by Sandra Raine
'Unprepared to become a wet-nurse, I sent out word to the US and abroad to see if anyone would be interested in caring for you until I was ready to summon for you. At that time Alexander Parker was small time and mainly into investment and banking. I mean, it wasn't like he didn't know his way around the sex and trafficking trade as he, too, possessed a few girls yet it was he who had grabbed wind of my situation. And because his wife CeCe was unable to conceive, Mr. Parker contacted me. We set up a meeting. Made an agreement. And the agreement was three million to your father, with you twelve years in his care, then you returning to me unharmed. But unfortunately that wasn't the case nor the agreement for your so-called father, now was it, Jane?" Mr. K then stole a touch from my hair as if trying to console the harrowing expression that suddenly overwhelmed my face.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" I snapped, jerking my head back.
"I never had any intention of harming you in that way." Mr. K continued to console. "My intentions for you were strictly good. Innocent. Meaning, a better life than the mother who abandoned you in my cargo. A fruitful life than the one who was supposed to be protecting you instead of harming you. Even perhaps a daughter for me. Someone to have, to love, to cherish. Something that was never presented to me as a child myself."
"I'm not this girl you're referring, too, Mr. K. Nor am I an orphan. I have a father. A mother, a sister and a brother - "
"He would have you believing that." Mr. K chastised.
"Pft! And why should I believe you when you've only walked into my life not more than fifteen minutes ago when my family has been in mine since forever?"
"And why should you believe a man who profits from you muchless a man who calls himself your father? Much to ponder there, wouldn't you agree, Jane?"
"So you're saying that the family I have isn't my family at all?" I sassed, well, rather bluffed.
"Unfortunately no."
I think it was the genuine in Mr. K's confidence that ultimately led me to believe he was speaking the truth. I mean, not once did his tone shift, nor did he rile in his seat nor did his eyes wander from mine; Mr. K never defaulted from his disposition, and that alone was enough to convince me.
"Oh, God," I muttered in absolute disbelief. "My God!" I gasped trying hard not to breakdown that is until something else had grasp my emotions and just about tore me apart: "So Doug and Breanna - "
"Your siblings," Mr. K quickly intervened, "unfortunately they are not. Both Breanna and Douglas were purchased in a black market sting now long gone."
"So you're saying that Breanna is a. . .was a. . .stolen baby?"
"Some people are known for selling, others are known for buying. So to answer your question - yes."
"Jesus Christ!" I bellowed beneath a pained whisper. "So you're saying that my. . .that my parents. . .I mean, Alexander and CeCe bought both Breanna and Doug?"
"I'm sorry, Jane, but that is the truth." Mr. K said, stirring in his seat a bit. Either he was lying, or he, too, felt pained having to answer that question.
"And so you sold me. . .to them?"
"I never sold anything to your father other than a young girl or two. That I'm guilty of."
"So knowing all this. . .about my fa. . .I mean, Mr. Parker, you still went ahead and put me in his hands knowing he was sick. . .a pedophile. . .a child rapist?"
"I wasn't prepared to loose you to the system, Jane."
"But don't you think I would have been better off?"
"I was naive, looking to profit and expand at the time. Not to become a parent."
"And now it's to late, right?"
"I can only begin to apologize so much - "
"I think instead of an apology I would have preferred you to have slit my throat and fed me to the sharks than to have put me in the very hands of a sadistic monster."
"I hear that's what he's become. So let me elaborate further: I've just recently learned that Mr. Parker and his longtime associate, Mr. Ray, have organized a huge auction to take place somewhere east in February.-"
"An 'auction'?"
"Yes. An auction of new girls stemming as far as Brazil, the Western Sahara, Ukraine, Mongolia, Australia - "
"You mean. . .sex slaves?"
"Yes."
"And why should this information be of any importance to me if I'm not part of what that asshole does?"
"Please do not consider yourself un-expendable, Jane, you'll only insult Mr. Parker muchless me."
"Are you saying that my fa. . .that Mr. Parker plans on putting me up for auction?"
"Well, Jane," Mr. K sighed with partial sympathy, "you haven't exactly been a doting and obedient daughter, per se. It is to my great understanding that Mr. Parker has a very short fuse. . .A businessman, you could say, that doesn't bargain unless it benefits him. And selling you benefits him. I mean, think about it? What do you do with a problem when it becomes to great to handle?"
Oh, dear God. "You get rid of it." I mustered, sucking back my embarrassment and swallowing that bubble of pride that had gathered previously in my throat.
"Smart girl."
"So. . .you're saying that I'm. . .expendable?"
"Yes but you can avoid that."
"How?"
"By showing Mr. Parker how expendable you are and getting me to him undetected."
"Wait! What the hell are you suggesting? That I should just grin and bare it and go back home?"
"Actually, I was suggesting that you find the location of the auction."
"And how am I going to do that exactly if I'm miles away from him?"
"By picking up the phone and telling Mr. Parker that you're going back home."
"You must be out of your fucking mind, Mister! My fa. . .Mr. Parker. . .that man will give me hell to pay if I dare go back!"
"And you think I can't give you any of that now? Mr. Parker may presume himself to be a very powerful man, Jane, but make no mistake, I supersede him in ways that would make the Devil himself cringe in his own fucking flesh!"
"Look, Mr. K, I don't mean to offend you - "
"Then don't!" he bellowed coercing me to flinch, coercing Jonah and the other unnamed associate to stand at attention. "Now," Mr. K said gathering his emotions, "What you're going to do is quite simple: You're going to go back to your motel room, pick up the phone, tell Mr. Parker that you're going back home for whatever reason deemed necessary. Now, I don't expect for Mr. Parker to receive you with open arms so what happens to you at that point is going to be up to you to neutralize no matter how enraged he becomes; no matter what he decides for you at that moment. Again, it's going to be up to you. Now Jonah is going to give you a series of numbers to memorize - absolutely no paper trail. You will then call that number after you've learned of the location. I will make my move then."
Oh, God! my mind suddenly fretted as I lowered my gaze and shook my head in a state of impossibility. I could literally feel my heart accelerating and my body slowly succumbing to a pile of maggots and bones.
"You think you can't handle this job?" Mr. K surmised as he cocked his head with the creases around his mouth upturning.
"He said that if I ever betrayed him again he would cast me out, and cast me down to the real hell of sexual torment - "
"Well if it's any consolation, Jane, I'm prepared to grant you your freedom in exchange."
"You make it sound like I don't have much of a choice."
"Unfortunately, no, you don't have a choice." Mr. K replied with a hint of sanctimonious clinging to his voice which left me with a grave understanding that if anyone was about to dictate the rest of my life it wasn't going to be my so-called "father". . .it was going to be him. "You're mine, Jane, in every sense of the meaning," Mr. K then said beyond a hardened expression that forced me to stir disturbingly in my seat especially when he leaned in to my face and held my petrified gaze against his tyrant one. "You spoke of sexual torment, yes?" I swallowed my parched throat, held my breath and stiffened an unnerving nod. "You're looking at sexual torment."<
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"P-l-e-a-s-e," my voice quaked.
"Shh," Mr. K then comforted stroking the length of my hair slowly, softly, lovingly while tears of fear, anguish, humiliation and pain streamed heavily down my face.
"Please, Mr. K, why can't you just free me? Why can't you do this? I mean, I don't understand why I'm necessary?"
"Because he'll see me coming in an instant. What he needs is an element of surprise, and you, Jane, are that element of surprise."
"He won't believe me if I just show up, if I surrender to him so voluntarily. He'll suspect something. I mean, what if I can't. . .do this? What will happen to me if I fail?. . .If I fail you?"
"After all that I've disclosed to you, Jane, you think I'd harm you?"
"That's not what I meant."
"There's a reason why you're still walking around. And whatever that reason is, is between Mr. Parker and his conscience, now meaning me. If you were any other, you'd be dead somewhere in a desert. Now, I understand your concern, and I appreciate the respect because it shows valor and honesty. So don't be frightened, Jane," Mr. K again comforted only this time it was in the form of a kiss on my forehead. "Everything will be alright by the end of that day. That, I can promise you. Now go. Times ticking. Jonah?"
February 2012
11:30 a.m.
Boston, Massachusetts -
I knew something was wrong when one of the Federal agents took me personally from the band of girls I was rounded up with and shoved me straight into an awaiting white cargo van. Then my fate took a turn for the worst when that same Agent tied a blindfold around my eyes and ordered me not to speak.
About an hour later, and somewhere still in Boston or perhaps a surrounding area I presumed, the van came to an abrupt halt with the cargo door opening and a masculine hand helping me off. I could feel the cool depth of the snow enveloping around my boots. I could hear the snow crunching beneath my soles as I was being lead away from the van. And then another wave of terror washed over me when I was abruptly halted in my tracks, and the blindfold removed from around my eyes.
At first I didn't know what to make of the scene before me which to me looked like a front row seat to a live execution: There was a shallow trench, about fifteen feet long dug out in front of me. And kneeling before the trench, on the opposite side, were the men responsible for their greed's. Men who laid waste upon my body, day after day, year after year. . .they were all there; systematically lined up in a single row, cowering side-by-side, and staring comatose into the fate that awaited them. And I didn't know how to feel as my entire body was feeling just as comatose.
I unnervingly glanced around only to be met by the distant gazes of masked men holding guns - some keeping careful watch within the perimeter of the woods while others fanned out around Mr. Parker, Mr. Ray, Dominic, Justin, Josh, Doug, Abel, Cain, and last but not least, Mr. Church. Suddenly the calm crisp air swaying around the woods went from serene beauty to extreme ruthlessness and ugliness as two of the masked gunmen began executing the men, one-by-one in the back of the head like the never constant end of sex traffickers plucking girls and boys straight from the bosoms of their innocence. And one-by-one the bodies simultaneously buckled back then forth, falling face first into the trench which instantly turned into a river of blood.
And again, I didn't know how to feel?
While a great part of me yearned to shield Dominic and Mr. Church from their impending deaths the miniscule part of me decided not to interfere with God's will. I honestly believed that if I did try to alter destiny then my fate would be sealed just as quick and with prejudice. So in the end, and the best thing I could do for the two was shed a few tears. I figured they deserved at least that no matter how fucked up the gesture was. In the end my actions only proved to me and the masked men standing around me was that I wasn't a monster like the filth lying in the mass bloody grave; I was still human, and even I knew they had to admire me for that.
The man who had originally escorted me off the van repositioned the blindfold around my eyes and proceeded to escort me back to the van.
I spent the next few hours shrouded in darkness with nothing but my fear clinging to the constant gravity shifting around me: First with being driven in the van. After, shuffled onto a plane, and it wasn't a commercial plane - the atmosphere felt to intimate and there were soft educated masculine voices all around me so I assumed I was flying in a private Jet. Once the Jet landed, I was then shoved into another vehicle which felt more like a Suburban as the seats felt plush beneath my hands and the vehicle rode high.
About thirty minutes into the drive the Suburban came to a sudden stop where I was then led off and then led into someone's residence. I could hear dogs barking nearby, birds chirping all around, and there was a constant flow of water, like a waterfall throughout the property. Then, and just like that, my journey came to an end with me sitting in a chair in a room scented in foreign incense.
For a brief moment I thought I had been left alone 'cause the room became awfully quiet after a set of solid doors closed behind me. But then I heard twin sets of soft sole shoes shuffling around the room. Seconds later, a door opened then quickly closed. I then caught that same faint robust scent from a man I had acquainted myself with months ago: Mr. K.
"Did you know that it is a proven statistic that adults who were abused as a child grow up to become abusers themselves?"
There was a sudden long pause between my listening and Mr. K's opening conversation. Then suddenly, without warning, the blindfold snapped off from around my eyes, and there sat Mr. K looking devilishly handsome as well as collective and poised behind a mahogany black desk. I casually stole a glimpse over my left shoulder; Mr. K's right hand man Jonah acknowledged me with a nod. I tried to return the same gesture when it occurred to me that the last thing I needed in my life was a complication. I turned away, and continued my conversation with Mr. K.
"That was a rather clever touch with that fake Federal agent, wouldn't you agree?"
"Only if it were so. Unfortunately he's a legit Agent. And he's just one but a few I have in my pocket along with others such as lawmen and politicians. You have to keep in mind, Jane, that I'm a vile, ruthless and despicable man, and I pay generously to be."
"You sound like you were speaking from the heart."
"Actually, I was speaking from experience, Jane. My mother was a filthy Czech woman. And the men in her life loved to watch as she spread her filth on me. You wouldn't think this. . .but women are the most foulest and vile of all creatures. You would suspect such crimes to be solely committed by a man because society has branded men as foul and vile. So when a woman commits such a heinous crime, the world automatically becomes confused. Women are usually - if not - always the victim of a sex crime or another as women were bred to conceive, to nurture, not rape, their children. So one year when my balls became much greater than my mother's, I tied her down to a chair one night and sealed her fate in Black Tar. Then it became my turn to sit back and watch men spread their filth upon her. Don't get me wrong, Jane, the whore made me good money. It afforded me a lifestyle I refused to give up. Two years later I paved my way into the underworld of sex-trafficking business. First with women then with teenagers and eventually children."
"You do realize, Mr. K, that you are no better than the men you've executed."
"Ah, touché, Jane. But the only difference between Mr. Parker and those men is that I don't fuck my sheep."
"That's rather surprising considering your profession in the sex trade. You figure an individual like you would be filled with temptation."
"Fortunately for me, fucking girls younger than sixteen does nothing for me. My interests lie merely in women. Those I can fuck all day."
"Well lucky for you I am all but that. . .a woman, I mean."
"True. But time stands still for no child, either."
"So soon I will become your victim?"
"I have no interest in you particularly in that fashion."
"So there'
s no need for fear?"
"Fear is what you make of it, Jane. Some people fear a grain of rice on the floor for fear of it being a maggot. Some people fear bugs with eight legs for fear that the bug can crawl faster to them to harm them more quickly when in actuality it is the bug who fears the people and crawls away faster to avoid being harmed. You didn't expect to come here, did you?"
"Where exactly is 'here'?"
"New Orleans."
I casually broke my conversation from Mr. K to sweep a curious eye around his lavish office. I hadn't really noticed but the majority of the walls were made of glass windows. And just beyond those glass windows was an oasis for a backyard. There was so much green - far beyond what the eye could see. And it reminded me of home when there was a home.
"Is this your residence?"
"I rarely have guests. You really should feel honored."
"We had an agreement, Mr. K," I said quickly changing the subject. "I found out the location to the auction. You got your men, and a lot of money. My job is done."
"So now you want your freedom?"
"Yes. I think it's a fair trade."
"I will honor my agreement on one other condition."
"Please, Mr. K?. . .I just want to leave. I want to leave the past behind me."
"I would like for you to call me "Dad". I don't care to which manner I hear it in. I don't care if you shout it, scream it or curse it. . .I just want to hear it."
"Why?"
"Closure? Satisfaction? Hmm. . .I really don't know."
"It's just the idea of hearing it, right?"
Mr. K held his next thought in silence. I knew what he was asking of me wasn't much or even a big deal as "Dad" was just a word that didn't pertain to any part of my life. But if that was the case, then why was I fearing to say it? Why couldn't I just shout it out and be done with it and move on?
"Why did you have me witness the execution?"
"To give you and Breanna a sense of security."
"Security?"
"Security in knowing that each time you look over your shoulder you already know the truth. . .that they no longer exist."
