O'Halloran looked at Laura´s big black eyes, thick sensual lips and compared them with the memories of Sheila, whose blue eyes were just two thin stripes and recalled her thin lips. He clenched the fat buttocks of the woman with his hands until she cried of pain. What Laura had inherited from her black ancestors was what Paddy kept in a permanent state of arousal. He could forget and forgive her preferences regarding erotizing narratives.
The two thugs opened the door as usual at that hour and toured nearby to make sure no one was prowling around the block. A blue car approached from the nearest corner and stopped right in front of the abandoned warehouse. Three covered figures left the building and got into the vehicle that departed immediately. The bullies remained a few moments taking advantage of a ray of sunshine that warmed their bodies. The New York autumn chill was not suitable for these men, born and raised in equatorial climates.
A black drunkard approached from the same corner from which the blue car had come. The hit men were already used to seeing him. The thin man walked to the tumbles, bumping waste containers and other obstacles that were on the sidewalks. One of the thugs spoke in an unknown language and he and his companion laughed when the drunk stupidly greeted them. As he passed by them the man stepped to the pavement certainly not to collide with the two guards who made obscene gestures.
Suddenly the drunk made a remarkable gesture for its speed and accuracy; one of the assassins saw something alarming through the corner of his eye and began to turn toward the drunk but it was too late. Four sharp blows were heard in the alley when the alleged drunk pulled a pistol with silencer from his filthy clothes.
The two men fell down on the sidewalk without an exhalation; each showed two dark spots which rapidly expanded across their breasts. The ragged drank pulled the corpses to bring them into the open door of the building which he closed immediately after entering it.
“One, two.” Whispered the attacker to himself.
Nubia took off the rags with a grimace of disgust; under them she was dressed in a flexible rubber suit and had on her feet a pair of boots with rubber soles; a balaclava was placed on her head concealing her features but allowing her perfect vision. Stealthily she controlled the rest of the ground floor of the warehouse, it was filled with garbage of all kinds but she found no other human occupants. The woman directed the thin beam of a flashlight toward the stairs and headed silently toward it. In the first step she contained a curse when a large rat crossed in front of her.
Both saw each other at the same time. The fat man coming down the stairs watching at the screen of his cell phone had no time to breathe a cry of alarm; his chest was pierced by bullets and he rolled down the stairs. Nubia set aside not be dragged away by the bulky body; immediately she concentrated on the upper part of the staircase anticipating the appearance of another custodian. Indeed another man appeared in the doorway with a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Ahmed, is it you?” Asked in a dialect of Sudan. The staircase was in darkness because Nubia had turned off the flashlight, but the top was partially illuminated by a light from behind. The man fell down the stairs with two bullets in the chest leaving the bottle fall noisily to the floor.
Nubia paused for a moment to see if the noise was followed by some event. As she checked that everything was quietly she continued to climb and finally had to pass over the body lifting his legs as she went on with the fatidic count.
“Three, four.”
The girl remained silent for a moment trying to orient herself. She looked in both directions of a corridor that opened before her and in the far background of one of them glimpsed a dim light while from that place came muffled sounds like a celebration party.
With extreme caution Nubia headed in that direction and approached the light source, obviously a room; the noise grew louder, and she could discern gruff voices of a man and women moans.
Upon reaching the entrance of the room her stomach cringed. Two of the Sudanese thugs were subduing two black women whom they had forced to kneel on a mattress lying on the fetid floor. The men were satiating their bestial appetites as the girls barely had the strength to emit weak groans.
The outrage over the brutal rape scene turned all red in Nubia´s eyes, who with an effort of concentration dominated her feelings.
She placed herself behind the scenes and at point-blank blew the heads of the two thugs, who fell heavily on their victims. When the girls turned their faces the Nubian waved them quiet, while helping the women to get rid of the rapists bodies.
“Are there more men here?” Asked Nubia in an Ethiopian dialect.
The women did not answer with words, but one of them nodded while she extended two fingers pointing in the direction of another flight of stairs.
“Are there more women with them?” Asked Nubia.
“Yes, a lot of girls.”
Nubia again had to pass by the bodies of the men she had just killed.
“Five, six.” The implacable count went on.
While Nubia climbed the new stretch of stairs she changed the magazine of her pistol.
She was finally reaching the top floor, which exuded a distant music. On reaching it the woman ascertained where the sound came from. Without too many precautions Nubia headed in that direction. She suddenly entered a room and saw two men sprawled in chairs surrounded by bottles. One of them was asleep while the other managed to jump out of his seat as he saw the unexpected visitor. The shots were accurate. One of the men went from a dream to the other while the other was moaning crawling on the floor with a torn stomach. Nubia ended his suffering with another shot. From a crate of bottles that was used as a sort of table the girl took a bunch of keys and went to a thick iron gate which closed the only room visible in the floor. As she passed the corpses Nubia completed the count.
“Seven, eight.”
Upon opening the door the first thing that came to her was the stench of bodies crowded in awful sanitary conditions. Nubia found no light switch so she had to explore the place with her flashlight.
The women were scattered on the floor staring at her with astonishment without knowing what new nightmare was expecting them. Nubia counted eighteen. The huge African eyes reflected the light from the flashlight into the general darkness.
“Quick, get out of here!” Said Nubia in the usual Ethiopian dialect, and then reiterated in other languages used in the Horn of Africa.
“ But where will we go?” Asked one of the girls distraught.
“Anywhere, away from here. Look for a policeman. Run, we do not know how much time we have.”
When the girls were standing up Nubia asked one of them, who seemed more awake.
“Do you know Jemal? You know where he is?”
“He left here a while ago with his lovers. I had to serve them drinks before.”
Nubia recalled the blue car to which three people had ascended. No doubt Jemal and his male lovers, a black Sudanese and a white Yemeni she remembered well.
Nubia ran downstairs showing the women the way to freedom.
Chapter 14
“How come none of the eight men managed to offer resistance?” Uncle Charley had attentively heard the story Nubia was telling him but without much surprise. He analyzed the facts as if it were a war report, something connected with his youth in Vietnam.
“They found themselves too safe in their burrow. I could kill them one by one or in pairs.” The coldness of the young woman impressed the old soldier.
“It was an ambush in their own den of beasts.”Said Charley. “ I cannot say I regret it nor blame you. Do you think you have dismembered the band?”
“Regrettably Jemal escaped with his two male lovers. I think I saw them when they got out of the building. The damned bastard will reconstitute its group with fresh men hired in Africa for two pennies and will keep exploiting his business.” Replied
resignedly Nubia.
“But it has been a heavy blow for him; on the other hand the women that you set free were his source of profit. It´s been a financial blow as well.”
“What do you think will happen to the girls?”
“ They will surely be detected by the police and the Migration department will take action in the matter. In this particular case being returned to their home countries is not the worst thing that can happen to those girls.”
“ Their villages and houses have been surely razed, as was the school where I was. I would not know where to return.”
“In your case you probably have other options.” Added enigmatically Charley. “However at this time you are an illegal immigrant to the United States. When this is all over you will have to present yourself within the group of women brought against their will.”
At that point Charley decided to change the subject.
“ The gun you used is the same with which you shot the gunman in the alley?”
“Yes.”
“It has a silencer?”
“Yes.”
“And you used the money you asked me to buy ammunition?”
“ Yes, as well as the wetsuit and the boots.”
“What have you done with all that stuff?”
“It's still in my bedroom.”
“You must get rid of those things immediately. It is necessary to completely disconnect you from this unfortunate chapter. Give me everything right away.”
“What will you do with it?”
“I'm going to erase the traces of the gun and throw it into the Hudson River. I will burn the clothes and shoes in the oven of my workshop. You must immediately take a bath to thoroughly remove all traces of gunpowder and metal particles from your hands, your face, your hair and all parts of your body that were exposed.”
The girl went to her room and returned with the gun and clothes. Charley stood up and said.
“I'm going to get rid of all this right away.”
“Thanks Charley. Listen! I have a question.”
“Tell me.”
“What did you mean I have other options?”
“You know it. Some people are interested in you.”
“Charley, you swear to me that Marcos will never know what I just told you.”
Paddy O'Halloran was furious. He threw the cell phone into a corner breaking it to pieces.
“Damn ape! It seems that someone massacred his men and he is now desperate and squeals that I have to protect him from his enemies. He is trying to blackmail me using all the money he paid me over the years.”
“Is it true about the money?” Asked Laura Sandoval.
“Of course. Where do you think I got the resources for our holiday, to satisfy all your whims and also maintain Sheila?”
Perceiving the state of crisis he was in Laura approached the man. She stroked his head for which she had to stand on her toes. She said softly.
“You will find a solution, I´m sure. You must realize that the status of that man Jemal has changed.”
“What do you mean?
“He's no longer your boss, now he is a danger for us.”
“I know that perfectly well. The ape that was once an asset has now turned into a liability.”
“What you do with a liability?”
Paddy smiled in reply. Then he lifted the woman in his arms as was his custom, took her into the bedroom and closed the door.
The man got to the door of the cheap hotel and surveyed the scene of the central desktop. A groggy employee was watching a portable TV without observing the door. Just then rang a phone located on a way to the bathroom wall. The man knew that the timely call was made by Laura.
Paddy pulled down the balaclava covering his face, put some disposable gloves and placed plastic bags in his shoes. He took the gun in his hands and slid through the hall towards the wooden stairs holding his breath. Fortunately the old stairs did not creak under his weight.
Jemal had told him the room number where he was so she went directly to it, on the third floor. He pleaded not to find anyone on the road, but the late hour ensured that all guests would be sleeping in their rooms.
As he arrived in front of room 304 Paddy took a lock pick and in one second stealthily opened the door. He peered into the small deserted living room and then saw the light from the bedroom, from which came groans and creaks of a bed. He walked silently and saw a scene that sickened him. Jemal was sexually penetrating a young white man who was kneeling on the bed and offering him his ass. The state of excitation of both was extreme; alongside them was lying another black naked boy who was sleeping despite the activity in the same bed certainly under the influence of drugs. The bed squeaked in a precipitous manner due to Jemal´s jolts. At one point, the man realized that someone else was in the room. Without removing his penis from the young man´s anus Jemal turned his head.
“What the hell...?”
The sentence was interrupted by a dry noise emitted by the pistol Paddy was holding in his hand.
The accurate shot had impacted Jemal in the middle of his forehead, causing him to collapse on his lover. The boy also turned his head, showing a face rotted by drugs, with bloodshot bleary eyes. Another shot shattered his head and the two participants in the sexual act fell on the bed in a grotesque position. The other young black boy stirred in his sleep but kept immersed in it.
A decrepit Volkswagen was located in a street corner close to the decadent hotel, covered by the night shadows. When O'Halloran surreptitiously got out of the building a click was heard inside the vehicle. When the lieutenant pulled out the mask that covered his face, certainly not to draw the attention of some unlikely passerby, several more clicks followed. As he left the hotel, the driver of the Volkswagen started the car without turning on the lights. O'Halloran kept walking a couple of blocks until he reached the place where he had left his own car. The succession of pictures covered the whole trajectory until the lieutenant arrived at his own home.
The follower stopped then his car and kept his camera. The memories of Leroy Washington´s face, the image of Vince Caruso on crutches, of Sheila Flynn badly beaten and finally the picture of an Ethiopian girl with her throat cut toured the mind of Sergeant Eric Murphy. No, he was not happy, he felt sad but relieved.
Laura heard when Paddy opened the apartment door. The woman was pleased with the news that she was planning to give him once he confirmed he had done his job that night. Laura had not given him the news before due to the outbreak of anger he had experienced with the call of that dirty rat Jemal; she had then postponed it until the man was in a good mood, because that would be the best news of his life. The doctor had confirmed what the previous tests had indicated, she had a six-week pregnancy. What the damn Irish wife had never been able to give Paddy, Laura already had in her womb.
Once the man had penetrated her Laura asked.
“Could you get rid of the ... problem?”
“Yes.” Was the terse reply.
The woman waited a moment.
“Come on, you know I want to hear all the details.” That said the woman began to increasingly roll her pelvis. Paddy began the description of what had happened from the moment he had entered Jemal´s room.
“And he was riding a white boy?” Asked the woman, always eager to hear gory details. “What was Jemal´s size, big?”
“I guess so.”
“And was the boy enjoying it?”
“I do not know. He was completely drugged.”
“So, go on.”
O'Halloran continued with the story. Finally came the time he was withdrawing from the room, leaving the young black gay asleep.
“And did you come back? So what did you do?”
“I put a bullet between the eyes.
“You did that for me! To tell me about it!”
Laura´s cry was triumphant. The movements of her hips turned spasmodic as she felt the orgasm coming.
“This is the best gift you've done to me since I first met you.” Saliva foam emerged from her mouth and her face contorted in pleasure.
Paddy reached climax at the same time as the woman, both in a burst of joy. His genitals ached intensely for the effort, but he had never enjoyed a sexual act that way. The image of the frigid Sheila crossed his mind but he immediately shooed it away.
Were both lying on the soaked sheets. Laura said.
“You know? I have something wonderful to tell you.”
O'Halloran looked at her questioningly.
“The doctor confirmed it yesterday. I have a little Irish teddy bear growing in my womb.”
Chapter 15
The same night in which she had carried out the slaughter in the warehouse Nubia awoke with a jolt, her heart beating fast. The girl had insisted on sleeping alone that night because she was very anxious and had asked Marcos to sleep in the attic. The images of what happened since she had arrived in the country followed one another in her brain at a breakneck pace. The assault to the site where the girls were guarded by traffickers, the flight with the unfortunate Sanwarit, the image of her cutthroat friend, the instant when she had sunk her sharp heel on the throat of the murderer, the nights and days she was forced to hide, her foray on the previous day in the new den of the smugglers, the face of each of the men who she had killed, all emerged in a whirlwind of memories where they mingled in such a way that there was not a before or an after. Nubia tried to get up but the sense of balance failed her and she fell heavily to the ground, where thoughts calmed down and the whirlwind disappeared.
After what to Nubia seemed like an eternity but in reality were only seconds she felt that someone pulled her up, placed her back on her bed and opened her lips forcing her to drink water from a glass. The girl opened her eyes in fear of reliving the horrible scenes that her mind had conjured up, but only saw Marcos and Uncle Charley´s worried faces before her.
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