Chapter 2

Oliver Desparu was dumb.

This was partly due to the fact that there was little schooling in Haiti, but mostly because he was born a dumb-ass.

Though dumb Oliver was big, and it was this size that made one of the low-life criminal gangs that controlled much of Port-au-Prince come a-calling. For much of his teenage years Oliver provided muscle to a gang called the Rouge Bears. Controlling their part of the Haitian capital was more appealing in theory than reality. Port-au-Prince was riven with such poverty that there was little of value to steal. Most people, Oliver included, spent their days getting as high as possible on cheap alcohol or drugs. Even sex was a brutal, grimy affair. Local gangsters were supposed to be able to maintain harems of locally-recruited sex slaves. However all the nice-looking local girls had left to – either to flee to the United States or to become whores of the high-ranking aid officials who hung around the city doing very little.

On the day of the quake Oliver was drunk as a skunk. To be honest the whole thing was a blur to him. Several hours later when he finally awoke Oliver staggered out into the dust-strewn streets to see the scenes of devastation. In a shocked daze he tried to find out what had happened to his fellow Rouge Bears and soon discovered that most of them were buried under masonry. No-one was making any effort to dig them out, and so nor did Oliver.

Days were hard after that. The simple task of finding bread and water took all of the day and frequently ended in disappointment. Even his bulk couldn't be relied upon to get his belly full as sheer desperation was driving anyone to fight him for even a hint of food. The Haitian police re-appeared in areas that they had been too frightened to tread in for years – and they appeared with a new trigger-happy mentality.

Oliver's life changed the day he was introduced to a man who knew a man who knew a much more important man. This last man had a plan, a plan to revive Haiti. He tried to explain it to Oliver but the big brute didn't pay much attention. That he was now once more in a powerful gang was enough to make him blissfully happy.

His new master kept Oliver busy with the sort of thuggish brutality that he could understand. And this new guy ordered a lot of murderous action Other action was also on the agenda – as when several other goons got the order to abduct and amuse themselves with a sweet little Canadian aid worker. Oliver hadn't been part of that operation, but he heard how much fun the dudes had enjoyed and was jealous.

So it was with a particular delight that Oliver found out he'd been chosen for another abduction. The target was another woman, an American staying at a hotel. Apparently she was some big-name Hollywood star called Jennifer Loves Something, though Oliver had never heard of her. His pal Denis had though – 'Grade A Hollywood pussy' was how he described her. Yum-Yum!

That night Oliver found himself pulling in a truck outside a posh hotel. With him were Denis, Louis and Renard. Renard was the leader of the group and close to the big boss. He had the mean look of someone who would kill someone was because he looked at you odd. Louis was the driver and stayed with the vehicle.

The guy on reception had been bribed to tell them the room number and to make himself scarce. Clever dude had also popped a sleepy-time pill into the evening drink of the bodyguard.

The hotel was quiet as the trio creeped towards the door. Renard knocked.

"Who is there?" came a voice from the other side. American female. Sounded young.

"Abduction squad," blurted out Oliver.

"What!?!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you, bro!" snarled Denis.

"But we is here to..." THWACK!

"Errr ... Missy Hewitt?" continued Renard, " It's ... err ... room service."

After a tense moment Oliver was relieved to see the door opening.

"Oh my God!" he gasped.

Nothing had prepared him for the vision of beauty now standing before him. Pretty face, long brown hair and tits. Tits thrusting thru her flimsy nightie that were so big they just had to be fake. Surely. But the throbbing of his dick seemed to confirm that they were real, and boy! Did he wanna taste 'em!

The sign that the woman was trying to shut the door was the catalyst that spurred the men to leap forward. Jennifer was knocked back onto her juicy ass and sprawled on the floor. Before she could rise Denis grabbed her ankle and Oliver was making for her wrist. Renard had taken his bottle of chloroform out of his pocket and was pouring some out onto a rag.

"What!?! No!!" she jabbered as the two men fought to contain her.

Oliver started laughing, which prompted Denis to get the giggles. Man those titties!

"Ooof!" gasped Oliver as Jennifer rammed her elbow into his belly.

With a ferocious kick she then sent her foot into Denis' chest, throwing him into Renard who spilled the bottle.