Chapter 23 - Sleeping Beauties taken

Pembroke and Dmitri cruised towards a small, secluded warehouse district on the European side of Istanbul. They knew it was the perfect spot where they could park the truck for hours without anyone snooping around, and it was quite close to Mr. Yildiz’s hotel.

Dmitri was instructed to stay in the truck while Pembroke made his way by taxi to his own hotel. He was reluctant to check out; he had loved the luxury and knew he would soon be back to hiding in a van with Dmitri in black jumpsuits. Even in the complex with its limitless sexual delights, the smell of sweat, sawdust, and metal was ever present.

He allowed himself to fantasize about if this operation went even better. He could live more like this, after all, was this not what it was all about?

His first port of call was to Mr. Yildiz’s hotel. The old man was delighted with the work he had seen, and his new guests were so happy it brought a tear to his eye to see their enthusiasm rather than the usual gritty backpackers and nefarious ne’er-do-wells he usually had.

Mr. Yildiz shook the hand of the smart Mr. Rahma, hoping this would be the start of a beneficial relationship. He trusted him much more than Mr. Kaya, who seemed to think of these guests as little more than cash cows.

“Mr. Rahma, I would like to make a donation to your charity,” Mr. Yildiz said, his old eyes shining at the tall gentleman. “And for payment for fixing those rooms. Please...”

He withdrew 500 US dollars from his jacket pocket and placed it in Rahma’s hand.

“Oh, Mr. Yildiz, please, this is too much! You must keep that for your hotel and your family. Please, the charity has enough, and you are doing enough.”

“But you have paid for the guests, and the repairs, and I feel I must owe something. Besides,” said Mr. Yildiz sadly, “this money had an unhappy origin for me. It was easy to come into, but I do not like to have it. I would feel blessed to know it had gone on to make the world a better place.”

Rahma reluctantly took the money, thanking the old man and promising it would be used for noble purposes.

Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and He will repay him for his deed,” smiled Rahma at the little old man.

Mr. Yildiz’s eyes gleamed with gratitude and satisfaction. Rahma, or Pembroke, pocketed the money. As he walked away, he smiled thinking that this unexpected bonus had just covered the cost of visiting Natalia and Tatiana.

Pembroke had other chores, including a shopping trip to carry out and an unexpected largesse to spend. He had been impressed by the electronics store he visited yesterday and decided to check it out again.

Once inside, Pembroke wandered through the aisles, appreciating the array of advanced gadgets and technology. He was pleased to see the same girl who had served him a few days earlier.

Zeynep Yildiz was back at work, swearing never to go back to escorting, for definite. Despite the summer heat, she was wearing a scarf around her neck, conservative trousers, and a jacket. It wasn’t just the newfound shame of having sold her body which had prompted her to be more conservative than normal. Her neck was now purple from the marks left by her last client, not to mention the rest of her body.

She had tried to hide it from her parents. She had been so distracted by the pain and efforts to hide her marks from her family as she went in and covered herself up and washed, that she had forgotten to hide the $500 Jack Harris had given her. Her mother found it in her handbag, curious and concerned about her daughter’s withdrawn and mysterious behavior after being out for just a few hours without an explainable reason. She had burst into the shower, terrifying her daughter with her anger, and upon seeing the marks all over her body, flew on her in a rage.

“You whore! You have been selling your body, where did you get that money? How did you get those marks on your neck?” Zeynep’s mother was aghast, seeing bruises and teeth marks on her daughter’s breasts, buttocks, and legs as well.

“I cannot believe you betrayed our family after all the work we did for you! You brought shame to this house, you whore!” She angrily threw the money into the shower, the notes soaking in the water. “You will leave this house!” her mother cried and screamed. She had long wondered how her daughter had paid for certain things; now she knew.

Zeynep slumped in the corner of the shower, gathering the soaking US dollars, moaning in despair. Her father would be even angrier; her life with her family would be over.

She had spent last night at her grandfather’s house. Tearfully, she had confessed everything to him. Her grandfather adored his granddaughter and was forgiving of her weakness. He believed her when she promised never to do it again and felt more anger toward the horrible man who had used and injured her than toward Zeynep’s desperate need for more money to avoid burdening her family.

She had spent last night at her grandfather’s house. Tearfully, she had confessed everything to him. Her grandfather adored his granddaughter and was forgiving of her weakness. He believed her when she promised never to do it again and felt more anger toward the horrible man who had used and injured her than toward Zeynep’s desperate need for more money to avoid burdening her family.

She had spent last night at her grandfather’s house. Tearfully, she confessed everything to him. Her grandfather adored his granddaughter and was forgiving of her weakness. He believed her when she promised never to do it again and felt more anger toward the horrible man who had used and injured her than toward Zeynep’s desperate need for money to avoid burdening her family.

“Thank you, Grandad,” Zeynep said, wiping away her tears. She pulled out the $500. “I don’t want this dirty money anymore.” The memory of Harris, the horrible American, throwing it on the ground next to her like she was a piece of meat made her feel sick. “Please, you take it.”

Her grandfather, his face filled with compassion and optimism, gently took the money from her. “Money is a tool, Zeynep. It can be used for good,” he said, his voice soothing. “We can turn this into something positive.”

Zeynep was grateful for her grandfather and was trying to stay positive. She resolved to concentrate on her studies and her honest job here, believing that everything would be all right with her family. Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on her work. From now on, she told herself, she would only make good choices.

“Ah, hello sir, are you looking for more spy equipment?” Zeynep smiled as she spotted the gentleman from a few days ago she had served. She noticed the mysterious tall man with dark wavy hair and glasses, who looked pleasantly surprised to see her again.

“Oh hello! Thank you for getting me those devices, they worked like a charm!” he grinned at her. “Maybe you can help me again?”

“I would be delighted to,” smiled Zeynep.

“Oh, hello! Thank you for getting me those devices; they worked like a charm!” he grinned, his eyes twinkling with charm. “I must say, you have quite the knack for these things. Perhaps you can assist me again?”

“I would be delighted to,” Zeynep smiled.

“I’m in need of voice recording sets that can be discreetly worn on a headset,” he paused, almost saying ‘collar.’ “They should record everything and transmit the data in real time to a central computer. Think you can help me with that?”

Zeynep nodded, intrigued. “We have just the thing. Follow me, please.” She led him to a section of advanced recording equipment.

“Can I ask what they are for?” Zeynep asked, feeling genuinely interested. It felt good to be in the company of professional, interesting people, unlike the clients from her escort work.

“This is going to be for an immersive theater project,” he explained with a charming smile. “We’ll have actors wear these headsets to record their dialogue and interactions in real time. This way, we can review and refine every aspect of the performance, ensuring the audience gets the most captivating experience possible.”

“Oh wow, I always wanted to be an actress ... well, I did some drama at school, but my parents insisted I study engineering, so that’s what I’m studying,” Zeynep blushed and giggled.

“I am sure you would be great. You are still young; you have so many options!” said Pembroke.

“Oh, thank you,” Zeynep blushed again and pulled at a strand of her hair.

They chatted further. Pembroke enjoyed the company of this elegant young woman, noting with interest that underneath her neck scarf, she seemed to have had a burn or bruising mark since he last saw her.

Zeynep took the payment for the headsets, which Pembroke was sure he could adapt to a secure neck collar, and took a deep breath. She may never see this man again. Why not take a chance?

“Well, if you ever need an actress for a small part ... I could help out,” she blurted, smiling apologetically.

“Oh, why thank you. Well, we are doing some things here in Turkey, and soon we will have projects up and running. I can bear you in mind ... why don’t I ... oh, I don’t have my cards...”

“Here, you can take my details,” said Zeynep, promptly and a little too eagerly.

“Oh, thank you,” Pembroke smiled and took her number and social media profile down on his phone. “My name is Edward Pembroke; perhaps we will meet again.”