The Girl Who Made Them Pay

by Tikiri Herath

“Asha!” Katy grabbed my arm and stopped me. “No!”

  “They’ll haul all of us away,” Luc said.

  The police van pulled out and the blue light turned on. I watched as it sped away, without a siren.

  The PA jerked me out of my trance. “This is the final boarding call for Flight Seven-Eight-Three.”

  We stared at each other.

  “What do we do now?” Win whispered.

  I opened my hand and uncrumpled the piece of paper Tetyana had passed to me.

  “Phone number?” Katy asked, looking at the series of numbers hastily written on it.

  “This is the final boarding call for Flight seven-eight-three. We’re still missing four passengers. Please come immediately to gate seventy-five.”

  “We’ll call her from Mumbai,” I said, pushing the paper into my pocket.

  We dashed toward our gate. The scowling attendants didn’t waste time in rushing us through. Our seats were at the back of the plane. We stumbled into them, our faces flushed, our hearts pumping like mad.

  “Please buckle up. We’re already late for takeoff,” a stewardess said in a crisp voice before walking away.

  I sat back in my seat, feeling numb.

  I was returning to India, flying back over the Mediterranean and Arabian Seas once again.

  I wondered if I’d see Tetyana again. I’d abandoned Preeti and Aunty Shilpa and look what happened to them. All I had to trace Preeti was that letter she’d sent a year ago. I didn’t even know if she was alive. Now, I’d abandoned Tetyana, at a time she needed help the most.

  I put my head in my hands.

  This was going to be a long flight.

  —THE END –

  READ THE FIRST CHAPTER of the Next Red Heeled Rebels Book Here.

  The Girl Who Fought to Kill

  Chapter One

  “Oi!”

  I swung around.

  It’s a cop.

  “Halt, I said!” The man waved his arms like he was commanding an army.

  No, it’s an Indian immigration officer.

  At least, that’s what he looked like in the white uniform, peaked cap and gun hanging from his belt. If we hadn’t been in an airport, I’d have thought he was a badly dressed, paunchy naval captain or something like that rather than someone who checked passports for a living.

  He was marching toward us with a deep frown on his face.

  My heart beat a tick faster.

  What does he want? Does he know who we are?

  I watched him stride up with a sinking feeling. I glanced at Luc but he wasn’t looking my way. His face had gone a shade pale.

  My gut screamed to turn and run. But where would we run to? We were in the international terminal of Mumbai’s airport—a wide, open hall as big as a ballroom. There was no way we’d escape him. Plus, the man had a gun.

  At least my friends were with me.

  Katy, Luc, Win and I had just disembarked after an exhausting thirteen-hour flight from Marseilles. Other than a stopover in Amsterdam where we’d had a panic attack when we thought Win had been kidnapped again after she’d gone to the washroom without telling us, the journey had been uneventful.

  We were bone tired. None of us had slept or ate or even talked on the plane. After what happened in France, all we could do was shift in our seats, struggling to come to terms with what we’d just done.

  I’d only seen Tetyana’s back for a moment before the French police whisked her into the police car. I’d wanted to run after her and scream at them to let her go, but Luc and Katy had grabbed me and pulled me away before I did something stupid.

  We can’t help her if we’re all rotting in jail, they told me.

  They were right. But all I could think of was how I’d abandoned a friend who’d been ready to kill for us.

  How could we leave her like that?

  When the plane finally landed in Mumbai, we stumbled down the staircase in a daze. India enveloped us in a steamy tropical fog that smelled vaguely of jet fuel and cow dung. I struggled to breathe.

  Funny, I thought as I staggered across the hot tarmac that was threatening to burn my soles, everything’s so foreign. India was my second home. Well, sort of. For three years of my childhood, anyway. Have I been away that long? It was a relief to get inside the air-conditioned terminal.

  A few people stared as we shuffled in. We were a conspicuous crowd. Katy the redheaded Canadian, Luc the lanky French guy, Win the petite girl from Laos and me, the half-Indian woman.

  Our plan had been to pretend to be clueless tourists and ask for visas on arrival. Luc had suggested Win hack into the Indian immigration system beforehand to get us all proper visas, but our departure had been so rushed, it hadn’t been possible.

  We’d been lucky so far.

  Katy and Win had cleared customs with no questions asked.

  The officer who took my Indian passport handed it back with a cursory glance. I’d forgotten to remove Preeti’s letter tucked between the pages before passing it to him, but he hadn’t even noticed. Luc was last in line. He was standing right behind me.

  I surveyed the area.

  Katy and Win were waiting for Luc and me under a sign that said Baggage Retrieval.

  We had nothing to retrieve. We were each carrying our worldly possessions on our backs, in the small hiking backpacks bought in Luxembourg only a few days ago. We had our passports, a change of clothes, toiletries and a few bars of dark chocolate Luc had sweet-talked the first-class flight attendant into giving us.

  We were on the run. This meant essentials only. And chocolates counted.

  So far so good. No one had followed us. Nothing had seemed out of the blue.

  Until now.

  “I am talking to you!” The man in the white uniform stepped up to Luc and glared at him.

  A second man in a white uniform was walking toward him with a long-snouted beagle on a leash.

  This is not good.

  “Me, sir?” Luc said, giving the officer an innocent look.

  “Yes, I talk to you!”

  What do they want from him? I was the one with a false visa and a passport made by someone who faked these things for a living. Everyone else had proper documents. If anyone was liable to get arrested by a customs officer anywhere in the world, it had to be me.

  “Merde!” I heard Luc say under his breath. Shit.

  “What’s going on?” Katy mouthed silently at me. I shrugged.

  “Did we tell you pass the gate?”

  I turned around to see the officer standing five inches from Luc now, breathing heavily as if the exertion had been more than he could muster.

  “I’m so sorry, Officer, but I thought we were done.” Luc spread his hands. “Was there anything else?”

  Respectful words. I noticed he emphasized his French accent, which usually charmed everyone he met. But this officer didn’t seem impressed.

  “Yes, there is very good reason,” said the man, his face stern. “You know very well why we want to talk to you.”

  Luc’s eyes flickered. He gave me a nervous sideways glance. My stomach sank. I hoped Luc hadn’t brought any of his white stuff with him. He couldn’t have made that mistake, could he?

  The second officer with the dog was standing a few feet away, one hand on his hips, where he kept his gun.

  “I will ask you again now,” the first officer was saying, enunciating each word slowly. “Do you have anything to declare?”

  Two local men stopped to look at the commotion. They smirked to see a foreigner in trouble. One whipped out his phone to take a video but bolted as soon as the second officer waved him away.

  Thank god. The last thing we needed was our faces splashed on the Internet.

  My heart raced. I’ve got to do something. But what?

  “I’m, I’m clean,” Luc stammered. “I’m really clean, sir. I have nothing to declare.”

  With a snort, the first officer reached over and yanked Luc by the shoulder.

  “Hey!” Luc cr
ied, pulling away. “What are you doing?”

  I found my voice.

  “Let him go!”

  Ignoring me, the officer pulled a struggling Luc toward the back area, followed by his partner and the dog.

  Motioning Katy and Win to stay right where they were, I rushed after them.

  “What do you want with him?” I called out from behind.

  The first officer gave a grunt.

  “Where are you taking him?”

  “Not your concern,” he barked without even a glance at me.

  “Yes, it is! You can’t just arrest someone like that!”

  He stopped and turned around, wringing Luc’s shoulder as he did so. Luc grimaced in pain.

  “Let my friend go!”

  “Your friend is going to jail for very long time.”

  I stared at him in shock.

  “And he knows exactly why.”

  Luc went limp and a look of resignation crossed his face.

  I gave him a desperate look. “Luc—”

  “Sorry, Asha.”

  Before I could say another word, the men hauled him through a doorway into a darkened corridor behind the customs desk.

  The door slammed in front of my face.

  The sign over the doorway said, “India Immigration Police. No Entry.”

  CONTINUE THE ADVENTURE...

  Do you want to know what happens to Asha, Katy and the Red Heeled Rebels next? You’ll find out in the third book of the series.

  The Girl Who Fought to Kill is a gritty tale of vengeance that will take you on a wild ride from the chaotic streets of Mumbai to the bustling city of Nairobi and to the dark lairs of human traffickers who ply their evil trade hidden in plain sight. And there will be revenge. Oh, yes. Sweet revenge.

  Click here to get The Girl Who Fought to Kill: books2read.com/TheGirlWhoFoughtToKill

  FREE Story

  HAVE YOU READ THE PREQUEL to the Red Heeled Rebels yet?

  Click on the cover below to receive your exclusive gift of The Girl Who Crossed the Line. Get Asha’s backstory and learn why her past haunts her.

  Get the exclusive story for free here: https://BookHip.com/LPCHTF

  Formerly titled Shattered.

  The Red Heeled Rebels Novel Series

  In a world where justice no longer prevails, six iron-willed heroines from five nations rally together to seek vengeance on those who stole their humanity.

  This is a story where the thrill of Kill Bill meets the wrath of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

  If you like gripping tales with flawed but gutsy heroines, vigilante action in exotic locales and twists that leave you at the edge of your seat, you’ll love these books by multiple award-winning Canadian novelist, Tikiri Herath.

  WHAT READERS ARE SAYING on Amazon and Goodreads:

  “Fast-paced and exciting!”

  “An exciting and thought-provoking book.”

  “A wonderful story! I didn’t want to leave the characters.”

  “I could not put down this exciting road trip adventure with a powerful message.”

  “Another award-worthy adventure novel that keeps you on the edge of your seat.”

  “A heart-stopping adventure. I just couldn’t put the book down till I finished reading it.”

  “Kept me mesmerized and captivated with the rich descriptions which made me feel like I was actually inside the story.”

  “This is a fantastic read that will have you traveling the globe. I absolutely loved this book. You will not be able to put it down!”

  “A real page turner and international thriller. Reminds me of why I’ve always loved to read. Because I can visit worlds and places I wouldn’t ordinarily get to see.”

  To learn more about this exciting series, go to www.RedHeeledRebels.com

  PREQUEL: The Girl Who Crossed the Line (formerly Shattered / Beginnings)

  A reckless girl. A foreign land. An assassination.

  This is the beginning of a globe-trotting suspense thriller that will immerse you in exotic locations and unthinkable crimes with a kickass team of gutsy heroines who stand for their rights and fight for their lives.

  BOOK ONE: The Girl Who Ran Away (formerly Betrayed / Disowned)

  An estranged orphan. A forced goodbye. A treacherous plot.

  This is a gritty tale of crime and betrayal that will take you on a frantic chase from the heart of Tanzania to a seaside village in India, to the ritzy city of Toronto where evil lurks in the most unexpected of places and where you can trust no one.

  BOOK TWO: The Girl Who Made Them Pay (formerly Abducted)

  A kidnapped girl. A forbidden house. An escape across borders.

  This is a gritty tale of crime and deceit that will take you on a feverish race from the underbelly of London to the cobblestone squares of Brussels, and to the medieval land of Luxembourg where castles and fortresses can hide the unimaginable.

  BOOK THREE: The Girl Who Fought to Kill (formerly Exiled)

  A vanished cousin. An unpunished crime. An impossible rescue.

  This is a gritty tale of crime and vengeance that will take you on a dangerous quest from the chaotic streets of Mumbai to the bustling city of Nairobi and to the dark lairs of traffickers who ply their evil trade, hidden in plain sight.

  BOOK FOUR: THE GIRL Who Broke Free

  A sweet sixteenth birthday banquet. A missing girl. An underground lair.

  This is a gritty tale of crime and deception that will take you on a mad scramble under the bright lit night skies of New York, to the seedy underground world hidden beneath all that plush, opulent veneer, where you’ll discover the worst of humanity.

  BOOK FIVE: THE GIRL Who Knew Their Names

  A room full of stars. An actress with a secret. A killing in Hollywood.

  This is a gritty tale of crime and treachery that will take you on a wild jaunt from the glitzy Hollywood galas to the luxury yachts of the glitterati of the City of Angels where you will rub shoulders with fame and notoriety.

  ....and more books to come.

  AWARDS & PRAISE FOR The Red Heeled Rebels series:

  ● Grand Prize Award Finalist - 2019 Eric Hoffer Award, USA

  ● First Horizon Award Finalist - 2019 Eric Hoffer Award, USA

  ● Honorable Mention General Fiction - 2019 Eric Hoffer Award, USA

  ● Winner First-In-Category - 2019 Chanticleer Somerset Award, USA

  ● Winner in 2019 Readers’ Favorite Book Awards, USA

  ● Winner of 2019 Silver Medal - Excellence E-Lit Award, USA

  ● Winner in Suspense Category - 2018 New York Big Book Award, USA

  ● Finalist in Suspense Category - 2018 & 2019 Silver Falchion Awards, USA

  Honorable Mention - 2018-19 Reader Views Literary Classics Award, USA

  COME ON OVER AND JOIN me on the Red Heeled Rebels Facebook Page where I share author quotes, cover reveals and all things books.

  Truth Is Harsher than Fiction

  ● There are an estimated 40.3 million slaves today. Compare this with the much less 12.5 million slaves bought over to the Americas between 1525-1866.

  ● 51% of globally trafficked victims are women, and 20% are young girls, to a total of 71% female slaves around the world. Some organizations have estimated this number to be as high as 80%.

  ● 99% of victims in the commercial sex industry are women and girls.

  ● Women and girls are trafficked for many purposes including forced marriage, pornography production, prostitution, forced labor, domestic work, and even forced begging.

  ● Sexual exploitation is estimated to be a $32 billion (yes, you read that right) industry.

  ● 76% of transactions for sex with underage girls are conducted online today.

  *2018 SOURCES:

  Prajwala

  International Labour Organisation

  Human Rights First

  United Nations Office of Drugs and Crime

  The Root

  Polaris Project

  Force
4 Compassion

  “Sometimes the story is the lie that exposes the truth.”

  ~ Jason Silva

  AS I RESEARCHED, PLANNED, and wrote these novels, I spoke with women and men from around the world, some of whom I’d never met before. They included women who are tirelessly fighting for equality and dignity in South Asia despite the push back and hostility from their own families and communities.

  They included former military officers and peacekeepers who had been deployed to conflict zones and saw the heart-wrenching plight of children, but had neither the resources nor the permission to assist them.

  Regardless of where they came from, they all shared with me their stories. They read mine. Most importantly, we discussed the difficult topics in these books frankly and without prejudice. I gained many insights through these chats, but one lesson I took away was there are good people everywhere.

  These are the good people who do not apologize for harmful traditions nor tolerate cultural dogma. These are the good people who yearn to change age-old customs that subjugate our daughters and alienate our sons. These are the good people who desire to create a better world for all humanity, for now and for the future.

  I was surprised to see how much of our world views we share, regardless of differences in gender, vocation, political views, sexual orientation, or nationality.

  We all have more in common than not. And this gives me hope, hope for a wiser, kinder, open, and more connected global community that uplifts us all.

  How would you like to write your own life story?

  The Rebel Diva Self-Empowerment Series

  www.RebelDivas.com

  The Rebel Diva books are life-changing practical guides that take you on an adventure of a lifetime. Uncover your purpose, your passions, and your talents to create a step-by-step masterplan to achieve your life goals.