Sold Into Freedom - 3. Chapter 3

Ralf parked the SUV as far from the road as possible. The low bushes and trees would hide the dark vehicle from anyone driving.

"Great." Tomas peered down at his phone. "You got us here on time."

Ralf blew out and let his head fall back. "What time is it?" He rubbed his neck where the seatbelt chaffed.

"It’s nine-forty. We'll get the cargo out and move him to the point. Then we wait."

"They’re never late." Ralf unbuckled his seatbelt. "It was nice we had extra time to stop along the way, but it’ll be good to get rid of him and get paid."

"Yeah, he’s been a royal pain in the ass." Tomas looked back at Matt, who was asleep.

Ralf looked over. "In your case, a pain in the face. How is it feeling anyway? It looks okay, not red or anything, so I don’t think it’s infected."

"Yeah, it’s not awful." Tomas' fingertips gingerly touched his face before undoing his seatbelt and opening the door. "Let’s get moving." He stepped out and locked the door. "Don’t forget the damn keys."

I locked them in once, and he will not forget it. Ralf smiled and held up the keys. He made a show of putting them into his front left pocket. "I’ve got them, no problem."

"Great. Let’s get going."

"Sure." Ralf opened the rear door. "Hey, Matt. Come on. You need to get up."

Matt was awake, and his stomach sank when Ralf spoke. The captive man groaned.

"Jesus, Matt. Get the fuck up, or I will drag you down there, so help me." Tomas had opened the opposite door. "I'm sick of this shit from you. You think this was hard? Just wait for what's coming. Get UP!"

"Fine. I’m up." Matt stared at Tomas, who then slammed the door. He wondered what Tomas had meant. What is coming?

"Swing your legs over. I'm going to remove the ankle chains. Try anything and you’ll be sorry." Ralf leaned down to remove the leg shackles. "You can’t climb over rocks or into the boat with leg chains on."

Rocks? Boat? Where am I going? Matt stared down at his feet as Ralf removed the shackles. What am I going to do?

"Okay, that's done. You can get out." Ralf dropped the chains onto the floor of the SUV. "We need to get moving."

Matt slid the rest of the way out of the seat to the paved parking lot. His knees were shaking, and he stumbled forward. "I don’t think I can stand up."

Tomas moved quickly, gripped Matt’s arm just above the elbow, and pulled him along. Through gritted teeth, Tomas hissed, "Move it, asshole."

But for the odd grunt, Matt stumbled along in silence.

Ralf locked their vehicle and then followed the other two. He patted his pocket to ensure the keys were there.

After a short walk, they reached a rocky outcropping. Together, Tomas and Ralf got Matt down over the uneven terrain nearer to the water. The ocean was quiet, and the waves lapped against the rocks gently.

Tomas pointed at a flat-topped boulder. "Sit down. Now we wait."

It was cool but not cold, yet Matt could not stop his teeth from chattering. Above him, the dark sky was filled with stars. The breeze off the water increased his shivering, and goosebumps rose on his skin. He wrapped his arms around himself. He was alone and terrified.

Ralf felt a little sorry for their prisoner. He laid a hand on Matt’s shoulder. "Relax. They won’t hurt you. They need you to be okay. Just do as you’re told, and it'll be all right."

Matt moaned softly and rocked. The fear building in his gut silenced him.

"Shh. I think I hear a motor." Tomas squatted and looked out over the dark ocean. He listened. "Yeah, it’s there." He turned around to look at Ralf. "They’ll be here soon."

Moments later, the sound of the engine stopped. The trio waited quietly on the shore.

It took ten minutes for a boat to arrive. Tomas rose to help them and held the rope they tossed him.

A voice from one of the boat's occupants said, "Okay, let's get him on."

Ralf tugged on Matt’s arm. "Come on. It’s time to go."

Matt was desperate. "Where? Please tell me."

"Shh, hey. We don't know where, just that you have to go with them. They'll take care of you now." Ralf got Matt to his feet and guided him toward the waiting boat. Tomas also helped steer their now struggling cargo. Matt slipped on the rocks nearer the water, and his captors hung onto him.

"Great. Is this asshole gonna be trouble?" A voice from the rigid rubber boat hissed.

Tomas answered. "Yeah, if you've got anything to fucking calm him down, get it ready."

"M, a hypo."

"On it, D."

There was movement and a small shaft of light in the boat, and the voice said, "Here. And hurry up."

Tomas took the needle and passed it to his partner.

Ralf pushed Matt down onto another rock. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and jabbed the needle into Matt’s upper arm through his shirt. He injected the contents.

Matt grunted in pain. Working quickly, Ralf and Tomas moved their prisoner down into the boat. Finally, safe aboard, hands steadied Matt and helped him to sit. He slumped forward as the contents of the syringe took effect.

"We’ve got to go. Here’s your money." The sailor called D held a small package. "Key?"

Ralf handed Tomas the key for the handcuffs.

"Yeah." Tomas handed over the key and took the plastic-wrapped packet. "Thanks."

"Let’s go," said D. "We’re out of time."

The sailors moved off, using a paddle to push the boat away from the rocks. Once they were far enough offshore, a crewman started the engine, and the Zodiac quickly disappeared.

After watching the craft depart, Tomas and Ralf climbed back up and off the rocks.

"You okay, Ralfie?"

"Yeah."

"You shouldn’t get attached to these dicks." Tomas knocked into Ralf’s shoulder.

Ralf smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I know."

"Come on. Unlock the car. Let's have a drink, then drive for a bit. We'll find a motel and then get some breakfast."

"Sounds good." Ralf grabbed a couple of cans from their cooler and then climbed in. He handed a can to Tomas. After closing his door, he put on his seat belt and started the engine. Before backing up, he turned and looked out over the ocean. He could hear Tomas counting their money.

⸛

Matt stayed quiet as the Zodiac sped over the water, heading back to the ship it had come from. Once in a while, the cold spray made it over the side and roused him for a moment before he slipped again into an uneasy, drugged sleep.

The others in the boat spoke very little. That changed somewhat as they drew closer to their destination.

"Should I put the hood on?"

Dante shook Matt, who groaned and remained bent forward. "No, don't bother; he's so out of it, he won't remember anything. The hood might freak him out more. We'll check again once we get a bit closer."

"Okay, D."

About ten minutes later, Dante grasped Matt's shoulder. "Hey, hey. Wakey wakey. Hey! What’s your name? Huh?" Hands grabbed his arms and shook him. "Come on. What's your name?"

Matt whimpered and tried to lift his head. D prodded him a little longer before he came around enough to answer. "Okay, geez. My name's Matt."

"Okay, Matt. We're getting close to your new temporary home. I'll put this hood on, and when we stop, we'll help you up the ladder." A man had moved closer to him. "I'm D, that's what you'll call me. You need to let me help you so we can all get up the ladder safely."

God, I feel drunk. Matt turned to look at the speaker. "Hood?"

"That's right. You wear the hood, and we help you up, okay?"

"Yeah. I understand."

Dante smiled, "Excellent. You’re a smart boy."

Matt’s need for a friend was overwhelming. In desperation, he asked, "You’re gonna help me?"

Dante felt a modicum of sympathy for Matt. "Yeah, I’ll help you. Once we’re on the boat, I’m gonna find you some food and a place to sleep. You’re going to be all right."

The boat slowed. "Two minutes, D."

"Okay." Dante turned to Matt. "I’m going to put this hood on now. I’ll be right here with you." He lifted the hood and placed it over Matt’s head. "I’m going to tighten it a bit."

Matt tensed as the hood blocked his vision; the tightening of it made him clutch his knees to control his fear. His guts felt watery as terror flooded through him.

D noticed and rubbed the young man's back. "Don't worry. No one here wants to hurt you. I know you're scared, but it won’t be long. You'll be on board soon. Then you can relax."

The boat decelerated once more.

Dante said, "M, get ready to tie us off."

Though he couldn’t see, Matt turned his head, trying to peer through the hood. He wanted to run, to tear it off, but his hands were still chained together.

"You need to focus on my voice now, Matt. Listen and then do as I say, and you'll be fine." Dante grasped Matt's elbow and helped him to his feet. "Turn around now. I’ll be here to help you."

Matt followed the directions and stopped when the pressure from Dante’s hand told him to. "Okay."

"Walk forward now a few steps. Good. Stop. Reach forward with both hands, up a little. Grab on. Good. Now lift your right leg. Wait, I'll help."

Dante placed Matt's raised foot on the side of the boat. "Okay, pull yourself up. Stop and hold on. Now the other foot. Perfect. Don't let go."

The ladder was slick, and Matt held the rungs as his shoes slipped. His inability to see heightened his fear and panic. Progress was slow as he hung on with chained hands and groped blindly for the next rung.

"Come on, Matt." D called up to the new asset. "You're nearly there and we don't have all night."

Relief flooded Matt as hands grasped him and pulled him onto the deck. "Th-thanks." He felt damp from the spray and depleted from the effort. Behind him, he heard Dante.

"Hood's coming off and these chains. Now, let's get you some food, drink, and a bed."

Matt squinted at the sudden brightness as the hood was removed. He managed to rub his wrists for a second as the shackles came off and before D clenched his arm and propelled him forward. Matt stumbled down a passageway and into the Crew's mess with his captor.

Dante pointed at an empty table. "Sit. I'll be right back."

Matt lowered himself onto a chair. D soon joined him and dropped a sandwich and a bottle of water before him. Forcing himself to eat the sandwich, he glanced at his new friend D, who sat with him. It was hard to see his D's face as he wore a baseball cap pulled down to his eyes, and he had a thick beard.

"Eat that, and then you can go and sleep." D was telling him.

Once he’d finished and had some water, Matt asked, "Can you tell me what’s gonna happen to me? Where am I going?"

"Where depends on who buys you."

"Buys?"

Dante smiled. "Yeah. I know you know that, Matt. Anyway, we're going to tidy you up. You're a hot guy and someone will snap you up in a heartbeat. Then you'll go and live with them." Dante rose and said, "Up. Let's get you a bed."

Matt followed obediently down the passage and waited while D unlocked another door. Matt was silent as Dante led him to a single mattress on the floor. In the room were four other young men asleep.

"Go to sleep now, Matt."

Matt nodded and lay down. He watched D exit and heard the door lock click into place. He wiped away hot tears that fell silently. Matt lay awake for a little while until the yacht’s engines lulled him to sleep.

⸛

I’m ready. Paper and pen, check. Shit. Andrew sat at his desk, waiting for the designated time.

He obsessively straightened the pad of paper and pen in front of him. He felt nervous, and his mouth was dry. Jesus. What am I doing?

The phone rang before Andrew could answer that question. He swiped to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Andrew MacCabe?"

"Yes, this is he."

"You wish to speak with us, I understand."

"If you're Mr. Black, yes, that's right."

"I speak for Mr. Black. He will not discuss this by phone. He invites you to join him. You will receive couriered instructions on where and when to meet. Bring four sharpened pencils only. If there are any pens or electronics, the interview is canceled. You will be met and transported by boat. If you are late, the interview is canceled. Is this clear?"

"Yes, it’s clear."

"Goodbye." The call disconnected.

"Jesus." Andrew's heart pounded. He stared at his mobile phone for a few minutes before placing it on the desk in front of him.

There was a knock at his office door, which then opened slowly.

"Andrew? May I come in?" The woman’s voice was soft.

MacCabe took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Maeve. It’s fine."

Maeve Riley was his housekeeper and had been with Andrew since he’d sold his first book. The older woman stepped into the room carrying a tray. "I've brought lunch."

"Oh, thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t come out." Andrew stood to receive the platter. "I had a call I could not afford to miss."

"Tis fine, Andrew. I ne’er mind bringing you lunch."

Andrew looked at the bowl of thick potato leek soup and the coarse but delicious homemade bread on a plate beside it. "This looks wonderful. Thank you." Andrew retook his seat and picked up the spoon. "Maeve, I am expecting a couriered package. I’m not sure when it will arrive, but can you please bring it to me as soon as it does?"

"Aye, yes, of course. Is there anything else right now?" Maeve smiled at her employer. She didn't like intruding on his days as he often wrote.

Evenings on Eilean Gaothach—Windy Island—were often spent together, reading or playing board games in front of the fire. These evenings were often accompanied by a dram or two of the best single malt from the Abhainn Dearg Distillery on Lewis Island.

"No, this is wonderful. I'll join you tonight for a film or a chat."

"All right, Andrew." The housekeeper smiled and walked from the room.

The writer picked up the spoon but returned it to the napkin beside the steaming soup bowl. The gravity of his choice was on his mind, so he took several deep, cleansing breaths to try to dispel negative thoughts.

You've made your bed now, Andrew. Don't do anything stupid for once in your life! Now, we need to see how it all plays out.

Finally, he could dip the heavy soup spoon into the thick potato soup and maneuver it to his mouth.

As he ate, Andrew reviewed reports on humans smuggled to support the sex trade. Many unfortunate people were brought into countries to supply forced labour for domestic work, construction, and agriculture. While it's most often women and girls in the commercial sex industry, some victims are male.

That's where Mr. Black and his friends come in. They deal only in males, but these are private sales. What happens to these young men? That's what I want to know.

Andrew collected up his dishes and carried the tray out to the kitchen.

"Thanks, Maeve. That was delicious as usual." MacCabe stopped to watch the older woman roll out pastry.

"Oh, I'm glad you enjoyed it." She turned and caught him watching. "Steak and kidney pie tonight, along with taters and cabbage."

"Sounds delicious."

"Oh, it’s just simple food." Maeve lifted the pastry into the pie tin.

Andrew’s phone rang. He looked at the screen. "Sorry, Maeve, I need to take this."

The housekeeper nodded.

Walking to the kitchen door, Andrew answered. "Hey ... I’m sorry. I’ve been busy, Tony ... At the moment, I can't leave the island."

Maeve looked up from her work. "Tell him to come here, Andrew."

Andrew shot her an irritated look. "No, Tony. I’m not sure. Yeah, once I can get away. Sure, we’ll talk soon. Bye."

"Andrew, why don’t you just have him over here?"

"I don’t want to put you out."

"I don’t know why you pretend in front of me." Maeve spooned thick stew into the crust. "It’s not like I’ve not seen your boyfriends before."

"What? I’m not pretending. But I’m not looking for the relationship he is trying to make me want." Andrew shoved his phone into his pocket. "At least not at this time. I've got some serious things coming up, and I can't be dealing with Tony now."

"All right. I would like to see you happy."

Andrew smiled at the older woman. He walked over and kissed her cheek. "I love you too."

"Get out!" She was laughing. "Go do your important work!"

⸛

Several days later, Maeve heard a knock at the door. It was such a rare occurrence that the housekeeper waited for the second knock to ensure she’d heard it.

She headed toward the door. "I’m coming." Slowly, Maeve opened the door. "Yes?"

"I have a package for Andrew MacCabe." The man, wearing a bright yellow jacket, ran a hand through his messy hair, which was caused by the endless wind that blew off the sea.

Maeve eyed the courier. "This is his home. I’m the housekeeper, and you can give me the package."

"Yes, ma'am. These are time-sensitive and should be opened immediately." The courier pulled a tablet from within his coat. "Can you sign here please?"

Nodding, Maeve signed with the stylus and held out her hands to receive the documents. "I’ll see to it that Mr. MacCabe gets them right away. Thank you."

"Thanks." The courier turned away and jogged down the path to the dock.

Maeve closed the door and went to Andrew’s office. She could hear him on the phone when she knocked.

"Come in."

The housekeeper pushed open the door. She held up the package. "This just arrived."

Andrew’s eyes widened. "Hold on," he said into the phone. Addressing Maeve, he said,

"Bring it in, please." He rose to meet her.

He took the padded envelope. "Thanks, Maeve. Do you think I could have a cup of tea?"

She smiled. "Of course." Then, walking toward the door, she said, "Don't think I don't know, you just want me out of the way."

He grinned and turned his attention to the phone. "Marnie, I have to go. Listen, I'll call you back, and we can arrange to meet soon. Thanks, take care."

Andrew put the phone down. Then he placed the package beside it and settled into his chair. He placed his broad hands on the envelope and took a deep breath. His mother always calls them labourers' hands; they are hands meant for work, not writing.

Smiling at the memory, Andrew picked up the package and reached for his silver letter opener.

He lifted the closed edge with the tip and slid the knife along, opening it. Inside the brown padded envelope was a single sheet of paper. He slid it out carefully. If I tear this one, there will not be another.

Andrew read the instructions. Be at the northeasternmost point from Green End's Gully at 10 pm on Wednesday, 10 October. You'll be met by three men, who will take you by Zodiac to the yacht. You will be hooded as you near the ship. You may bring only four sharpened pencils and a small 6"x 9" spiral-bound notebook in a clear plastic bag. You and your belongings will be scanned and searched. Do not attempt to bring anything more. Failure to follow these instructions will ensure the interview is canceled permanently.

"They sound serious." The author closed his eyes briefly and considered his next steps. I need to fly to Edinburgh on Tuesday and get south on Wednesday.

Andrew called his travel agent. He asked for Karen and explained what he wanted to do.

After several minutes, she returned to the phone. "Okay, Andy. I’ve arranged for a flight from Stornoway to Edinburgh on Tuesday at noon, and there's a car rental set up for Enterprise. When are you coming back?"

"I’m not sure about the date at the moment. Thanks, Karen. That’s what I need."

"No problem. Do you need a hotel room?"

Andrew considered for a moment. "No, thanks. I have a place to stay. It's just a short visit. I’ll be in touch when I need a return ticket."

"All right. I’ll email you the tickets and the details."

"Great, thanks, Karen." Andrew disconnected the call. He drew in and released a calming breath. Suddenly, the air felt thinner.

"I'll take the small boat over Tuesday morning and catch a taxi to the airport." Andrew leaned back in his chair. Yeah, I'll do that and hope I know what I'm bloody letting myself in for.

He wiped his palms on his shirt and pressed them against his pounding heart. "Jesus, get a grip, Andrew." After shaking his head, he turned his chair and stared out the picture window at the bent, wind-blown trees and the sea before him.

****