Chapter 11

Most people ignored the girl who stumbled unsteadily along the sidewalk. Others openly stared at her bloodstained clothes and matted hair. Nobody offered to help.

Alexa's headache was getting steadily worse. The bright headlights of the cars hurt her eyes and she felt as though she was going to throw up all the time. A yellow cab skidded and swerved at the last minute, missing her by inches. "Out of the way! Ya stoopid doped-up bitch!" The driver raged at her but she couldn't hear the words - sounds were so distant as though she was in a tunnel. She just kept on walking across the road, making other cars veer and the drivers sound their horns in fury. Alexa wandered aimlessly in the unfamiliar streets, trying to judge distances and not to trip on the kerb, and eventually slumped against a wall in an alleyway. Several young girls were hanging around the corner and they glared at her as she tried to stay upright. She was so tired, so sleepy and her head felt like it was going to explode but somehow knew that if she closed her eyes she might never wake again.

"Gina, who's the fuck-head broad over there?" One of the girls shouted to her colleague who was nearest to Alexa.

The raven-haired girl eyed Alexa up and down. Gina was provocatively dressed in shiny hotpants, a tight bikini and impossibly high white stiletto sandals. "Well, she aint gonna steal no tricks from me! Hey, sister - watsa big ... uhh gawd, watsa matter with ya?" The Latino girl peered closer, beginning to realize something was terribly wrong with this stranger. "Geez! Did ya get worked over by a john or did ya pimp give ya a beating, hon?"

Alexa tried to focus on the double image of the young woman. Ohh my head, my head! It was so very peculiar - all the sound had stopped. And the ground was coming up towards her face so fast - how strange!

Gina crouched down next to the crumpled form of the young girl then gasped as she saw the dark clotted mass of bloodied hair at the back of her head. This girl had been hurt bad - it didn't look like no punishment beating. Maybe she'd been mugged? As she tried to rouse the stranger, some cops suddenly arrived at the entrance to the alleyway. A cop she knew very well was calling out in a bored voice. "Okay ladies, you know this aint the place for cruisin' - you gotta come down the station for violating city ordinances." Gina shrank into the darkness as the other girls were led away, protesting their innocence loudly to anyone who was interested. The familiar cop shone a torch light at her and then on the semi-conscious girl who was trying to get up. ''Hell, Gina, '' he sighed. ''You're gonna end up in real trouble dressed like that on the streets.

Look, why don't you get your friend fixed up and go home?'' Gina had a sharp, obscene reply ready for him but bit back her retort when she saw who he was and the sadness in his eyes. She knew this guy. Martinez, yeah - Mike Martinez and he was okay ... for a cop.

The officer shook his head and turned away. No point in getting the wagon all messed up by a sick hooker. And he hated the thought of having to bust Gina - she just needed a break to straighten herself out. He allowed himself a wry smile - she looked damn hot in those pants too, the way that zipper was riding in deep between her ... quit fooling yourself, man! She despises you - you're just another pain-in-the-ass cop as far as she's concerned. Anyway, the whole exercise was pointless. These chicks would all be back on the streets within hours of their release, even more desperate to make up for lost business and to avoid the violent wrath of their pimps. He pitied them but he felt angry too for poor Gina. They had lived in the same tenement block when he was a rookie. He remembered her blossoming from a gawky kid into a stunning beauty. She'd been a good kid too until her shit-bag of a brother had 'sold' her to pay off his crack debts. The cop sighed again. So much for this fuckin' 'Zero Tolerance' bullshit from City Hall...

Gina sighed with relief. At least this sick girl had made the cops leave her alone. Maybe officer Martinez was right bur she had to do tricks to pay off her debts and college fees ... and now she could work her street corner without any competition! She sauntered back towards the sidewalk, emphasizing the sway of her hips and began to look for her next 'customer'. She paused and turned back. The girl on the ground just sat there. Forget her - what the hell do I care anyway? A car slowed. The expression on the john was so typical - a mixture of lust and guilt as he hungrily eyed her body like a piece of meat. She put on her best plastic smile and seductively gyrated her ass as she moved towards the open car window. For some crazy reason she looked behind her one last time. Shit! SHIT! That kid was slumped down again and this time she wasn't moving.

"Hey lady - are yer gonna stand there all fuckin' night or are yer open fer business?" The john sounded from out of town and nervous as hell, like he wasn't used to picking up a city working girl.

Gina swung back round and sneered in contempt at him. "Aww go screw yaself, country boy!" The guy frowned then drove off. Shit! SHIT! What in HELL did I do THAT for? She could have stung him for more than the going rate! Gina cursed again and ran back as fast as her stilettos would allow. "Hon, ya okay? Hey, talk to me! Oh fuckin' shit! Hey there, HEY!"

Master Charles watched the older man pour out the coffee. He cleared his throat. "I believe you wanted to see me about a certain young creature?"

"That all Alexa is to ya - a CREATURE?" Armando could barely contain his anger. "She's a fine person, an angel who got no wings - she's no piece of property or animal to be bought and sold!"

Master Charles did not immediately reply after the old Italian's outburst. How on earth could such an insignificant slave have caused so much disruption to his ordered life? He had better things to do than listen to this! "You have no idea what is involved, Mister Forte. Alexa belongs to me."

"Yeah, I read her diary." Armando slammed the notebook on the table. "I know what ya people are, what it is ya done to her! Alexa's been forced into slavery, ya nearly kill her and now she's goin' half crazy trying to survive in this city while she has to prove HER loyalty! Ya treat her WORSE than a damn animal!" He threw the cash down next to the notebook. "See how she even saves to pay ya goddam money all back? She goddam LOVES ya and ya don't wanna know!" He turned away. "Ya people make me sick!"

Master Charles sighed. Security had briefed him about this Armando Forte before their meeting. Were it not for the fact that Alexa was involved, master Charles would never have come to this run-down bistro in Little Italy. "I am aware of what you think of me ... and of how much you think you know about us." He paused, watching the expression change on the old man's face. "The only reason you and I are speaking and that you have not been 'cleaned' is your pivotal role in caring for my little Alexa..."

Armando chose to ignore the thinly veiled threat. "Why do ya hurt her - she loves ya so much!"

"Do you think I don't know that? Why on earth do you think I'm here?"

Armando leaned back and frowned at this clean-cut man. "So ya DO care for her?" There was no reply and none was needed.

"Where is she? Was she here when you shot that thief? Was she ... is she injured?"

"I never shot nobody last night - SHE did! That sweet kid saved my LIFE!" The man opposite him stared at him in amazement. "And yeah, she hit her head real bad. Knocked herself out cold when she fell. I tried to stop her leaving but she ran off when the cops came. I thought maybe she comes back but..."

This was worse than master Charles had feared. Alexa was missing in New York - without possessions, with no money, and possibly in urgent need of medical attention. Damn! I should have had the girl discreetly monitored from the outset! "Contrary to what you may think, she means a lot to me. If she returns, please contact us immediately."

Armando eyed him for a moment. "What if Alexa don't want back no more?"

"What do you mean?"

"How much?"

Master Charles was puzzled. "I beg your pardon?"

"How much she worth - I buy her and set her free!"

Master Charles looked around the poorly decorated room. "You could never afford her. Besides, it is out of the question - my little slave is not for sale." This old man was actually serious! What was it about Alexa that affected people so much? This was getting him nowhere. He stood up, pocketed Alexa's notebook but left the money on the table. "Just call me if she returns ... please."

Master Charles' mind was in turmoil. Alexa had behaved admirably and strived to make him proud of her. And in return, he had placed her in danger in a hostile, unfamiliar city. Oh Stephen, my old friend, I have been a damn FOOL! But this had all gone far enough. He wanted her back NOW. Picking up the phone in the limo, he called his office. "I want slave 763389 ... my personal slave Alexa ... found urgently. Use our contacts in NYPD. Check the hospitals too. This is top priority - understand? I want everybody available on this IMMEDIATELY!" He thought furiously - Miller had excellent contacts with the various factions of the New York underworld. He would send for him from the Ranch. For all his faults, Miller was an excellent hunter and had tracked many new recruits for submission.

Armando's hands shook as he ran his fingers through his thinning hair. The meeting with Alexa's 'owner' had upset him more than he realized. Oh Lucia, what should I do - call the cops? No, they might be a part of this 'Organization' - Alexa's story seemed so far-fetched at first but it all figured. That guy she called her master was obviously very powerful ... and well connected. Well, Armando had connections of his own. He closed up Lucia's Kitchen and painfully hobbled several blocks to a bar. The arrogant youth blocking his path to the back room demanded to know his business. "My business is with your boss, not with his hounds!" The youth reacted angrily to the deliberate insult. "Ya tell him Armando is calling in a favor. Tell him that Sergeant Forte is remembering 1945 and a debt."

The youth looked confused. "If you think I'm gonna waste his valuable..."

"Just tell him - is a FAMILY matter, okay? Ya boss's gonna be mighty pissed if ya DON'T tell him - CAPISCHE?" Cheeky pup! Armando limped back to his apartment to wait.

Zia shrieked again but not so strongly or for as long. Miller moved the prod back towards her breasts. She couldn't take much more - every time she fainted, he brought her round and continued the torture. The bitch kept on babbling away in her own tongue - she didn't know a word of English but he knew what she meant. The Afghani was screaming curses at him, screaming in pain, screaming for mercy ... what the fuck did it matter what language she used. Miller liked a girl's screams - sort of an 'international language'! The tongs and pokers were heating nicely. She was just about softened up for the real fun - oh you're a clever bastard Mister Miller, make no mistake! Perfect timing as usual and not a mark on her yet ... well, the cuffs had chafed her wrists and ankles until they bled but you can't have everything! He lazily moved the tip of the probe down between her shaking breasts, over her belly, and down to the top of her pussy lips. Hmmm, not quite full current, maybe we try a perfect 100 volts?