He looked like hell and felt like he had been dragged arse backwards through it.
As he stumbled to the window, he collapsed to the floor, his body buckling under its injuries. He hauled himself across the floor, leaving behind a smear of blood like a dying slug.
He needed to stay alive.
At least until they’d freed Jasmine.
With the evidence of their fight to the death behind him, Sam reached for his bag, his fingers finding his rifle.
Andrei had been furious as the location of his container had been scrambled. Dmitri, the superintendent at the port who had implemented the system, had promised him it would help to evade the watchful eyes of the authorities. If they couldn’t pinpoint their own shipments until the moment of delivery, how could the authorities?
Dmitri had met them as they arrived, assuring Andrei his shipment was well protected and that he had hired ten heavies to patrol the port.
Sam Pope had been followed to the port by Oleg. It meant he was going to try to stop the shipment, which was something Andrei couldn’t allow. Ever since he had suggested the move to the UK to their uncle Sergei, Andrei had never missed a shipment. He had ruled with an iron fist, he had ordered a lot of pain and torture and been responsible for a lot of death.
All in the name of business.
As soon as Dmitri reported that the location had been hacked and scrambled, Andrei had put a bullet in the man’s head. He reviled incompetence and the man’s solution to their problem had backfired.
Andrei demanded his own men filter out into the port, team with the hired guns already patrolling, and call for further back up. The shipment would be going out as scheduled and he would make his way to Zone C, the usual location. From there, he would need to wait for the system to resend the location of his shipment. It would be the final time he would use it, the idea of spending a small fortune on a cleaner system had become unbearably preferable. As Andrei had headed towards Zone C, a series of gun blasts echoed out behind him and he watched in horror as armed police began to enter the port through the gate.
His men had engaged and now, despite his insistence on professionalism and subtlety, they were locked in a gun fight with the police themselves.
Andrei decided then that he would escape with the shipment, demanding the captain of the boat take him to his uncle and they could rethink. Prison wasn’t scary to a man as powerful and as cut throat as Andrei, but it was time consuming. The moment he stepped away from the table, there would be a power-hungry upstart ready to take his seat.
Andrei ruled over the human trafficking in London and he wasn’t ready to relinquish his throne.
Entering Zone C, he walked slowly through the dark corridors, the crates stacked high and casting ominous shadows across his path. A few floodlights loomed over the port, their beams of light fogged by the relentless down pour. The echo of rain danced around him like chattering teeth, intermittently broken by the explosion of gunshots from somewhere behind him.
He didn’t care.
His phone buzzed and he smiled evilly.
Lot 21235. Bay 64. Zone C.
Looking up at the nearest sign, Andrei could see he was only ten bays from where he needed to be. He broke into a quick jog, his drenched suit chafing against his thighs. It didn’t matter, the adrenaline of getting away with the shipment and his freedom consumed him and he raced through the final few walkways until he emerged into a large opening. The floodlights burst down like a raging sun, illuminating the crates before him.
Bay 64.
With measured steps, he approached the blue crate emblazoned with the Transcendence logo. The senior official working with the Mayor-elect had worked diligently to ensure the water ways were clear. Andrei’s donation to Harris’s campaign had been sizeable and kept secret from the man himself. The man would be mayor within the next month and Andrei knew having evidence that he had been in cahoots with his executive would make him a very powerful man.
It would open other avenues and would be extremely helpful when he needed to return to the country. With his men opening fire on the police, Andrei knew he would join Sam Pope on their list of most wanted men.
All he hoped for was that one of the men on the receiving end of those gunshots was Pope himself.
Andrei approached the front of the crate, the small keypad slick with rain water.
A timer was counting down on the small screen, the red numbers informing him he had just over two minutes before the lock would disengage and he would be able to view his merchandise. Once he had inspected the girls hadn’t been abused, he would usually give the team the go ahead to transport them to the ship and begin the short voyage back to their homeland.
This time, he wouldn’t be giving orders. He would be the merchandise itself.
If he got bored on the trip, maybe he could even experience the girls for himself. He chuckled at his own twisted version of quality control.
Behind him, the safety latch of a gun clicked.
‘Don’t move.’
Singh’s word were laced with menace and she stepped a few feet closer, narrowing the twenty feet gap between them. Andrei turned slowly, his piercing blue eyes were wild with excitement. He raised his hands in the air, refusing the temptation to reach for the gun inside his blazer. The woman before him wore a furious scowl, but she was fiercely attractive. Her slim, defined frame was evident through her drenched clothes and her brown skin added an exotic beauty.
Andrei smiled.
‘How do you think this ends for you?’ he asked, his thick accent carrying every word.
‘Open the crate,’ Singh demanded, taking a few steps to the side, her arms straight ahead, her eye trained on the
