Chapter 1

Seafood! That’s my craving. And I know where to get the right dish. At the Waterfront. There’s a few of those places that specialise in seafood. I was not really that hungry, but just being near the sea, gave me that craving for something local.

It was not that long a flight and I had a few snacks on the way over. When flying, I always get that feeling of being somewhere with nothing to do but sit and stare at the flight instruments. Checking and rechecking all the displays while “Old George” keep flying the plane.

Yes, I could read a book or listen to music on my tablet. But that would distract me, and I might miss something and “Old George”, the autopilot, might lose its mind. It happened before. My fault. I had programmed the wrong frequency on the Flight management system. Just a decimal number out of sequence. An 8 instead of a 5. Finger fault, you know. “George” did not find the radio beacon and complained loudly. Gave me a jolt to have a screaming alarm vibrating through the cockpit. Ever since then I have been attentive and kept myself busy following the flight progress on the GPS and on the paper map next to me on the right-hand seat. Checking and rechecking the weather radar. Looking out the windows for tell tail signs of clouds that the weather radar could have missed.

By the way. I am Don Lambert, Thirty-eight years young. Had a girlfriend or two, but none that lasted more than a couple of months and none for the last two years or so. Not since the last one decided that her long lost high school flame was ‘IT’ and moved on. Oh, I do have friends. Male and female. The female friends are just that. Friends. (Not friends with benefits. Get your mind out of the gutter!)

I do have a degree in Computer Science with a double major in Information Technology and Accounting. Accounting got me to where I am comfortable, money-wise that is. But be as it may, I fly aeroplanes for a living and fun. More for fun than as for the money. You must understand that although the money is always welcome, I have saved a lot, and with some nice offshore investments that supply a steady income, it gets me to not live from the hand to the mouth. But enough about me. More will be revealed in the story.

So! I was at the Waterfront of this lovely city. Winding my way through the little alleys so typical of the Malls at the Waterfront. Ending up near the water’s edge with the seafood place just up ahead. There was but a few people about. Not the amount that usually grace these parts. Its Monday afternoon. Most people are still at work, or on their way home. The rush hour is still a little distant in the future.

In these southern latitudes, the sun is still way above the horizon despite the time of day. Most times during summer the sun will set about six forty- five to about seven fifteen PM, depending on the date in summer. Thus, leaving a lot of daylight hours after work stops at four, four thirty or five PM. I have on many occasions had the rare funny situation, where I would bring a friend here, wait until the sun sets over the sea and then asking them what time it is. Usually with a funny expression or unbelievable blank stare. One friend I asked what he would like for supper and he responded with: “Nope. Not yet. The sun is high in the sky and my biological clock say it’s not time yet”. Although it was seven ten PM!

A few people were strolling along. Mostly tourists, I presume. Most foreign Countries regard us as a perfect holiday destination, due to the fine weather, beautiful scenery, and the high exchange rate of our currency. Cheap holiday, while most of our population can’t afford the extravagant prices charged by the local industries “to exploit” the foreign market. While most foreign visitors enjoy the “low prices” the locals cannot. I overheard an American tourist saying: “ ... only a Dollar and a half for a beer! This is the land of milk and honey!” Yes. And if I take a million bucks to the good old U S of A, I get less than sixty-one thousand dollars. No wonder ours is a “cheap” holiday destination. Thank God I do not live in Venezuela. My good friend there tells me that their inflation rate is in the makings of 2000 %. I once wired him $500 and it cost me 8,320 bucks. Well with 8,000 bucks I can at least fill the planes tanks!

(But I am losing it now. Back to the story.)

I stroll along the water’s edge, looking at all the boats and ships tied up there. There’re fishing boats, trawlers, pleasure boats and some sailboats. One looks like a Nonsuch 36. Lovely boat. I was contemplating getting one as I could single hand sail it. Boats and planes. Sounds like a movie title. But I know what a Nonsuch 36 looks like. Maybe the only sailboat I will recognise.

I did notice two guys and a young girl sitting on a bench seat a little over to the right of me next to the water’s edge. They looked like most couples out for a bit of fresh air. I did not pay attention to them as I walked by. Maybe I should have paid attention, as one guy seemed a bit on edge and the girl looked like she doesn’t belong with them. The two guys also looked out of place compared to the girl. The guys were all tattoos and those goat beards things that is so in fashion these days. Gold chains and ear studs. The girl on the other hand looks clean. A little ruffled and ragged, but no tattoos despite her short skirt.

As I passed by the one guy got up and followed me. I stopped just short of the fish trawler moored up ahead and looked around. If he had ideas of robbing me, he will be in for a surprise. The guy came up to me with one hand casually stuck in his jeans pocket with the thumb just outside of the pocket seam. His other hand, his right hand, holding an unlit cigarette. Ok, he is right-handed. Let’s see where this leads. The other guy sitting with the girl kept close watch. Especially he closely watched the girl.

“Afternoon.” The first guy greeted “You don’t by any chance have a match with you?”

“Sure.” I replied, reaching into my own pocket, and taking out my Zippo.

“Thanks” he said as I lid his cigarette and he bend his face forward, drawing on the cigarette to light it.

Blowing out smoke he looked at me and said. “Nice weather we have. You from around here?”

“Nope. Just got into town an hour or so ago and looking for some Fish and Chips.” I replied without giving to much information. His next words had my antenna up.

“Well ‘Fish Wharf’ over there is good for a bite, but if you are looking for some company and a good time, I might have a proposition for you. See the lady over there, well, she’s for sale.”

“How’s she for sale?” I queried. Being a little more apprehensive and alert. The words did not match the average pimp trying to get his “lady” to render a service.

“For, say, a thousand macaroni’s she is yours.” he stated flatly, drawing on his cigarette.

“How’s she’s mine?” I said, playing dumb.

“As I said. A thousand macaroni’s. And she’s yours. To keep. Until you get tired of her and sell her to some other guy looking for fun.” He flatly stated, not looking at me, but rather out to sea.

“I ... I don’t keep that much cash on me.” I said turning to look at the girl sitting slumped on the bench. She looked young. Slender. Long red hair in disarray. She could be anything from fifteen to twenty. Dressed in an off-white t-shirt and faded, rather short, denim skirt. The flip flops on her feet have seen better days.

“Anyway, she doesn’t look healthy. She is too thin and ... she looks young” I replied, turning back to the sleaze-ball standing there next to me.

“OK. OK. Give me eight hundred. My final offer.” He was nervously drawing on the cigarette stuck between his lips. I now knew two things. One, the girl was there against her will and two, this guy was obviously trying to get rid of her very fast. So, I played my last card.

“Five Hundred. Or I walk away!”

“OK. Five hundred. I’ll take five hundred cash.” He said, looking a little relieved. I turned away from him and took five one hundred notes out of my wallet, showing it to him. The five hundred bucks would not bankrupt me. I thought that I needed to get the girl away from them very soon. He stuck his hand out. I withdraw mine, nodding my head in the direction of the girl. He signalled with his hand towards the two on the bench. The other sleaze-ball got up from the bench and pulled the girl up by her arm. I saw the look of pain on her face.

Sleaze-ball number two pushed the girl towards sleaze-ball number one. Things happened very fast then. I pushed the cash towards sleaze-ball one and caught the girl with my left hand as she stumbled forward. The two sleazy entrepreneurs turned and walked away fast. I somewhat expected the girl to follow them, but looking down at her, I saw a flash of fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

“Don’t ... Don’t hurt me mister. Please.” She stammered. Trembling like a reed in the wind.

“Sit down.” I told the girl and steered her over to the bench she just vacated. She just walked beside me and then sat down somewhat slowly with a slight sharp intake of breath. I sat down next to her. She sat there not looking at me. Her hands folded in her lap.

“Don’t be afraid. I will help you. I know what is happening here. I will not hurt you.” I said. “You can get up now and walk away and I will not stop you, but I want you to know you can trust me to help you.” She looked up.

“I am free to go. Where shall I go? I have no place to stay.” she said. I could see she was very traumatised. Moisture shining in her eyes.

“My name is Don.” I said softly, knowing that I need to get her to relax. She was sitting there shivering despite the warm summer afternoon. Yes, it is still afternoon.