CHAPTER EIGHT
Respect
Three Months Later - Location: Mumbai, India
I was quickly finding out that most things in Mumbai, India were for sale that is if the right leverage was used. One of the items for sale was loyalty, if one could call loyalty to be had at a price that.
In short, the biggest dog in the ring got the meat, always though there were the underdogs whose backstabbing thrusts were only to be expected given the swiftness of the takeover within the realm of human trafficking that had occurred.
Dark sunglasses in place I stopped at a street corner and waited for an open air three wheeled taxi to swing over. One did break out of the flow of traffic promptly and as it came into the curb I swung into the backseat and the taxi was off again without so much of a break in transition.
The nice thing about India was that most people understood at least some English, while some were more fluent than most Americans. Even with that said I was still working hard at learning Hindi.
After all, if I was going to be the top of the food chain of human child traffickers in the country the most notorious for it in the world I had at least better learn the language. The plan that the Agency had settled on was simple and had come by way of Sonia’s suggestion.
Instead of camping out with surveillance and putting the crackdown on individual operations that would only go towards making the other higher-end operations go to ground and weather out the storm we were instead going for an open approach as the newest and the biggest buyer in town. Acting like one of them and better yet interacting with them gave us an amazing catalyst for discovering the entirety of their operations.
We needed no excuse to spy on the opposition that hated us and the lower echelon leeches were only too glad to inform us of everything going on within their spheres of influences in exchange for the higher buying prices we offered. In a way we were acting like a global conglomerate recently come to India with an objective of running everyone else out of business who didn’t agree to work with us and use us as their go-between to the world market beyond India’s shores.
Gaining such a monopoly was not popular at all within this dark world of operations that rarely saw the light of day. Even having the opposition to our takeover of the industry at our throats was in its own way a benefit as it gave us the legitimate excuse to defend ourselves and take down those who didn’t want to play ball.
The only problem with this strategy was that I was a proverbial piece of bait that attracted violence most places that I went. I had no problem with that as long as I kept coming out on top.
The troubling thing of the moment, though wasn’t the bullet or knife blade that might materialize any second out of nowhere or even the sight of the gang tattoo on the forearm of the taxi driver, no, it was the police. There were actually quite a few good cops and our takeover of this illegal practice of human suffering had attracted their attention.
We had purposely kept the local police forces in the dark from the get-go as even though there were good ones there were also the corrupt ones or worse yet the ambivalent ones who really didn’t care one way or another if a child was kidnapped or not. No, it was best to work independently of the law.
In a way that was how the Agency worked best anyway. We weren’t interested in being known of and having our exploits talked about on the world stage. No, it was usually far better to maintain the mystique of power that the Agency had gained for itself that made even presidents and prime ministers nervous.
Over the years the Agency had been tried to be rubbed out of existence by multiple syndicates and governments, but always and sometimes only by the Grace of God the Agency had survived to the present day. Now it was my responsibility to represent it in yet one more of the biggest operations to date.
We weren’t going for chump change. In three months of steady market usurpation most aptly described as a blitzkrieg maneuver tactic my phony syndicate had cornered over 50% of the market and purchased over 400 children. In keeping with form we had shipped the children to all four corners of the world, but instead of underworld brothels and private buyers they were sent to secure facilities where they were being kept safe until they could be returned to their families.
It was a shell game that was quickly wearing out in terms of believability, but we had acquired a vast amount of intel over the course of the past few months, the only question was had we waited too long in pursuit of the last few loose ends before pulling shut the trap? Time would tell.
Running a close second to that in terms of worrying issues was that we’d gotten word that the police were planning a crackdown of their own and I, Rorian Marlowe, by sudden notoriety as the big American man on the ground was the biggest target in their sights. The police were a force to be reckoned with and frankly police tactics in this corner of the world were about as brutal as they came.
My mind drifted away from the busy array of thoughts besieging me daily as the man in charge of over 60 some agents and their handlers and settled in on the increasing nervousness that my driver was manifesting. Taking in the situation I sighed.
Oh well. Peace and tranquility for the moment were over.
Leaning forward I tapped the driver on the shoulder and waited for him to look back. I held up a thick stack of local currency and his sweating forehead started to pour out moisture in earnest.
He wanted the money, but with reluctance, he shook his head and said, “They’ll kill me, Sir.”
“Suit yourself.”
Standing up I swung out of the moving taxi and grasped a hold of the railing of a faster moving bus that had a hole in the traffic corridor that our current line of bogged down typical Mumbai traffic did not. The driver made a sharp exclamation and reached for a gun as I waved goodbye to him.
He never got the chance to fire the gun as with an explosion the taxi shattered apart in a ball of flame and lose particle debris. His masters weren’t taking any chances it seemed.
I tapped the earbud in my ear, “Thanks Sissy. I owe you one.”
“Thank me later I’m detecting multiple laser lock-on signatures to your suit!”
Immediately I dropped away from the bus for fear of pedestrian casualties. Dodging through moving traffic I didn’t miss the puff of dust kicked up ahead of me or the heavy smack of a bullet into the hood of a car I had just passed by.
They were using silencers. Everyone on the busy street around me was unaware of the silent war going on.
It was a war that needed to be ended before a passerby got hurt. I dodged behind a large planter that promptly had several bullets smack into it.
As clouds of dirt rained down my gaze met that of an older boy standing nearby that was taking in everything with what appeared to be a ready sense of shocked excitement instead of the fear one would expect to see. Winking at him as bullets continued to hammer into the concrete planter, I brought my arm up before me.
The jacket sleeve of the coat became the representation of a digital screen. The shooting telemetry of three active and widely spaced apart snipers came into perspective as the smart suit analyzed bullet trajectories in order to accurately pinpoint the points of origin.
Reaching into my suit coat I pulled out three cigars. I twisted each one and they each beeped as they synced with the core processor embedded in the suit.
Things were set and with a toss I sent the three cigars up into the air. The back ends of each cigar fell off as each shot off like the miniaturized rockets they were.
With speed they curved around obstacles to each find its target in a matter of seconds. To the tune of three distant explosions I stood up and brushed my suit off.
The boy’s mouth was gaped open and with a smile I tossed one of my concealed daggers to lodge into a street tree that he was standing nearby. His eyes tracked over to the expensive knife and then to me in shock.
I tipped a finger to him in salute and continued on my way, none the worse for wear even as the boy tugged his souvenir out of the tree with excitement. I rounded the next corner as sirens began to ring out behind me.
Even though sirens were ringing nobody was looking at me and the boy was well beyond informing on me as he took time to admire his new acquisition. Things were…… all shot to hell!
I stopped as members of the local police force stepped out of the woodwork all around me. These were the good ones.
The desire to be free of them was immense, but to do so meant killing and these were the wrong men to kill. Lifting my hands in surrender I stood still as they came in on me from all sides.
Sissy was having a panic attack in my ear.
“Sissy have them start preparations for the roundup. This is what we’ve been waiting for. We’ve never looked more legit then right now by having me picked up by the cops.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. Now cut the feed.”
The line in my ear went dead and as the chief inspector came close to me he reached out and pulled the bud out of my ear. He held it in his fingers as he looked at it thoughtfully.
The technology he was holding was quite advanced and meeting my gaze, he asked, “Who the hell are you big American?”
My lips parting in a smile I said, “Clint Eastwood.”
Fury darkened the man’s features and I watched his fist come into my field of view. This was going to hurt.
It did. I fell backward to the concrete as a half-dozen or so booted kicks came crashing into my sides, even as my head was treated like it was a soccer ball. I was scum to these men and for a good reason that I could well appreciate and that I even respected them for still it was very hard to take this beating and not kill them in return.
As consciousness began to fade I heard the inspector say, “Take him to the safe house. There’s something I don’t like about this.”
There was a lot about the moment that I didn’t like. Being hit like I had been for one and also likely being late for dinner with Sonia being the other.
I let myself be dragged away as I welcomed the beckoning waves of darkness that came pressing into my mind from all sides.
*******
With a start, I came awake and looked up into the face of the man that had thrown a bucket of water onto my head. Shaking my head, I flexed about and discovered that my hands were tied off behind my back and further secured off to the chair that I was sitting on.
Without warning I was slugged hard and then again and again and again. Smiling as blood dribbled from my mouth, I stared at the chief inspector seated in the shadows.
My focus upon him was broken again as my head was jarred by another hit. I knew enough of Hindi to make out the inspector saying, “Enough, we’ll do it again in the morning. Three more days of this and he’ll tell us whatever we want to know.”
The enforcer and two other onlookers left the room, followed by the chief inspector. In the other room, I heard them rambling about my gear that they had divested me of.
“I don’t know inspector, never seen such gear on a villain before, it’s like he’s some kind of secret agent or something.”
“CIA?”
“What would they be stealing our children for?”
“What else, Americans want money and they don’t care about how they get it!”
I nodded my head ruefully. He had a point when it came to some individuals that I had crossed paths with in the past and sadly, many of which I still knew existed in the present despite the best efforts of me and many others.
I heard the scrape of something against concrete and peering back over my shoulder I beheld the boy from the street. He pulled himself over the balcony railing with an impressive agility that spelled out prior experience, most likely gained as a thief.
With only a momentary hesitation he came towards me. Stopping behind me he pulled out the knife that I’d given him and went to work sawing at the ropes binding my hands and feet to the chair.
Staring at him out of my one eye still open enough to see by I silently asked the question of why he was doing what he was.
He shifted about awkwardly beneath my gaze before whispering out, “I don’t think you are the bad man that they say you are.”
I nodded, even as I reached out to squeeze the boy’s slim shoulder with my recently freed hand and quietly say, “Thank you. I owe you one”.
Standing up I watched as the boy gestured to the balcony only to then glance back nervously at the closed door from which voices sounded out from behind.
I shook my head no.
“Please sir!” He begged in a whisper.
“What’s your name?”
“Pelan.”
“Well, Pelan, you see it’s like this. As a man you will learn that there is a time for running, a time for turning the other cheek, a time for fighting, and more importantly for the moment a time to enforce respect. Without respect what is a man but a vessel full of days that has no real meaning to its existence. With respect a man sees each day for what it is, a blessing from God and I don’t mean one of your idols that you’ve got on decadent display all over this city. No, if a man wants respect sometimes he has to fight for it.”
That said, I grasped a hold of the back of the wooden chair that I’d been tied to and walking to the room’s door, I opened it and stepped through into the other room dramatically poised for the fight.
Four pairs of startled eyes lifted up to me and I said, “You know what they say about payback don’t you or is that only an American saying?”
I swung the chair and it disintegrated under the force exerted upon it as I smashed two men at once with it. Two legs of it were all I had left and with them I smacked the remaining two free of the guns they were busily reaching for.
It was a free-for-all then, but not another hand was laid on me as I wailed away with both chair legs until all four men were laid outstretched on the floor with ample evidence of damage to be seen. Only the inspector was still conscious and that was by design.
I squatted down near his head and heard him mutter out, “Go ahead! Finish me off you American bastard!”
Looking at him contemplatively I said, “Wouldn’t dream of it. In your own right, I applaud you for your dedication to duty because I know how much money you’ve been offered in the past to turn away from doing your job, but there is one thing I have against you. In my country we have this principle of innocent till proven guilty, though I grant you all notion of adhering to that has vanished for the most part from America’s courts, but as a principal I think it still holds water. You should try it for yourself sometime. Now, back to business, keep your cell phone on you at all times. Pretty soon I’m going to have a present for you. A present that you will like. Now remember before you ask me any questions, innocent till proven guilty.”
“Who are you?”
“Nobody, but what I’m about to do is something that is near and dear to both of our hearts. That’s enough for now. Keep your phone on you, and when I call you be ready to listen. Got it?”
The man nodded and said with a discerning look to his face, “I’m sorry. I thought you were something else.”
“Entirely understandable, but next time ask a few questions first, okay?”
The man nodded and I stood up. The boy was still in the other room.
“Time for you to run along home Pelan.”
He shrugged, “What home? The street is my home.”
Squinting through my swollen eyes at him for a long moment I eventually arrived at a decision. Picking my phone off the table I decrypted it and rang through the number at the top of the list.
“Where are you at?” Came Sonia’s voice fraught with worry over the phone into my ear.
I winced as it was not a good thing for an expecting mother to be kept in a state of worry such as I had put her in.
“Am I too late for dinner?”
Sonia’s voice sounding calmer said, “No, I can warm everything up. Rorian… you’re okay, right?”
“In a matter of speaking.…… I mean there’s a little blood, but nothing that can’t be washed off. Do you have enough for three to eat?”
“Yes.”
“See you soon Honey.” I ended the call.
Pointing to the ordinance and tricks of the trade that came with my profession as an agent, I said, “Mind sweeping all that into a bag for me?”
The boy leaped forward to the task and awkwardly I swung my coat on. To say I was a bit stiff was an understatement.
Refocusing on the boy I saw him, offering out a pillow case full of items no child should ever play with.
“You carry it. Come on.”
I walked out the door of the house and Pelan followed along as if he was my shadow. The boy’s giddiness was infectious and I found myself smiling despite how much it hurt to do so.
An expensive looking car swung over to the curb directly and four agents swung out of it as even with a wince I felt about at my lip. Smiling had been a mistake.
Tori Flanigan shook her head full of red curls and stated, “There is just no killing you is there?”
I smiled again and said, “Many have tried. How are things going?”
“Just as you said. Everyone in the underworld relaxed upon the news of you being nabbed by the police. In fact, it seems like a grand celebration is taking place.”
Nodding, I said, “Tonight, we move tonight.”
Tori nodded and said, “Sonia is very worried.”
I nodded and gesturing to the car I indicated for Pelan to get in. He did so with eyes as large as dinner plates.
Tori and the others watched with appreciation as closing the passenger door, I said, “Find another ride, as it is I’m already late for dinner.”
“Yes, boss.” Tori said with a smile even as the others tipped at their eyebrows in a salute as I pulled away from the curb.
I made good time through the traffic of late evening Mumbai, which was in its own way a miracle. Pulling through the gates of my own safe house complex that had been set up by Salif for me I brought the car to stop.
Getting out of it, I was closely followed by Pelan. He was older than I’d first thought him to be, maybe 14.
He was underfed to be sure, but that was about to change as the smell of dinner wafted out of the house to my waiting nostrils. I went up the stairs and through the door that was held open by another agent.
Pelan followed behind looking like he felt very much out of place. Gesturing to a chair I said, “You can throw that stuff there.”
He did so, but he did so gently, which was just as good as there was enough firepower held in the bag to necessitate a complete redo of the foyer should it accidentally go off.
Sonia stepped out of the dining room. Her hand went to her mouth at the sight of me.
I held up a forestalling hand, “Just surface damage love. This is Pelan. Can you see him seated and I’ll be right in after I wash up.”
I went down the hall to the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, I flinched at the sight of the creature that I beheld there.
All things considered though I’d looked worse than this before. Tearing off the rest of my shirt I began splashing water over my face and torso as needed, making a complete mess of the sink area.
With most of the blood washed off I went about mopping up my mess on the floor with a hand towel. I threw the bloody towel into the bathtub along with my shirt and headed back out into the living space of the house.
I was tired, sore, very much hurting, and yet….. it was hard to explain because despite all of those things I was completely wired. I was alive and on the verge of capitalizing on a great moment in both my own personal life and for the Agency that I loved.
Sitting down at the table I began dipping up a plate of all the delicious food that was arrayed before me. Sonia was an absolute wonder in the kitchen and though every mouthful was going to cost me a great deal of pain I simply didn’t care.
I was home and home to me these days was wherever Sonia was. Glancing up I saw her looking at me watery eyed.
I glanced to Pelan and saw a boy fighting with everything he had not to gobble down the food on his plate. He very much reminded me of someone, and that someone was me once upon a time.
Bowing my head as I clasped my hands together, I said, “Father, thank you for this wonderful meal and for the one who prepared it. I am truly grateful to be here to enjoy it. Let Your will be done this night, even as I ask in Jesus Name that our plans will be a great success.”
Opening my eyes, I slapped my hands together and said, “Let’s eat!”
Pelan needed no encouraging but dug in with the will of a 14-year-old long famine coming to an end. I ate as well as I could manage to do so, which wasn’t as much as I would’ve liked to.
Sonia ate very little as her gaze remained fixed on me almost solely. The level of love I felt being directed my way was simply inspiring.
Truly the more I was with her it seemed that life never tapped into before blossomed to life. I had so much to live for.
I…… I was happy.
I looked away from my plate of food that had come to be a bit too painful to keep up with consuming and glanced with everything that I was at Sonia and her gaze met mine. She saw everything.
With a look of open love she got up from the table and left the room without even saying a word. My gaze followed her as she left the room, then glancing at Pelan, I beheld a boy who looked to have reached a point of completion rarely achieved in life. He was also quite sleepy looking.
“See that sofa?”
Pelan glanced to it and nodded.
“It’s got your name on it. Sleep well Pelan.”
I got up and he did too. He looked choked off as he fought for the right words to say, but instead they came out as tears.
Stepping close I hugged him and had the satisfaction of feeling his thin arms close about me tightly in return. I’d never been one to give to others openly, but what could I say, lots of things were changing.
I let go and stepping back, I patted him on the shoulder and started for the bedroom. I stopped as Pelan said, “I want to be like you! I want to stay and learn. If you want me that is.”
I turned back and took him in and saw all the qualities to be seen about him that once upon a time another agent had seen in me and I repeated the same words as at one time had been said to me, “You may stay, but only on one condition.”
“What is it Sir? I will do it.”
“I don’t want you to be me, I want you to be better than me.”
Pelan nodded thoughtfully and said, “I will try Sir.”
Nodding my head in acceptance I continued on my way. The bedroom door was open before me and I entered only to find Sonia waiting stretched out on the bed.
Smiling, I kicked off my shoes and half tripped my way out of the rest of my clothing. Reaching the bed, I crawled up onto it and kneeled beside the growing mound of my child safe and warm within his cozy home.
Leaning forward I kissed the silken skin of her belly that was rising up with life that I had seeded into her. Her hand ruffled through my hair endearingly as she lay there naked for my pleasure.
My hand found her hip and gripping it, I turned her onto her belly as I said, “You’re cutting off oxygen supply to the baby.”
She laughed even as she came up onto her knees. Coming in close behind her I speared into the moist depths of my woman with relish for all that life was in this moment.
I didn’t last long and as I came I held deep as the last of me was expelled into the welcoming depths of a woman who seemed to know me more than I did myself. Weariness assailed me and with a groan of remorse at having to leave a very good place I pulled free and fell to the bed.
She was against me in a heartbeat whispering in my ear of her love as even then she began kissing my bruised features. Mumbling with tiredness I said, “Wake me up in two hours. Two hours, don’t forget.”
“Yes, Darling. Sleep my love.”
I did so with relish as I turned my face into the softness of her breasts even as she half cradled me in against her. My lips moved against the warm swell of her breast, “I love you.”
I was gone to sleep then and missed her answer in reply of likeness even as her tears fell down to wet the pillows as her eyes took in the damage done to her lover with remorse, even as with supreme happiness she thanked God over and over for the return of her husband. Taking his hand, she pressed a kiss to the palm of it before placing it over her womb.
Her hand stroked upon her husband’s strong back as she sought to get enough of this man, whose very occupation threatened to see him dead and not return to her one day. It was useless to try.
She could never get enough of him. All they truly had was now.
Pressing endless kisses to the crown of his head as he sought refuge against her breasts from the world she begged out over and over to God that this man would always return safely home to her. The future was so uncertain, but for the next two hours as her eyes watched the clock her barrage of pleas at heaven’s doors did not cease.
Two hours came to be and with tears in her eyes, she nudged him awake gently. His head lifted and he gazed at her in the moonlight for a moment before kissing her passionately in a way that had to hurt his split lips.
Pulling back from her, she in turn fought a war not to hold on to him. He slipped off the bed and was soon gone from the room.
Dropping to her knees beside the bed Sonia prayed only to cry with brokenness in fear of the unknown. Peace touched her suddenly and with a shudder of awareness her eyes opened, only to hear a voice from within her soul say, “Your son will know his father. Do not weep as one mourning since I am able to deliver victory and even so I have already done so.”
Crying with relief and thankfulness Sonia crawled up onto the bed and in only the passage of a few more moments of time she was fast asleep and dreaming of her man coming home to her. Life may be uncertain, but God was not.