by Jaden Wilkes
After Eden had returned to Vancouver, Columbia had sprung into action. She’d discovered how to research on her own, bypassing Nico and himself in her quest for information.
She had a natural knack for it, making connections they might have missed or overlooked as trivial. She had compiled quite a file on different criminal organizations, and shockingly how often they teamed up to access men, women and children from different countries.
When there’s profit to be made, the unlikeliest of enemies became friends.
Dimitri looked behind him again, and the man was leaning very close, too close for his liking. He clenched and unclenched his fists, ready to spring into action at the smallest sign of distress.
Columbia was a natural though, she wasn’t showing any signs of concern…in fact, she looked positively downtrodden, exactly what she had hoped for. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the small signs that she gave off, she was enjoying herself.
“She really is good at this,” Nico leaned in and whispered. “You’d almost believe her waif act, if you hadn’t seen her kill.”
“Yes, if you hadn’t seen that bloodthirsty look she gets in her eyes when she’s going in for the final thrust. God, I love my little warrior queen,” he said, unable to keep the pride from his voice. It was true, as much as he fretted over her safety; there was something ultimately satisfying at finding a woman as fierce as himself. She had taken to death as most women take to domestic duties. She was born for it, and had she not met him, she would have lived a life of restlessness and depression, never understanding the underlying cause.
She was his equal, his superior, his submissive, his beautiful little monster. She was his everything.
“I think they’re on the move,” Nico said and they watched the action in the mirror behind the bar. Columbia had gotten up from the table and was following the man, her head was hung low and she looked as meek as a church wife.
“Let’s go,” Dimitri said and slapped a few bills on the bar, enough to cover their tepid beers and then some. Grease the palms of the bartenders and keep the information flowing, is how Dimitri always played.
They exited the pub and spotted the pair halfway to the end of the street, exactly as planned. Columbia must have used her story that she needed to pick up a bag from the hostel she was at. She was walking with a limp to slow them down.
If it hadn’t been for her ethereal beauty, the greasy fucker would have never put up with this.
Nico stayed on their tail and Dimitri circled around a side street, picking up speed as he went. He was going to cut them off three blocks from the pub, down a dimly lit path. They had a darkened alley to pull him into, work him over for information, and finally finish him off.
Dimitri’s blood was pumping, he hadn’t been this excited in years…not since he was called Enforcer and worked for Sergei. He forgot how much he loved the thrill of the chase, the build up to the kill. Even back then, he focused on the ill deeds of the men he was after, rather than see them as human beings. Now he focused on their part in the grand scheme of sex slavery and felt a righteous fire coursing through his veins. They deserved to die, and he was the one to do it.
He waited in the shadows. Overhead he heard a window open, some smattering of evening chatter between a man and a woman, and caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. He willed them to go back inside, close the window against the night’s chill and turn up their television. He didn’t want them overhearing what was going on down here.
He got his wish, just as Columbia and the greasy fucker rounded the corner, the window shut and there was silence. He smiled to himself when he heard the sound of a television at full volume.
Columbia was coughing and really playing it up; he almost stepped out and started clapping at her performance. He supposed having been forced to act like everything was okay at home all those years had given her a knack for theatre.
“Come on, you silly bitch,” he heard the man say, “I have people waiting for us. Hurry up.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Columbia said and paused to hack into her hand. When she looked up, she realized where they were and started to move behind him, to crowd him in.
Nico was coming up the rear; keeping a look out and offering help if they needed it.
“Now you put on the steam? Stupid cow,” the man said. He was speaking English but sounded Eastern European. He probably worked for one of the local organizations, Dobroshi’s group or the Serbian Giška gang.
Dimitri waited until they were just about to pass, he caught Columbia’s eye and she nodded, a wide grin on her face. He stepped out in front of the man before he made it past. He looked Dimitri up and down, and his face split into a wide grin. He was an ugly fucker.
“Enforcer! Holy shit, I thought you were dead,” he said. “Everyone thought you were fucking dead!” His voice was nasally and definitely accented Serbian or something like it, but Dimitri couldn’t quite place where he knew him.
“I’m not, but you will be,” he said and pulled the man into the narrow alleyway.
“What the fuck?” the Serb asked and tried to pull away. He was about a hundred pounds lighter than Dimitri, wiry and quick, but no match.
“Just go, it will be easier on you,” Columbia said as she stepped up behind him and gave him a shove.
“You?” he questioned, “but you’re just a whore.”
“I’m so much more,” Columbia said and shoved him again, “and lucky for you, you’re about to see just what I am.”
Dimitri dragged the Serb by his collar as he kicked and protested, switching between English and Serbian, expletives in both. A couple swift kicks to the backs of his knees settled the Serb fast enough, allowing Dimitri to pull him along with ease.
Dimitri smiled at Columbia’s fire, the smug triumph in her eyes as the Serb realized that she really was so much more than she had seemed. The man sensed Dimitri’s distraction and pulled away, making a pathetic attempt to escape. He yelled when Dimitri punched him in the kidneys and pulled his arms up tight behind his back.
“Keep quiet or I’ll snap your fucking neck right here,” he said into the man’s ear, “just let this happen and it’ll be easier on you.”
“Let what happen? Who sent you? Sergei’s dead, whose lap dog are you now?”
“I guess that would be me,” Columbia giggled, “but honestly, can you imagine my great mountain of a man climbing into my lap? I think it’s the other way around. I do love being petted.”
“Sergei is dead, and we are picking the legs off his enterprises, one by one.”
“You’ll never be able to stop us,” the Serb said, fear almost choking his voice. “This is ridiculous, you were like me Enforcer, how can you turn your back on this. And for what? Some cunt who sucks your cock and tells you you’re still a handsome man?”
“Apologize,” Dimitri said as they came to the end of the alley. “Tell her you’re sorry.”
“Fuck that.”
“Dimi, it’s okay, I’ll gut him whether he says sorry or not. It doesn’t matter in the end,” Columbia said.
“It matters to me,” Dimitri replied, “I had to sit there and watch him treat you like human garbage, watch him touch you and whisper his disgusting false promises to you. The least he could do is apologize before we take his life.”
He shoved the man on his knees onto the cobblestones. The Serb protested, but shut up as Dimitri punched his face. The other man didn’t fight back; he fell onto his hands and made a wailing sound. He had already given up.
“Seriously?” Columbia said, her hand on her hip, “this is what happens when you’re not fucking over some poor young girl? The minute somebody stands up to you, you’re laying in an alleyway choking on your own gobs of tears? Fucking pathetic.”
Dimitri dragged the man up again and said, “Apologize.”
The Serb looked at Columbia, spat on the ground and said, “Fuck you and your little bitch.”
Dimitri had his knife out f
aster than his brain could process. It was like an appendage to him, he was so used to the feel of it strapped to his body, the weight of it in his hand, and the exact amount of pressure it took to slice through human skin.
He cut the tip of the Serb’s ear off; a place that he knew was painful and bled a lot. It looked much worse than it actually was.
The Serb cried out and Columbia stepped forward to press her hand over the man’s mouth. Dimitri noted she had slipped on thick leather gloves; she was so clever and prepared, like a vicious little girl scout.
“Apologize or the other one goes too,” he said and looked down to the alley entrance. Nico was standing there smoking a cigarette; he could have been any man on any night waiting for his lover. Perfect.
“I’m sorry,” the man told Columbia, “I’m sorry, just let me go.”
“And I’m sorry we can’t do that,” she replied, “but I appreciate your apology.”
“Now who are you working for?” Dimitri asked quietly and held the blade of his knife to the Serb’s other ear.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he replied, calming his choking sobs. “I don’t know who it is, I just know who I work with locally.”
“Who is your local contact?”
“Some Romanian, a guy called Pescu, that’s all I know.”
“Where were you taking her?”
“A bus stop near Prague Castle. He sends a driver to pick girls up, I’ve never even seen him, I swear!”
“Do you believe him?” Dimitri asked Columbia, “Where did he say he was taking you?”
“I believe him, but I don’t think he’s as innocent as he lets on. He said something about their organization, and I got the feeling he was coming with me to the house.”
“What did you tell her?” Dimitri demanded, applying pressure to the Serb’s ear. The man whined and wiggled, making the knife slip and losing a little flesh in the process.
“I promise you, I know nothing. I swear on my life, on my mother’s life. Just let me go.”
“That’s not gonna happen, mate,” Dimitri said and looked at Columbia. He pulled out a roll of duct tape and started to wind it around the Serb’s hands, binding him. “I think we have to ramp this up to get anywhere, sweetheart. You can go stand watch if you want, or you can help me out. It’s up to you, but this isn’t going to be pretty.”
“I don’t need pretty,” she said and smiled up at him, “I need information, so let’s do this.”
“God, I love you,” he told her and dragged her towards him. The Serb was whimpering between them, held fast by Dimitri’s one hand, the hand with the knife was behind Columbia’s head as he pulled her in for a kiss. Their tongues found each other, as they had thousands of times before, but this time the sensation was enhanced by the increased adrenaline of the moment.
The Serb moaned and Dimitri gave him a shake as he pinned Columbia’s tongue down with his, opened his mouth slightly and relaxed. “I do love you, little dove,” he said against her mouth, “I want to give him to you.”
“I love you too,” she replied, her voice vibrating against his lips, her hot breath exhaling into his mouth. “I’ll do it, but you need to teach me how to extract information.”
He pulled back and she was smiling, her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed. The night was cool, but her skin had been hot to touch.
“First, frisk him for a weapon, we can’t have him getting jumpy and getting ahold of something,” he told her. “Then we’ll start slow, tell me everything he told you.”
They found one small knife strapped to his ankle, and a Glock 19 in his coat pocket. Columbia removed both, whistled to Nico and met him halfway to turn the weapons over.
Columbia then related the information, he had claimed he worked for a wealthy client who simply needed cleaning staff. Dimitri knew the drill; he’d heard the story a hundred times over. These recruiters were paid for each girl they brought in, and they often used a similar story, or a simple variation of it. The unsuspecting girl would find herself picked up by luxury car, taken to a house that seemed decadent to her, and find out too late that she’d been spirited away to a whorehouse.
After they spent some time there being trained and evaluated, the girls were grouped together and shipped to larger holding houses, mansions or warehouses in the countryside with no hope of escape.
They were then auctioned off to the highest bidders and their lives were never the same.
Dimitri tightened his grip on the Serb as Columbia relayed her story. The man yelped, but kept quiet after Dimitri taped his mouth shut. He still didn’t seem to understand the depth of trouble he was in. Like most criminals, he believed he would be able to fast-talk his way out of it.
“Get your blade,” he finally told her. She reacted eagerly, drawing her weapon and leaning in to the Serb’s face.
“Looks like I get to play,” she said, “now tell us who do you work for.”
The man shook his head and tried to draw back from her knife. She ripped the tape from his mouth and shoved it in her pocket. He took a deep breath and said, “All I know is it’s an English guy. That’s it, I swear. I’ve never met him, but rumour has it that he took over Sergei’s operations in Eastern Europe.”
Dimitri was startled; he didn’t know anyone in England who would have been Sergei’s natural successor.
“Are you certain English?”
“He speaks English, yes.”
“Did you find a cell phone?” Dimitri asked Columbia.
“Here,” she said and handed him a new iPhone. Dimitri swiped his finger across and the screen opened instantly. The idiot hadn’t even bothered to password it; he’d been so certain he’d never get caught.
Dimitri started to read through some texts when a black screen with a white skull and crossbones appeared, taking over the phone. A countdown of thirty seconds began and a field for a password appeared.
“Fuck,” he said, “Nico!”
The Serb laughed.
Nico came running, but they were at twelve seconds by the time Dimitri handed him the phone.
“Password?” Nico asked the Serb.
“Fuck you,” he replied and Dimitri punched him. A tooth flew from his mouth and landed with a clatter on the cobblestones. Blood frothed around his lips.
“It’s an auto delete app,” Nico said, “I can’t stop it.”
“We’ll never know who he was going to meet,” Columbia said.
“I’ll never tell you,” the Serb managed to croak out through swollen lips.
“He’s of no use to us,” Dimitri said, “I’ve seen these kinds of guys before. He’d rather die than give up his secrets.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Nico said, “and boom, it’s gone.”
The phone gave a slight buzz and went black. “We’ll take it with us just in case there’s some way to access it now,” Dimitri said but he could tell by the look on Nico’s face that it was a lost cause.
“You talk or you die,” Columbia said and held her knife to the Serb’s throat.
“I will die either way,” the man said and laughed, his voice tinged with a brittle hysteria, “and I guarantee you’ll make it easier on me than the people I work for.”
“This is bullshit, Dimi,” Columbia told him, “there has to be a way to make him talk.”
A bright outburst of laughter came from somewhere on the main street. They heard a group of people coming, talking loudly and clattering their luggage along the uneven pavement.
“This won’t work,” Dimitri said, “I’m sorry it’s so frustrating, little dove.”
“Can I…” her voice trailed off and she looked at the Serb, then to her knife. Her face took on an almost dreamlike quality. She really was cut out for this kind of work, and once again his heart swelled with pride.
He glanced at Nico and said, “You want to go back and keep an eye out?” Nico nodded and returned to the street, this time hunched over a phone just like millions of other normal citizens did every sin
gle day.
“Fuck, just get it over with” the Serb wailed, “just do it, you stupid little cunt.”
At that provocation, Columbia slid her knife into the man’s side, between the ribs and straight to the heart as he had taught her. Dimitri watched her face as she did it, she was beautiful as always, but took on a ferocity when she killed that hardened his cock and sent a jolt of pleasure through his body.
Blood oozed out through the wound onto her gloved hand. She didn’t pull her knife back completely, but slid it in and out slowly with the precision of a cock fucking a pussy. She seemed to relish the sensation of sinking herself in and out of flesh, knife fucking his rib cage.
She drew the knife back fully, but didn’t seem to be finished. He was gurgling and starting to fade. Dimitri held him upright for her, to see what she would do, where she would take this.
She slid her knife in again, this time low in his abdomen. She tugged upwards and he felt flesh give way and muscles part. Columbia really was gutting him, as she had always threatened.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, uncertain if the glaze on her eyes was a disconnect from a traumatic experience, or from her lust at having completed the task.
“I am fucking amazing,” she said and pulled back, allowing the Serb’s stomach to split. “I expected more…goo…to come out. You know, his innards.”
The Serb stiffened and died. Dimitri didn’t know how he knew the life had just left his body, he just did. Life gave an animation to a machine of meat and bone, and when it was gone, it was obvious.
“It takes more than that to have them spill out,” he told her and indicated her cut, “For one, you need to cut wider and deeper. Either way, he’s dead and you’ve taken one off the street.”
“Thanks,” she said, not taking her eyes off the man. His corpse slumped in Dimitri’s arms, his hands still taped together and his arms twisted behind his back. Dimitri had seen hundreds of corpses in his day, and probably contributed to ninety percent of them becoming corpses. It had never affected him, and he gauged Columbia’s reaction carefully.
She seemed completely unaffected as well. She was just crazy enough to enjoy herself, but not so crazy that she would lose sight of the nature of their hunt. Only those who deserved to die were their victims.
