Chapter 2

The heat of the Nigerian sun assailed Hilary Irvine as soon as the blonde Englishwoman exited the plane. An oppressive heat that momentarily rendered her breathless. Her heart was pounding, partly from the heat but mostly from trepidation - she just didn't want to be here.

For a time it had seemed that Africa didn't want her either. It had taken a week to get her visa approved and Hilary had hoped her trip wouldn't take place at all. Then the bliming thing had turned up and off she'd gone.

Hilary descended the steps and along with the rest of the passengers headed towards the terminal building of Lagos International Airport.

Once inside she was surprised to be ordered into a side room to have her luggage searched. In a way this was pleasing - Hilary Irvine was not the sort of girl who wanted to be treated as some sort of celebrity but as just another passenger who would expect to have their bags searched.

That she was not just another passenger became apparent as soon as she entered the side room. Whereas the rest of the passengers were waved thru by one bored guard Hilary was to be grilled by four, all male and worryingly pleased to see her.

"Welcome to Lagos!" grinned the leader of the four, "I hopes yo don't mind been searched?"

"Well ... no ... of... ,"

"Goody! Lets start with the suitcase!"

"Is yo traveling alone?" drawled another guard, moving round behind

Hilary and checking out her butt.

His tone irritated Hilary. Damned cheek!

"Dese is nice!" said the leader holding up a pair of panties to a murmur of appreciation.

To Hilary's disgust he then stuck his nose in them and breathed in deeply.

"No drugs dere!"

"Of course not!" said the exasperated blonde, "Do I look like a drugs smuggler!"

"Smugglers come in all shapes n' sizes," a third guard said sagely.

"And dey is hiding drugs in de strangest places!"

"Right!" barked Hilary who just had this image of been stripped, spread-eagled and subjected to an intimate search by these morons,

"that's enough!"

The men were stunned by her sudden commanding tone. A feisty blonde white woman had featured in all of their sex fantasies but been confronted by one in flesh was a different matter entirely.

Taking advantage of their evident confusion Hilary snatched her knickers back, slammed down the lid of her suitcase and stormed out.

The main part of the terminal was crowded with all sorts of humanity.

Though as she walked thru the bustling thong it struck Hilary that lone white women were a rarity - just her in fact. People were looking at her like she was some oddity or exotic specimen.

"Good day, Missy!" said a black man in a ghastly multi-colored shirt,

"Needs help wiv yo bag?"

His tone and smile were friendly. Too friendly.

"I'm fine, thank you!" replied Hilary, moving a little quicker.

"Howdy!" said another younger African moving in front of her, "here on holiday?"

"No," said Hilary irritably, "Please move!"

"If the lady needs a well-hung black boy to keep her warm I is it!"

This made Hilary stop and stare for a moment, then she moved off again.

"If lady likes more I had got cousin!" he called after her, "We make lady nice spit-roast, Lagos style!"

"Sling your hook, you kaffir!" growled a voice off to the right.

As the man slunk off Hilary looked to see who had warned him off.

Standing there was a barrel-chested white man, bronzed with graying hair.

"You're Irvine?" he grunted in a strong South African accent.

As a very young schoolgirl her elder sister had taken Hilary to an anti-apartheid protest. Since then the sound of a male Boer caused her to bristle.

"Indeed!" she replied, trying to smile sweetly, "Who are you?"

"Gunther van Eyck," he stated in reply, "I'm the guy who will be guarding your sweet little arse!"

This response caused the bristles to rise again.

"I thought I would be protected by British people?"

This clearly irritated the big Boer.

"Don't worry, your ladyship," he sneered, "The rest of my men are all ex-redcoats ready to stop the Zulu bucks getting their hands on your fat tits!"

Though she wasn't sure entirely what this meant Hilary felt some reassurance. Together she and van Eyck made their way out of the airport, van Eyck's gun in his leg holster deterring any salacious approaches.

"You should be grateful we're here to meet you," muttered the Boer,

"Last week some Yank air hostess made the mistake of going to the toilet by herself. Three days later they found her gang-banged carcass out back getting chewed by rats!"

Hilary ignored his fictions. She was used to van Eyck's type. Those men who resented her as a woman working in a man's world.

Van Eyck's transport was a massive 4x4 beast with 3 men inside. They had the lean, professional look of the ex-military man. All three were armed.

Hilary's luggage was thrown in the back and then they were off thru the chaotic streets of Lagos. The whole world seemed to be trying to move - cars, trucks, overloaded buses, bikes and even flocks of squealing animals. The dust-strewn scene had a vibrancy that Hilary found invigorating.

"Take that you black bastard!"

The driver had just sent a cyclist sprawling off the road and clearly

Every male in the 4x4 found this highly amusing.

"That's your third today, Marky!"

Hilary put her head in her hands. This was terrible. In her experience

(given her refusal to pay bribes) the only way she'd get some information in Africa was to be friendly and make contacts. Doing that when accompanied by these gun-toting racists would be well nigh impossible.

Soon they roared into their hotel and Hilary was pleasantly surprised to see it was an impressive colonial-era structure with neatly manicured lawns. Inside a large fan cooled the polished floors. The receptionist was a cheerful soul and Hilary made an effort to show some gratitude for his attention.

Hilary's room was decorated in a simple, tasteful style with a view over the city. One of the British guards dumped her bags on the double bed while van Eyck checked the locks on the windows. He sniffed when he saw the double bed.

"If your ladyship wants some overnight protection I'm sure one of my men will be more than happy to be of service!"

The others found this very funny and sniggered until Hilary barked at them all to get out.

Now alone Hilary took out the file containing everything that was known about Suzi's disappearance.

'Now for some proper journalism!'

Upon arriving Suzi had booked into this very hotel. Less than two hours later she'd received a phone call from someone claiming to be the governor of the province of Katgina. Hilary checked the map - Katgina was over 300 miles north of Lagos. After this call Suzi had rushed down to reception, hired a car and drove off.

'Too keen for a scoop, ' thought Hilary.

At a junction fifty miles from Lagos a witness saw several men wearing police uniforms stop Suzi's car. They'd made her get out, there was a brief struggle and then poor Suzi had been bundled into an unmarked car that had sped off north.

Since then, and this was almost two weeks ago, nothing had been heard.

There appeared to be several lines of enquiry and as Hilary went over them in her the phone rang...

The four men were all at breakfast when Hilary joined them early the next day.

One of them was holding forth on what him and one of the chambermaids had been up to the previous night.

"Real cock-gobbler she is! And tits like a cow's udders!"

As far as Hilary was concerned talking like this in front of the hotel staff was not only rude but crassly unhelpful. She swiftly moved the conversation onto the search for Suzi.

"If you ask me," opined van Eyck chomping on some bacon, "Our best bet is to see if she'd working on the stage at one of these sex clubs Lagos is famous for."

Hilary was flabbergasted. This was one of the most inane things she'd ever heard.

"Suzi has a degree in journalism and works as a reporter for the BBC," she said, "Do you really think she'd give that up to work as a go-go dancer in a strip-joint?"

Van Eyck started to say something but Hilary brusquely waved him away.

"I have had a phone call," she announced smugly, "The Governor of

Katgina province has granted me an interview. He wants to show me how the search is progressing in his area!"

Her competency evidently shocked them into silence. Eventually one of the Brits spoke up.

"Are you sure it was really the Governor?"

Hilary was ready for this.

"Indeed! I hung up and then got the reception desk to return the call.

It was from his office all right!"

She was rather pleased at her cleverness. If Suzi had been that clever this problem wouldn't have started.

"Katgina!" spat van Eyck, "That's a shithole in the middle of nowhere!

Nah! If a white girl is been held captive somewhere the bars of Lagos is where we'll hear about it! Me and the boys'll look around and bang some heads-"

"I have a meeting with a powerful local official!" stormed Hilary, "All you seem to want to do is hang around strip-joints and bars! Well fine! But I'm leaving for Katgina in 30 minutes!"

Van Eyck didn't like the idea but didn't stop her going, though he did insist that one of his men, a man named Winters, drove her there.

Like the man who had driven from the airport Winters drove fast. Too fast for safety Hilary thought, but she was too sour to say anything.

This sourness had been caused by what one of the men had yelled at

Winters as they boarded the 4x4.

"Looks like you have first crack at her!"

Hilary had shot a glance at Winters whose only response had been an embarrassed smile.

'Jeez!' thought Hilary, 'They're taking bets on who'll be first to bed me!'

As the vehicle sped along the dusty road Hilary had ruminated on this.

Their lust wouldn't be satisfied, that much was sure. And not because of Hilary's refusal. Sooner or later Samuel Mbonga would slide into view and blackmail his way into her bed. Seeing that she was working with four white men made that a certainty. The sounds of her noisily making love (and Samuel would make sure it was noisy) to a black African would extinguish any desire they had for her - and probably destroy any vestige of respect.

Katgina was further away than Hilary had believed. It was late afternoon before their 4x4 rolled up outside the Governors' residence - a ramshackle colonial building clearly in need of some restoration.

Winters seemed concerned that there were several uniformed men hanging round ostentatiously playing with their AK-47s.

The foyer was full of people universally afflicted with an air of laziness. Soldiers and civilians, men and women all loitered.

A soldier showed Hilary into the Governor's office. At her suggestion

Winters waited outside.

Hilary seated herself and with the soldier standing silently behind her waited.

As she did so Hilary's eye wandered to the wall on her left. This was covered with photographs all of which featured a formidable-looking middle-aged black man meeting various dignitaries and even some celebrities.

After enough time had passed for Hilary to wonder if she had been forgotten about the rear door opened and in walked the man in the photos.

'This must be him' thought Hilary, as she looked at the powerfully-built man in the dark gray suit. He was about forty with graying hair at his temples.

"Good-day Mr. Governor!" she said cheerily.

"You may call me Umbatu," said the man quietly, his stern features showing not a hint of welcome.

The door opened again. This time Hilary recognized the person entering.

"Samuel!" she exclaimed, then recovered her poise to add,

"How nice to see you again!"

"Missy Hilary!" grinned Samuel, "I is so pleased yo is here!"

"You are better-looking in real-life than you appear on the television," intoned Governor Umbatu, in a matter-of-fact voice. "Quite attractive ... for a white woman."

"Yes indeedy!" laughed Samuel to Hilary's unease, "Missy Hilary is one good-looking lady!"

Hilary found the men's manner rather rude. She didn't care to be judged just on her looks. The Governor seemed much more polite on the phone.

She would have said something if the next thing the Governor if it wasn't for what he said next.

"Good-looking ... but dumb!"

Swiftly followed by;

"Seize her!"

As Hilary rose from her chair the silent soldier moved forward and grabbed her arm.

"What the-!"

BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!

Hilary was experienced enough to know gunfire when she heard it.

"What's happening?" she gasped.

"Lets go see!" responded Samuel.

Samuel and Umbatu went out into the lobby, followed by Hilary still in the grip of the soldier. The room was considerably less crowded than before.

"Oh my God! NO!" gasped a shocked Hilary.

There, lying on his front was Winters. The back of his head was missing and there were two blood patches on his back. Beneath him a mass of blood slowly grew. Behind where he had been sitting were three grinning soldiers, posing with their smoking pistols.

Umbatu turned to Hilary, reached out one of his big hands and snatched off her St Christopher necklace. While Hilary's mind struggled to grasp the situation he took hold of her wrist and removed her watch and bracelet.

At Umbatu's grunt another soldier approached.

"Take these," he said in his deep voice, "Go to the prison and find a woman the same size as this," he jabbed a finger at Hilary, "Put these on her. Then kill her. Put the body and that of the white man in their vehicle. Push it down a ravine. And make sure it catches fire."

"This is an outrage!" gasped a horrified Hilary.

Umbatu ignored her stomped and outside, followed by Samuel and the soldier with the struggling blonde.

"You won't get away with this!" she persevered, "People know I came here!"

If Umbatu were taking the slightest notice it would have been better.

Instead Hilary gave the impression of been a yapping poodle.

Once outside in the bright sunshine two vehicles pulled up. The first was a battered jeep into which Umbatu hopped in and it sped off. The second vehicle was a stretched white limousine, utterly out of place here in the heart of Africa. Hilary was bundled into the back while

Samuel went round the other side. The interior was a roomy 12 foot long with seats at the back and lining the sides. Hilary was sat in the middle of the back seat - the soldier on her left and Samuel on her right. Another soldier came in behind Samuel and sat in one of the side seats, AK-47 pointed at Hilary.

With a crash of gears the lumbering vehicle moved off.

"You pig, Samuel!" seethed Hilary, "You sold me out!"

"Indeedy!" replied the South African, "For quite a pretty penny!"

As he spoke he lit a cigarette. A cheap brand, noticed Hilary.

"I met de Governor at a conference in Bulawayo," he continued, "Many dudes there wanted yo killed!" then he paused before correcting himself,

"Actually many dudes there wanted yo fucked and then killed."

He puffed on his cancer stick before continuing.

"De Governor said howdy-do and said he knew dat I knew yo. I tells yo ol'Samuel almost shat his pants then and there!" he chuckled at the memory, "But all he wanted was to nail yo himselfs like. I said I'd help. Then I is meeting Missy Suzi," He winked, "Made a plan. And here yo is!"

Mention of Suzi's name jolted Hilary.

"Suzi?" she asked, "Is she... ?"

"Dead?" said Samuel finishing her question, "Lets just say yo is about to experience what she did!"

'Poor Suzi!' thought Hilary.

As it seemed obvious that she was been taken somewhere to be murdered

Suzi must be dead. Hilary hoped the poor girl had died quickly.

But from what she'd seen thus far Hilary knew she hadn't. If Suzi was dead she died a long agonizing demise.

Too angry to talk to Samuel any more Hilary looked ahead. It was possible to see out thru the driver's windscreen to where Umbatu's jeep sped ahead. Bizarrely he seemed constantly moving, in contrast to his earlier stoic persona. As Hilary watched she noticed the Governor manically waving at every passer-by, even blowing kisses at women and babies. All his efforts had little effect as hardly anyone bothered to respond.

After about 30 minutes the two vehicles turned off onto an even worse dirt-track. The heavy limo couldn't cope with the potholes and the passengers in the back were jolted and bumped about in a way that under any other circumstances Hilary would have found comical. Worsening her mood was the realization that the soldier sitting in the side seat had his eyes fixed on her bosom. As she heaved in response to yet another pot-hole he licked his big Negroid lips in unison.

After an interminable 20 minutes Hilary espied a structure on the road ahead. A guard tower and a wire fence suggested it was some sort of military camp. As the limo swept in thru the gates Hilary took in a group of boxy wooden buildings on her right, round to an area full of dirty jeeps, trucks and bikes, then ahead a stone church. The dilapidated state showed that it no longer had any religious use.

Clustered around the buildings were about two dozen African men in military fatigues.

Isolated on the left was a small bell-shaped hut, around 20 meters wide with a large wooden door.

Ominously the small windows appeared to have iron bars.

It was outside this hut that the limo pulled up, the engine dying with a relieved wheeze. Just ahead was parked Umbatu's empty jeep.

Hilary was yanked out of her seat into the open. The sight of her blonde head provoked an instant reaction from the milling men who all sauntered over to check her out.

The big wooden door of the hut swung open and out walked Umbatu. With an expectant look he stared at the assembled troops who dutifully broke into applause.

'Clearly he likes to be liked, ' thought Hilary, not liking him much herself.

"Be careful, Missy Hilary!" hissed Samuel as he walked past, "Best not to let de Governor knows we have been intimate-like!"

This was an interesting development. Samuel was clearly worried about something. Though Hilary couldn't for the life of her see how pointing at Samuel and yelling "That guy fucked me!" would prove helpful.

Umbatu milked the unenthusiastic acclaim of his men for longer than was seemly then turned to face back into the hut.

"Out!" he barked with a vicious snarl.

Nothing happened for a moment and then someone emerged from the hut.

She was white, she was crawling and she was naked. Hilary gasped in horror as the woman crawled over to where Umbatu stood.

"Please master," the women said in a tired, beaten voice, "How may I serve your cock today?"

"Suzi!" gasped Hilary as she finally recognized the owner of the short brown hair and big swaying boobs.

At the sound of her name Suzi turned slowly. As her eyes met those of her friend she gave a sob and dissolved into tears.

"You monster!" screamed Hilary, struggling to shake off the grip of the soldier who held her.