Eighty One – Laura's Story Pt. 12

Laura arrived home slightly later than planned, she stayed on at the office to finish some work and the traffic that evening had been unbearable. She noticed that it often seemed to be worse on a Thursday. That was the trouble with living close to the city, an accident or roadworks and you were stuck; the whole area could be gridlocked in no time at all. She was in a good mood: although typical of many others, her day had been both productive and enjoyable. She sorted out a creative solution to a problem job that had been bugging her for some time. Meeting Olivia for a long lunch with lots of catching up and gossip finished things off nicely. Even so, she would be glad to get out of her work clothes, take a long shower and slob out for the evening.

She and Oscar had the house to themselves: Andrew had ‘gone to help a friend cut some trees down’, or so he said. To Laura it sounded more like an excuse to lop off a branch or two and then sit watching sport on the television whilst consuming vast amounts of beer, but she didn’t mind in the least. The men were having takeaway curry, so no cooking for her, she had the rest of the night to herself. Bliss.

There had been a strange aura about her life since the ending of the game. Having heard nothing from anybody connected with Oakham since Amelia and The Colonel left her earlier in the week, an unsettling emptiness seemed to be ever present. There was still the outstanding pawn and queen to find but so far there were no clues to follow. And of course, hanging over her, there was still the dread of the whole experience coming to an end. That unwanted thought had been banished from her mind too many times to recall.

She could only just squeeze her car past the white van parked in the driveway. Great, Andrew didn’t think his friend had an open fire so they wouldn’t want the wood. Laura loved their wood burning stove and, in the depths of Winter would be almost sitting on top of it. After locking the car she went over to see how they were getting on. “Andrew, I’m back, where are you?” she called.

The side door slid open. A hefty push into her back knocked her forward and she fell onto her knees inside the van. Unseen hands grabbed her wrists and held them tightly behind her back.

“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed, “Let me go.” Despite her violent struggling she was no match for their strength and a cloth bag was easily forced over her head and the cord tightened around her neck. Her continued screaming and threats had no effect on her assailants. Their efficiency seemed well practised.

The van started to move. After slowly backing out of the driveway they made steady progress down the road. An ordinary van on an ordinary journey–nothing unusual to attract attention. Laura’s panic increased as she felt cords being tied around her wrists and ankles. Her desperate attempts to free her arms and kick out with her legs were taking their toll: she was tiring rapidly and the cord was biting into her neck causing her to choke. Once her arms and legs were tied the hands released her. She tried another futile attempt to kick out at something–anything–but her movement was so restricted she could only flap about like a landed fish.

“Who are you and what do you want?” she demanded. There was no response. She could hear their voices, so they must be able to hear her. She repeated herself, “I said what do you want and where are you taking me?” Still nothing. She gave up the pointless exercise and lay still on the floor.

They began to stop more often and she heard other engines, car horns and voices. They must be going into the city. During the journey her panic had subsided to be replaced by anger and fear. She felt tears trickle down her cheek and the cloth become damp and cold. “You’ve no right to do this, where are you taking me?” She demanded once more, between sobs. Still no response.

Her main fear was of the unknown, who the people were, what they wanted and where they were taking her. Concern for her personal well being took second place. They had, after all, not used excessive force or injured her. What did strike her was that they were professionals. A bunch of armatures would have been excited about pulling it off, they would have been congratulating themselves, telling her to keep quiet and taunting her. She was sure they had done it all before.

When the van finally came to a halt Laura held her breath, and waited. She strained her hearing, desperate for any clue which would indicate her whereabouts. She heard the door slide open and hands dragged her across the floor of the van. Strong arms lifted her out before letting her stand once more. Somebody removed the rope from around her ankles. She felt fingers grip the cloth bag and pull her forward. Bending slightly she moved in the direction of the pull. With her arms secured behind her she feared stumbling forward with no way to break her fall.

A door opened, they passed through and then it shut with a loud clang–a metal door–perhaps an industrial building? They made their way along a corridor, she heard the echo of her heels on stone or concrete. Another door opened and she was guided inside. Pushed backwards she felt a chair against the back of her knees. “Sit,” the well spoken female voice ordered. “Now, we’re going to remove the bag. Don’t bother shouting, screaming or begging. You don’t know where you are and nobody’s coming to save you.”

Even though the room was dimly lit it took a few seconds to open her eyes fully. After some blinking her sight returned to normal. The woman sitting at a table in front of her was well dressed and attractive. Turning her head Laura looked around the room. It was large and bare apart from the table and two chairs, much like the grim rooms she saw on television in Victorian workhouses or factories. The walls were bare red brick, eroding just above ground due to the damp. A small barred window sat high up in one wall, the dark blue of the dusky sky just visible outside.

She turned to see a well built middle aged man standing behind her chair. His arms were folded and he looked down at her with a threatening stare.

“Who the hell are you and what am I doing here. This is criminal, you have no right.” Laura shouted. The woman stood up and walked over to stand in front of her chair.

“Who the hell am I?” she said, before raising her hand and slapping Laura squarely across the face. The pain was instant. “I’m the woman you need to show a little more respect to.” Then she sat back down at the table and picked up her mobile phone. Laura tried to flex her jaw muscles to ease the pain as she felt more tears falling down her cheeks.

The woman dialled a number and waited a few seconds before speaking. “Hi, yes she’s here…not fully, she might be difficult but nothing we can’t handle…yes, she should, quite attractive. I’ll keep you informed.” She pressed ‘end call’ and put the phone down before speaking to Laura. “It looks like it’s all settled then.”

“What’s all settled?” Laura said, her anger rising. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing here but you have no right to treat people like this.” The woman looked at her for a few seconds before calmly speaking.

“You need to understand what’s happening here. We have every right to treat you however we please and you will cooperate. If you choose not to do as you’re told then you’ll be made to do it. It’s as simple as that. We have high hopes for you, you should fetch a good price, and you never know, you might get lucky and things won’t go too badly for you. That doesn’t matter to us of course, we just do the selling.”

“I’m not being sold!” Laura exclaimed. You must be mad.

“I assure you we’re not, and you are to be sold. Get used to it. You can take her,” she told the man.

40

Taking her arm he helped her from the chair and they made their way out into the passageway. For a brief moment the thought of escape crossed her mind but then vanished just as quickly. What would she do, which way would she run and how far would she get? No, the prospect seemed far from realistic.

The new room they entered was very similar to the first, bare and impersonal, a similar table and chair being the only furnishings. She got the impression that nothing was permanent there, she supposed that in their line of work they needed to keep moving on. He left her standing in the centre of the room as he removed the rope still securing her wrists. “I’m going to get you something to eat and drink,” he said, “and by the time I get back I want you naked, leave your stuff on the table.” With that he left, closing the door behind him. Laura had no intention of carrying out his orders. She was there against her will and she was damned sure she would do nothing to make things easier for them.

Some time later he returned carrying a tray with what looked like pre-packaged sandwiches and a carton of orange juice. He shook his head in disbelief when he saw her still clothed. After placing the tray on the table he left the room, returning less than a minute later with another man. In his hand she noticed he carried a large pair of scissors. “I asked you nicely to take your clothes off and you haven’t; we thought you might be uncooperative. The sooner you learn to do as you’re told the easier it will be for all of us. The end result will be the same whether you choose the easy route or the difficult route.”

In unison the two men moved toward her. She tried to keep both in sight but couldn’t. The new arrival moved behind and grabbed her arms, pinning her wrists firmly together. With a desperate swing of her leg she kicked out at the one in front. He was far too quick for her and caught her ankle, holding her leg at waist height. Unable to balance or use her arms she knew her brief display of resistance was over.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll do it now,” she pleaded. The man just smiled.