any number of fresh and beautiful illegal immigrant girls. Yes, any nationality or race that was required. Yes, innocent and untouched or ready-broken and trained. But they wanted paid in diamonds, membership of the Organization AND United States citizenships! The last demand really stuck in Stephen's throat but he had reluctantly agreed. After all, it was the best way to reign in their murderous gang. The Albanians' ruthless trafficking of desperate human cattle throughout Europe had become so large, so efficient, and so deadly - how many had paid all their precious savings and started their hopeful journeys only to disappear 'in transit' without trace? And now the brothers were dealing in heavy weaponry and fissionable material stolen from the corrupt nations of the old Soviet Union. Giving them access to the Organization's slaves would exact a heavy toll - the Albanian brothers were renowned for sharing in the violation and slow torture of young teenage girls until they begged for death to escape their ruined agony. But what was the price of a few girls' lives when compared with the risk of nuclear war?

What he needed right now was a good cup of coffee. Not much chance of that - nobody in London seemed capable of making one and he couldn't stand their crazy obsession with damned English tea. A crippled, unkempt old woman hobbled past, nearly knocking against him as she mumbled some insane words. Stephen took a note from his wallet and held it out to her. The wizened face that peered up into his own seemed to change in the street light - as though you could also see the child she had once been ... and the beautiful woman hidden when age and infirmity had overtaken her body. With remarkable speed, she snatched the note and nodded before moving off. Christ, this was a lousy neighborhood. He nearly walked past the all-night cafe but a sudden gust of chill wind drove him back to the door. What a dump - no wonder I am the only customer! Picking a table with the cleanest looking cloth, he sat down and waited. A man's raised voice came from the kitchen. Whoever was shouting, he sounded livid to the point where every other word uttered was obscene. There was a smacking noise then the kitchen door burst open. A young woman came fleeing into the cafe, covering her face with her hands. She disappeared from view beneath the counter. Stephen listened to her terrified sobbing for a few minutes before deciding it was time to leave. As he scraped the chair back, the woman - barely more than a girl - stood up and studied him mournfully from across the room. A tiny trickle of blood was still running from her nose. "I don't suppose I can get a coffee around here..."

"Uhh, ohh ... sorry I, sorry sir but I didn't see you waiting." He smiled and reached for the door handle. She grabbed a menu and came rushing over. "Please, I mean please ... you don't have to go sir." He looked down into her desperate, pleading eyes. "Please let me get you a coffee, before he hears you left without being served!" Her hand involuntarily moved up to the reddening mark on her face.

"Sure, why not - a strong coffee then, no cream. Unless you do espresso?" He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a single nod before she dashed back to the counter. Stephen sat back down and watched her work. She was a small, unremarkable girl of perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Her mousy colored hair was cut too short for his taste. But she was almost pretty in an elfin sort of way ... kind of interesting, actually. When she brought over the tiny steaming cup, he smiled. His eyebrows lifted in pleasant surprise as he sipped the coffee. It was damned good! As the girl placed the tab on the table, he quickly grabbed hold of her thin wrist, making her gasp. "You'd better get that burn seen to, miss."

She stared down in dismay at the angry red line across the back of her hand. "Please ... please don't say anything to him, please sir. I..."

The American stranger released her and nodded then stunned her by placing a twenty-pound note into her hand. "That isn't for the coffee - which is excellent by the way - that is for you." He drained the cup, left some loose change to cover the bill and went through the door. He paused outside and watched through the window as the girl picked up the coins and made her way back to the counter. Then the owner, a fat scowling man, suddenly appeared and snatched the note from the poor girl's grasp, back-handing her hard across the head. Somehow, Stephen fought down the urge to go back in and beat the guy to a pulp. Instead, he slowly walked across to the waiting limousine with an idea forming in his mind. "I'm taking a cab back, gentlemen." He raised his hand to silence their protest. "And I've got a little job for you here. There's a young waitress in that cafe - track her, see she gets back to her home safely and profile her for imminent collection." Yes, she would be adequate as a house slave but not pretty enough for anything else. "Oh, and see that the cafe owner ends up in hospital for a while - do a good job, gentlemen!" He grinned at the feral hungry look on their faces. "I want the girl collected tomorrow night - let's show the Brits how to stalk and capture quarry in their own backyard!"

One of the guards cleared his throat. "But Sir, you're due at the NATO summit in Brussels tomorrow morning."

Stephen looked at him with a deadpan expression. "They can hardly start without me, can they? Besides, surely I am allowed to collect a souvenir from 'little old England' before we go back to Belgium? The Chateau can always find room for an extra slave." He paused to give further instructions to the oldest guard then flagged down a passing cab and left the chuckling men to their night's work.

Alexa sighed and tried to forget about the nice American's generous tip. But that twenty would have let her buy a CD for her cousins - both Nikki and Julie absolutely loved Britney Spears and couldn't afford her latest album since Aunt Faye had to give up work after her accident. Oh, why was Mr Warren so horrible all the time? Her hand still hurt where he'd jammed the hot pan lid down when she was washing up. But she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears ... and if he tried to put his hand up between her legs again she would tell Aunt Faye - he was a dirty, horrible man and she wished she didn't owe him so much money for that room. Alexa couldn't understand how the electricity bill was so high - she hardly spent any time in the flat above the shop he also owned because he kept her working in the cafe so long. She tried so hard not to hate anybody but with him it was very difficult. Oh, it must be after one o'clock - now she would only get a few hours sleep before starting her next job at the shop. Something made her turn around. But there was no one else in the dark street. Funny, she had felt certain she wasn't alone...

"Sir, are you sure about this one? She's not exactly what you'd call..."

"Are you questioning my taste or my judgment?"

"Uh, no sir. Its just that..."

Stephen looked at the guard as his voice trailed off into a mumbled apology. "This girl is adequate material. She may not have the looks or figure of a pleasure-slave but she'll make one hell of a house-slave AND she knows how to make a proper espresso! Besides, who knows, perhaps she'll scrub up really well." That brought a chuckle from one of the older, more experienced men. He returned to the hastily assembled profile. "Is this all you have on her - no school reports, no medical notes, very thin background research..." So she was called Alexa. Hmm, just turned eighteen ... living alone above a store - excellent! This was much more interesting than spending the whole day looking at Strategic Intelligence Systems! Funny how the girl's face kept interrupting his train of thought during meetings - must be boredom as she was certainly no sex kitten. Stephen closed the folder and looked up at one of the men. "I see you followed my instructions to the letter - Good. Your team is in place? What time is the collection?"

"Everything's set for 2 am Sir - the owner has been dealt with as you requested and we have her under constant surveillance." The older guard waited for further instructions.

"So ... we go tonight then. Have me collected in good time, please." The guard raised a questioning eyebrow. "Oh, I fancy joining the hunt this time - it's been a long while since I led a Snatch Squad. Besides, the girl ... amuses me." No, he suddenly realized - this slip of a girl actually intrigues me!

"But I don't understand..." Alexa gaped at her colleague in the general store. Mrs Khindria shrugged her shoulders and grinned back. "He's given me the night off and all this money!" She clutched the bundle of ten pound notes and read the badly scrawled letter again, still unable to believe what Mr Warren had apparently written.

"Young 'Lexa, nobody can understand that disgusting man - maybe it is guilt for how badly he is treating you. Now you go, you take the whole day off here too - I will cover for you. Go on, RUN girl!" She watched the elated young creature as she skipped happily out into the sunshine. You do not smile enough, she thought. You deserve more from life, little 'Lexa. Mrs Khindria had omitted to tell her young friend that her boss had been found behind the cafe in the early hours of the morning. He had been so badly beaten that the policeman thought every bone in his arms and legs were fractured. Why spoil her happiness with bad news ... or was it Karma that the girl's tormentor had been attacked and punished? She whispered a prayer of thanks to Maha Devi and asked the Mother Goddess to bless and protect Alexa - that poor white girl needed all the help she could get!

It was the best day she had experienced for as long as she could remember. Alexa had spent the morning shopping - not just wistfully looking at things she could never afford but actually handing over the cash and buying them! Oh, she was still careful though. There was enough for a new pair of sneakers, a little denim jacket, and a pair of gloves with a matching scarf for her aunt, the CD for her cousins and two mobile phones so Nikki and Julie could safely contact their mum any time! She surprised her disabled aunt by arriving with enough food for a delicious lunch and plenty for a big meal later. The afternoon slipped by helping with the housework. Then came the delight of watching her young cousins' faces light up with joy when they came in from school to their gifts. Alexa was sorry to leave in the evening but promised to return as soon as she could.

On the way home she had that funny feeling again, as if there was somebody watching her. But she didn't feel afraid - it was very strange because she felt safer than normal in the dark streets. Just ahead, she could see that poor old lady was still wandering aimlessly around in search of food and shelter. Alexa's heart sank - she always sneaked some of the unwanted cakes and sandwiches to give them to this pathetic creature but she hadn't been at the all-night cafe so had nothing for her. The old beggar-woman was shambling nearer - what could she give ... OH! Alexa took the last of the money she had been keeping to buy some chocolate and pressed the coins into her aged, outstretched hand. "Umm, its all I've got, sorry!" The old woman's face lit up like a delighted, innocent child and she gratefully babbled something in the crazy made-up language she was always muttering. Alexa smiled in sympathy and rushed homeward. Had she lingered, she would have been stunned to see the crippled old woman suddenly stand tall and proud, with a knowing, satisfied expression on her smooth regal brow as she watched her young benefactor disappear from view. Then she retreated into the nearest doorway to quietly observe the approaching men who were tracking the girl...

A tired but happy Alexa treated herself to a long shower and quickly got herself ready for sleep. As she curled up in bed with the new jacket cradled in her arms, she couldn't help smiling at the memory of Nikki and Julie whooping with delight when they opened their presents...

"Graham, be gentle with this one please. Make it a quick, clean capture." Now why did I feel the need to say all that? Stephen sat in the back of the limo and looked up at the unlit window of the girl's room. She's only going to be another slave, so why am I so interested? They're taking one hell of a long time ... no, they're doing it by the book because I am here - I should have left it to them and stayed at the Club.

She didn't hear them, didn't know they were standing over her bed, didn't realize her last few moments of freedom were gone for good...

... Pressing! Holding me down! My legs - can't get away ... my wrists being held HARD! Alexa mewed in shock and distress as a thick rubber mask covered her mouth and nose. She could hear the faint hissing of gas - she twisted her head but they were gripping her hair ... mustn't breathe in! M-mustn't ... C-CAN'T!...

But she HAD to inhale - the pain in her chest was too great. She looked up with desperate, imploring eyes into the face of the man who patiently held the mask firmly in place - he was smiling! In a sudden, ragged gasp, Alexa filled her lungs with the pungent antiseptic-smelling fumes then slipped out of consciousness even as she exhaled...