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Lost Inhibitions

Page 7

by Jools Louise


  “What you’re doing here is more than our so-called leaders in government are doing. Unless you’re fit for work, you’re on the scrap heap. No one wants to hear about mental anguish. No one understands that seeing your whole family murdered in front of you can make you so angry at those who did it, you’ll do anything to avenge their deaths. Once the fingers have stopped pointing, the ones left behind have to rebuild their lives. How do you rebuild when you’re drowning in grief? How do you go on when no one gets punished?”

  I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him impulsively as I watched the tears rolling down his face.

  “I haven’t believed in God for a very long time, but I do believe that people get their comeuppance. If you do bad things, there’s always something far worse waiting around the corner for you, ready to pounce when you trip up.”

  His arms were surprisingly strong as they wrapped around me, giving me a brief hug back before he stepped back, looking a little embarrassed at losing it in front of the group.

  “I’m Ray. I’d really like to stay on here as a baker.” He gave me a smile, wiping his tears away.

  “Ray?” He nodded. “How good are you at making strawberry shortcake with homemade ice cream?” He nodded again, giving me the thumbs-up and I heard sniggers from my crew.

  “Ray, my friend, judging by the greedy light in Jess’s eyes, I’m thinking you’re going to be reeallly busy. I remember your bakery in ‘Derry and I put on ten pounds in a week from visiting there every morning. I ate a lot of fresh bread, cakes, and pastries.” Jackson laughed aloud, pretending to catch a trickle of drool from the side of my mouth.

  “Luv, you have the same look on your face when you’re about to—Oof!” I interrupted my beloved with a swift elbow to his hard belly, winding him.

  “I know that violence is not a solution in every scenario, but occasionally…” I wiggled my eyebrows and the entire group cracked up.

  “Now then, Ray, about the cooking.” I linked my arm through Ray’s, leaving the turtles to their new protectors while I had a discussion about Ray’s future here on the island. Since the turtles were now relatively safe I thought other priorities had to be addressed.

  I did get slammed by the crew who followed behind, most notably by Max, who bantered with me back and forth all the way to the complex.

  Chapter Six:

  Turtle Wars—Poachers Beware!

  Riley and Raphael moved in together as a couple. It was inevitable really, since the pair were definitely meant to be. Riley was definitely looking more relaxed, and he and Raphael could often be seen together, holding hands or smooching like a couple of teenagers. It was cute and everyone in the remaining crew was happy for their friend.

  A routine developed with turtle-watch duties. I had looked into any other threats which might be posed over the coming months as the turtle eggs incubated. They were due to hatch in about two months or so and I researched the danger to the hatchlings. The pet trade’s demand for exotic species was at an all-time high.

  In the 1980s, when the television show Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was popular, turtles became a highly prized pet and sales soared. Already threatened by pollution, many got caught up in fishing nets. The predation of turtles as a food source also meant the depletion of wild stocks globally was immense. Since it could take up to thirty years for a turtle to reach sexual maturity, such catastrophic poaching had to stop. There were breeders of exotic animals for the pet trade, and this was a solution to protect the species. However, this meant investing in equipment and staff to manage such a facility since breeding turtles was a delicate process. The black market traders simply wanted an easy profit.

  Eggs were an easy target and easier to transport than a fully grown turtle. One search on the internet had Hawksbill turtle eggs for sale for seventy dollars each. For each clutch, which averaged 140 eggs in each, a trader could potentially earn nearly ten thousand dollars for each nest. A big incentive for the poachers to come back. We were going to make sure if they did, there’d be a nasty surprise waiting for their return.

  With the five additional members of our team we set up a system which we thought would work. Jackson had confirmed that the Ozzie Naval Officer Murphy who had helped earlier would be patrolling in the area. We each had satellite phones which we took with us when travelling to and from the nesting site. An early warning system in the form of a team of guys who took turns watching for the larger poachers’ vessel was set up. Should the poachers manage to slip by, a team of two would be at the nesting site armed with RPGs and assault rifles. These were deterrents only. I mean who would be stupid enough to try to land on the beach when being assaulted with grenades and bullets?

  I was still scared. Our idyllic island was not so perfect now. The outside world with all its evil human predators was encroaching. Such people were not going to be put off for long by our little band of wounded ex-soldiers. I worried what would happen when these monsters came…and they would come, I was sure of it. I worried that when the fight came, I would lose one of my guys. They had been through enough already and I was quite prepared to kill anyone who tried to harm any of them again. The poachers had better not meet up with me or they’d be toast.

  I kept telling myself this as I found myself teamed up with Louis at the turtle site.

  I watched the horizon fiercely, concentrating so hard I started in fright when I felt Louis’s warm hand on my shoulder.

  “Relax, luv. If they come, we’ll kick their asses.” Louis grinned and I caught a glimpse of impending mayhem in his green eyes. His hair had grown longer over the past few months and fell in golden brown waves to his shoulders. His mane and those gorgeous sage-green eyes gave him the look of a lion in his prime. His hair had lightened in the tropical sun and he looked happy and healthy.

  I gave a snort at his cocky claim, leaning closer to his hard frame as we sat on the little hill above the turtle beach.

  “They had some fairly serious weaponry, Louis. And you’re handicapped by an ex-retail manager who has fired a gun at someone at least…never!”

  Louis placed a kiss on my shoulder, his arm going around my shoulder.

  “Darling, I’ve seen you before your morning coffee and I reckon those poachers won’t know what happened when you start on them! Channel your early morning grump!”

  He chuckled as I slapped his arm, then gave his ear a sharp bite. He yelped, turning his head as he tried to deflect the next nip by covering my lips with his. Still laughing, he sucked on my lower lip and sent my lust spiralling as he gave me a scorching hot, tongue-swirling kiss that I felt in every erogenous zone of my body.

  I was gasping for breath as his lips left mine momentarily, my fingers clutching handfuls of his golden brown hair as we parted. His hungry gaze locked on mine, and he pushed me to lie on my back. One of his long legs covered mine. Half covering me with his hard body, his lips came back to mine and I writhed beneath him, grinding my clit against one of his hard thighs as it slid between my legs. I pushed him and he went willingly, moving to his back as I attacked his mouth and body. My hands and mouth were everywhere, licking at his sleek skin and enjoying the taste of man and sweat on my tongue before returning to sample his sweet mouth again.

  There was a roaring in my ears and for a moment I paused, belatedly realizing that passion wasn’t the only cause of it. The sound was an outboard motor. Louis cursed softly as he heard the sound at the same time.

  Grabbing the walkie-talkie, he made contact with the resort, speaking urgently into the mouthpiece. I simply stared as not one but three RIBs motored into the bay, heavily laden with armed men in full assault gear. Crap!

  I reached for my weapon, a C8 Carbine which I had been training with for the past three weeks. I despised such weapons, hating guns with a passion. Since the poachers had come back well-equipped for war, I was glad I had overcome my dislike and learned how to shoot. From ex-retail manager to Gunsmoke Annie in just three weeks. Who knew?

  I fired a couple
of rounds above my head and the boats paused. I heard furious arguments break out in one of the boats.

  Louis finished his call and grabbed the RPG.

  “This is a private, protected beach! You need to leave immediately or we will fire on you,” Louis shouted over to the boats, pushing me further down the hill to leave a smaller target. A barrage of bullets was his reply, sending us scurrying for cover.

  “You need to leave, Jess. These guys, they mean business,” Louis whispered furiously, his eyes still locked on the intruders who had now landed.

  “If they want a fight, they’ve got one! I’m not leaving.” I glared at Louis, who looked furious with me. I fired again, this time aiming across the bow of the lead boat, warning those on board to stay inside.

  “We are not leaving until we get what we came for. If you try to stop us, you will die!” The counter threat was accompanied by a rapid burst of bullets which had Louis and me ducking back against the hill.

  Cursing fluidly, Louis loaded the RPG as the barrage stopped.

  I peered over the hilltop, glaring as the second boat reached land as well. While the first boat had been shooting, the second crew had disembarked and were moving up the beach stealthily.

  “Bollocks to this!” Louis cursed again, then aimed and fired the grenade launcher over the heads of the invaders. They yelled in fear, then made a hasty retreat as the sand exploded behind them at the shoreline.

  “We’re not staying here! No amount of money is worth getting killed for!” The second crew were obviously not hard-liners with a death wish. They ran back to their boat.

  I cried out, horrified, as the crew in the third RIB fired on their own men, cutting down the five deserters with quick, deadly precision. Blood stained the sand, tainting the beauty of the shoreline as five men fell dead in their tracks.

  The first boat crew froze halfway out of their boat, looking back at the killers then at us. Three looked very young from what I could tell. Teenagers, if that. I could see the fear on their faces as they tried to decide what to do next.

  A voice from the third boat made the decision for them. He was speaking a language I was not familiar, something Oriental.

  “The one who’s speaking is Chinese. He’s talking in Mandarin and telling the first crew if they don’t get the eggs, they and their families will suffer the same fate as their friends,” Louis whispered to me, stealthily loading the RPG again and taking aim.

  A whizz sounded in my ear, followed by a second explosion, and the third boat was hit. Swearing and shouting followed and Louis grinned in satisfaction.

  Floundering in the shallow water, the third crew splashed to shore and made their way to the first boat. These must be the senior crew, the “officers” in charge and they shoved the youngsters out of the way and jumped into the remaining RIB with a couple of older crew members, leaving the kids on the shore. The second boat was damaged when its crew had been murdered and it lay like a beached whale carcass in the shallows.

  Gesturing with their assault rifles at the youngsters the killers made their demands obvious. The boys were forced to launch the first boat back into the sea, leaving them behind. One of the leaders viciously slugged one boy with the butt of his rifle and the boy slumped unconscious to the ground bleeding heavily. The thug threatened the other two, pointing the rifle menacingly at the boys who stood frozen in shock at the dramatic events. The boat edged out into deeper water.

  The RIB didn’t get far. Our guardian angel in the form of the Australian known as Murphy Nielsen suddenly appeared around the curve of the bay, bearing down on the RIB like a Grim Reaper. The RIB tried to outrun the frigate. Its engines roared in fury, but a couple of warning blasts across the fleeing dinghy’s bows had her stopping dead in the water to await her fate.

  I was torn between watching the sea battle and eyeing the two boys on the beach who were now huddled around their friend. I gave a soft hum of distress, then stood up and made my way down the beach toward them, being careful where I walked in case I stepped on a nest. Over the last three weeks we had been able to carefully map out where the nests were and put a series of flags to indicate the location.

  I heard Louis following me. He had grabbed the rifle and was looking watchful and grim as he eyed the slaughtered men lying dead in the shallows.

  The two boys who had been left behind were crying, shaking their friend to try to wake him. They were scared and yelled at us as we approached, warning us off.

  Louis began to speak to them softly, his body language non-threatening and his voice calm and gentle. I didn’t understand the language but Louis was constantly surprising me with his knowledge of the most unexpected things.

  The boys quieted, relaxing slightly and moving to let Louis assess their friend. I had brought my backpack with me and urged the boys to follow me away from the corpses as I offered them water to drink as well as fresh fruit.

  All three youngsters looked undernourished and they took the food hungrily, gobbling down papaya and pineapple chunks quickly. The water was accepted with slight smiles of thanks and that also disappeared fast. I studied the boys, wondering how they had ended up with thugs who stole live eggs for a living and murdered their comrades.

  “They’re from the Philippines,” Louis said quietly, noticing my interest. “They were sold to the poachers by their parents as they have large families and there is not enough work and little money to feed them. The boys have only been with them for a few weeks and were too terrified to refuse them anything.”

  I stared at Louis in amazement.

  “How on earth did you learn all that from a two-second conversation?” I asked, incredulous.

  The boys giggled, laughing at my astonished face.

  I smiled at them, realizing that they were younger than I had originally thought. They weren’t even teenagers yet. Maybe eleven or twelve years of age, but certainly no older.

  “We speak very good English. We help you with turtles.” One of the boys had lost his fear, smiling at me and nodding his head.

  “I know they’re from the Philippines since that’s the language they speak. The gang of poachers are well known in the area around Fiji and are known to buy young boys and girls from their families, then use and abuse them before selling them on. We think they’re part of a larger gang, backed by organised crime cartels. These boys were lucky. Kids don’t last long with these bastards.” I was horrified at the brutality of the gang who would exploit young children and then discard them like so much garbage. It was obvious, from their treatment of the second boat crew, that they put little value on life, human or otherwise.

  “What use are children to the poachers?”

  “Please, missy.” I looked at the boys again as one patted my arm. “We serve the masters. They tell us to do something and we do it.” I glimpsed a flash of something old and disturbing in his sparkling black eyes. It was a look that said he had done things which a child of his age should not have any idea of. He looked ashamed and old beyond his years. This indication of untold horror gave me an idea of just how they had served their evil masters.

  “What are your names? My name is Jess and this is Louis.” I smiled again, my heart aching as I distracted them from their memories.

  “I’m Bayani and this is Datu. Our friend is Benji.” Bayani smiled again. “Bayani means ‘hero’ and Datu means ‘chieftain.’” Bayani puffed out his chest importantly and I grinned at his posturing.

  “What does Benji mean?” I asked and he giggled, shrugging and shaking his head to indicate he didn’t know.

  “Benji means ‘right-hand son.’ It’s the Tagalog version of Benjamin. Benjamin was the son of Jacob in the Bible,” Louis spoke matter-of-factly, then grinned widely at my open-mouthed stare. “What’s the matter, sweetness? I’m not just a pretty face, you know!” I poked my tongue out at him. The gesture had both Datu and Bayani giggling at me and I rolled my eyes.

  “Louis, you will never be just a pretty face to me, luv.” I blew him
a kiss which had the boys laughing even louder just as their friend Benji began to stir.

  Benji’s scream of terror as he awoke pierced the air. His friends rushed to him, babbling in Filipino to calm him down. The terrified boy stopped screaming, but still trembled in fear as he stared up into Louis’s tanned face.

  Louis calmly spoke to the boy, not touching him, his body language none threatening. Eventually the kid relaxed enough and began to lie back gingerly on the sand. All of a sudden he retched violently, turning to his side and vomiting into the sand. I knelt next to him, not touching him but speaking gently to comfort him.

  Shivering, Benji looked dazed and he blinked as though to clear his vision.

  Louis spoke to him again in his own language, clearly asking questions which the boy hesitantly answered.

  “He has a concussion, Jess. We need to get him to the medical centre with as little fuss as possible.” I looked down at poor Benji, who looked utterly miserable.

  The soft shuffle of footsteps in sand sounded behind me and I turned my head.

  Jackson and Dr. Myers were accompanied by Marcus and Ray.

  A voice hailed us from further down the beach. Murphy Nielsen waved as we looked over, having incarcerated the poachers in the frigate’s brig and was now disembarking the Navy’s RIB. Jackson walked to meet him. They looked at the carnage of dead bodies, and looked grim as they discussed the situation.

  Murphy approached our little group.

  “Well now, it looks like a pretty bad do all ’round.”

  Datu and Bayani moved to stand in front of their prone friend, their expressions fiercely protective.

 

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