Russian Connection

By Keith Hoare

Karen Harris is in serious trouble. With her mind, virtually destroyed by drugs, forced down her when captured in the past by traffickers, besides her inability to rely on others for help; Karen is about to go up against one of the most powerful and dangerous criminal cartels in the world, on a covert mission to find her sister, Sophie.
However, to find Sophie, Karen will need to live as a working girl, hiding among them, in order to seek out informers, who often will demand more than money for their information. If that wasn’t enough, she risks abuse, even beatings. Then, with one tiny slip on her part, it’s over, the cartel will take her. This operation for Karen, with all her experience, will be terrifying, push her to the limit and worst of all, she will be alone.

***
Russian Connection is the sequel to Nigerian Connection. While the book can be read and enjoyed as a stand alone story, you should first read Nigerian Connection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ragged Cover Publishing
• Release date: Apr 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781908090386

Book preview

Chapter One

Sophie Marshall, a woman of thirty-three, had been drugged and dumped in the boot of a car to begin a journey that would end up, for her, at a brothel in another country. Her abduction had been carefully planned, but added to this, she'd witnessed her parents shot dead before she was taken.

Now she was awake, hardly able to move in the boot, tears in her eyes as the memory of what happened began to come back to her. She'd lost her parents, her freedom. Both events, she already believed, were prompted by the actions of her sister and what she did for a job. She hated her for it, but she also knew that her sister might be the only person who had both the ability and resources to find her, and to bring to justice the people who'd killed their parents.

Sophie had little time to dwell on these thoughts before the car came to a stop and the engine cut. Moments later the boot was open.

A man called Maksim, who she recognised as the one who'd shot her parents before she was drugged, looked in at her.

I see you're awake. Get yourself out of the boot, he demanded.

Sophie struggled to do as she was told. Her entire body was in pain, her head was spinning and she felt sick. But soon she was standing, somewhat unsteadily, alongside the car, holding onto it to stop herself collapsing. She looked around; they were in a yard containing large rubbish bins and little else. The walls around were high, two large doors at the back of the yard were closed. At the other end was a building with double doors, with one door open.

Maksim grabbed her arm and marched her inside the building, kicking the door shut behind him. They were in what Sophie believed was a storeroom. It was stacked with boxes and shop fittings. He nodded towards another door. There's a toilet in there and somewhere to wash. Get in there, tidy yourself up. Then you can eat.

When Sophie came out, she'd already been sick, which made her feel a little better; she'd managed to wash in a small hand basin, drying herself with paper towels. While she was inside, Maksim had pulled out a chair from a corner of the store - he pointed at it as she emerged. Sit, was all he said. Sophie sat down and waited.

A man came into the room carrying a tray and a large plastic carrier bag. He gave Maksim the tray leaving the carrier bag on the floor before he left. Maksim handed Sophie the tray. On it was a burger with a pack of fries and a cup of coke, obviously from a fast food outlet. Sophie began eating.

You're leaving in an hour, Maksim began. The journey will be uncomfortable for you. It's inside a false wall of a lorry trailer, used by asylum seekers to get into this country. As you're exiting the country, rather than coming in, the lorries are very rarely, if ever, checked. Once across the channel you'll be transferred to a car to go onto your final destination.

Sophie looked at him, appalled at his words. Why are you doing this to me? Can't you just kill me as you did my parents?

Maksim smiled. We don't kill people who have value and you have value. You ask, why is this happening, that's simple. Your sister reneged on a deal with a Russian trafficking cartel. You don't do such things if you want to live, but she's disappeared, hiding like some scared rabbit.

Sophie looked directly at him, her voice full of defiance. Then you don't know Karen, she won't be hiding, that's not her way. Neither is she some frightened little rabbit, she doesn't recognise the word 'fear'. She will find me, and then you'll pay.

He smiled and nodded his agreement. There is no doubt when Karen finds out that her parents are dead and you missing, she will not be happy. But believe what you want, if it makes you feel better. I'd advise you, accept your new life, or expect punishments you cannot even begin to conceive of. Karen will never find you.

Silence fell in the room while Sophie finished the food, Maksim watching her all the time. When she finished, he quickly took the tray from her.

There's more suitable clothes for you to wear in the bag, put them on, he demanded.

Sophie was happy to do this. The thin evening dress she'd been wearing, when she was taken, meant she'd been very cold. Inside the bag, there were jeans, tee-shirt and a thick jumper, with a pair of slipper socks, but no shoes. She changed quickly.

Maksim handcuffed her wrists behind her back, then took her to the toilet cubicle, telling her to sit down on the closed toilet lid, before leaving her alone and locking the door from outside.

Chapter Two

Lieutenant Colonel Karen Harris was the commander of Unit T, a military force specifically formed by all the nations of the European Union to help combat people trafficking.

For the last three months, Karen's life had been a nightmare. On her last covert mission, she had been taken by traffickers, subjected to abuse and given a drug that had virtually destroyed her memory and the ability to think rationally. Following her rescue, by another female Unit T soldier, and while on leave, she received the devastating news that both her parents had been shot dead. This was bad enough, but became considerably worse after she learned her sister, Sophie, had probably been taken by the same killer, or killers and was still missing. Added to all this, in her capacity as commander of Unit T, she had been summoned to attend a meeting at military headquarters, in London, chaired by senior officers. The officer who had requested this and who was chairing the meeting had become increasingly frustrated with Karen's answers, following her refusal to elaborate on many of the operations she was currently conducting. Her refusal was not just awkwardness on her part; it was because no country had authority over her, and she answered only to a multinational EU committee that would not allow her to discuss operations with any country directly. However, having said that, she was effectively on loan to Unit T, the same as every other soldier in the unit and as such, they would still be under disciplinary control of their own country.

Now she was sitting outside the room, waiting to be called back after they had made a decision on her future. If she was concerned, she didn't show it. But to find out who had killed her parents, what happened to Sophie, she really needed the facilities of Unit T. Even so, without their help, she was still determined to find her sister. Although she suspected, by the way they had been talking, and from the fact she'd never got on in the past with Colonel Roberts, the officer who was chairing the meeting, that they were either intending to re-assign her back to a unit in the UK, or ask for her resignation.

Karen was brought out of her thoughts when the telephone on the secretary's desk began to ring. The secretary picked up the phone and listened, before putting it back. You may go in, Colonel, she told Karen.

Picking up her hat, Karen put it on again, knocked on the door and went inside. She marched up to the table where five senior officers were sitting on the other side, came to a halt and saluted.

Stand at ease, Colonel, Colonel Roberts, sitting in the centre with two senior officers to either side of him, said.

He opened his folder and after glancing down, looked up at her. We’re concerned, Colonel, that you haven't been entirely straight with us about just what you were up to in the weeks leading to your parents' deaths. Your claim that you are unable to give us information on current operations, because of your EEC mandate, doesn't hold water, in the respect that we believe you were undertaking actions beyond your remit, and of a more personal nature. This we suspect resulted in the death of a certain French officer, Lieutenant Clavier. We are also of the belief that you know more about why your parents were killed than you are admitting. Because of these concerns, we have made the decision that to leave you in charge of Unit T is high risk, in that you will use this unit in a personal pursuit of these criminals, which is not what Unit T was formed for. What, if anything, have you to say about our conclusions before we make a ruling?

Karen had expected this line of approach from them and as such had considered her response very carefully. "You are correct, Colonel Roberts, that the death of my parents was almost certainly the result of operations my unit was undertaking, and still is, against the drug and trafficking cartels. As for knowing why and who the killers are, I have no idea. If I did, the killers would be either dead or in custody by now. It's inevitable, in what I do, that my family would always be at risk. Even with protection, they insisted on living a normal life, often turning down the protection offered. Will I try to seek out the killers? Of course I will; they cannot be allowed to go after any serving soldier's family without their being exposed and brought down. If this sort of action was replicated in any conflict, then every soldier's family, including those already serving in Afghanistan and other hotspots around the world, would be at risk. As for me not being completely truthful in my actions and motivations before my parents were killed, it shows just how out of touch our military hierarchy is in this country, about the reality of taking on some of the most powerful criminal cartels in the world. Since I joined the army, I've struggled to hold my own against a barrage of complacency and, might I suggest, jealousy. Whatever you believe, I'm still probably the only soldier with the knowledge and expertise to take these people on. I'm also very highly regarded by every country, but my own, and it has already been intimated that I resign from the British army and take-up a senior position with another EU country, more in tune with what Unit T stands for. They, I've been assured, would not leave me in a position to have to beg the US for a replacement Stinger missile - which I used to destroy heroin with a street value in the millions destined for Europe - after my own country refused. Nevertheless, I'm assuming, by the way you are talking, that you consider me possibly unsuitable to remain in command of Unit T? If that is the case, I will resign immediately.

We are not here to be swayed by your reputation, Colonel Harris? Colonel Roberts retorted, with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, following her threat to resign.

Karen smiled faintly. Perhaps not, Colonel Roberts, but the choice is really very simple. Back me, or I will resign my commission. She could sense the hostility in the air between the men in the room, in particular Colonel Roberts who was looking directly at her.

We have listened to your argument, Colonel Roberts began. Which is basically a repeat of what you said to us earlier. In view of that, our decision still holds. You are to be suspended from active operations immediately until we have finished extensive investigations into the operations Unit T has been conducting. You will return to this country, to take-up a non-combat role until they are completed. Following the report, we will decide if you have been reckless, or as I suspect grossly incompetent. In which case you will be asked to resign. He leaned forward. All in all Colonel Harris, you're finished, I believe the rest of the military and the country will back our decision after they learn the real truth about you.

Karen pulled out her commission documents and threw them on the table. I feel sorry for you all, you have no idea just what is going on out there, sitting in your ivory towers, she answered him, with real hate in her manner. You can keep your bloody office job, I resign as of this moment. Then she turned to walk out of the room.

Another officer in the room called after her. Colonel Harris, do not leave this room, he ordered.

Karen stopped and looked back at him. The man who spoke was a five star general, his name, General Ross. The general first met her when she was eighteen and was the man who had brought her into the army; she had always respected him. But now, he was, as far as she was concerned, as bad as the rest. Why, are any of you man enough to stop me? Besides, why should I put up with more verbal abuse; it's obvious you don't want me and never have? she asked softly.

You will not be allowed to take up a senior position in another country to run Unit T. Politically, it won't happen. Colonel Roberts was out of line, Karen. The same as you are. Both of you are officers, act like such and both of you apologise, then you come and sit down so we can sort this out?

Karen stood for a moment. You really believe you can control my life? I don't need you, neither do I need Unit T to find my sister. So go to hell, she said, then turned and left the room.

What did I tell you gentlemen, the girl’s insane. It's good, she's resigned, there's no comeback on us, Colonel Roberts said with satisfaction.

That may be so, Colonel, but she is correct, General Ross answered. There are very few officers, if any, with the expertise that girl has in combating trafficking. If other EU countries band together, she will take back Unit T, whatever we say. In the meantime we’ve released an extremely dangerous covert operator. Do you really believe we have seen the last of her?

Perhaps not General, but while she remains a civilian, if she starts messing about as she’s done in Unit T, she'll be locked up for life, which she should have been years ago, Colonel Roberts replied.

General Ross sighed to himself. He knew Karen of old, she would run rings around them. The girl was wealthy, had the contacts and would buy the resources to take on the people who took her sister and killed her parents. She could leave egg on all their faces, before this was finished.

***

Karen sat quietly in her Cessna Mustang, awaiting clearance from air traffic control to move into take-off position. This jet aircraft was one of the very few luxuries she'd splashed out on, after completing her pilot training. Even second-hand, it had cost close to half a million pounds, but she loved flying and had needed an aircraft that could cope with flying between her home in the south of France and major European cities, both reliably and safely. Secretly, she hadn't blamed General Roberts for talking to her like he had. What he, and the other officers didn't know, was that she still had serious problems with her memory after being subjected to the vicious drug forced into her by the Nigerian trafficker, Chuks, during her captivity in Istanbul. The drug had been designed to destroy a person's mind. While she missed the last two doses that would have certainly done that, if she'd not been rescued, the doses she had been given were more than sufficient to place her in such a position that sometimes, even now, she couldn't associate words with what they were actually describing. As for her memory of certain events and people in her life, most of them had been destroyed. This had been very apparent to people around her during her parents' funeral. People were coming up to her, offering their condolences, and yet she didn't know any of them. Even a man she'd known for years, Sir Peter Parker and his family, she'd just walked straight past, not recognising any of them. Many had put this lack of recognition down to shock and were very supportive, and yet Karen struggled to hide the fact that she couldn't really have cared less about her parents; she didn't even know them anymore, so their loss was as if she'd been watching a funeral of two unknown people in a television news report. Karen also had problems with her identity at times. During her time with the trafficker, when he'd been giving her the drug, he'd also had the intention of using her in his brothel, and so to that end he'd worked on convincing her she was a prostitute. In fact, every day of her captivity, morning and night, he'd subjected her to vicious punishments, by the use of an electric cattle rod, or a whipping from a cat-of-nine-tails whip. Along with such punishment, she was required to keep telling him she was a prostitute, what a prostitute did and also show him. Now, away from him, and even with the knowledge that he was dead, offering no threat to her, she still had this overwhelming belief, at times, that deep down she really was and always had been a prostitute. Then, with her memories of the past so hazy, and these thoughts still dominating her mind, she couldn't remember being anything else.

Karen was brought out of her thoughts when her headphones came to life with air traffic control, giving her clearance to proceed to the take-off point.

***

With her resignation, Karen was not allowed to land on the Unit T airfield, so she'd arranged to use a small private landing strip, some three miles from her home. A taxi was waiting for Karen when she drove her aircraft up to the hangar entrance, and cut the engines. Now sitting in the back of a car, she was looking out of the window as they passed through the French countryside, before the taxi turned onto a private road. Normally at this point there would be a security check, but the small hut for this was deserted, the barrier preventing access to the private road left up.

Once at the house, Karen climbed out of the taxi, paid off the driver and stood looking up at her home. This was the first time she’d been there since her parents' death. She had been dreading it. The drug she had been given, while in the hands of traffickers, had killed all memory of this house. Karen couldn’t believe just how large it was; even now, standing at the entrance, she could remember little about it.

The housekeeper ran down the entrance steps and stood silently until Karen acknowledged her. Hi, do I know you? Karen asked.

I’m Mia, Lady Harris. I used to look after the house, she replied, a little confused as to why Karen wouldn’t know her, but my husband's on his way, so I'll be leaving now you have arrived.

Do you really have to go? Karen asked.

She nodded. I'm sorry, but I understand that the house is being sold. As it is now effectively closed up, I cannot see a need for me. I feel very let down, Lady Harris, by the way I've been treated, after all I've done here. I've already secured a new position and was only waiting for you to arrive. I've left the fridge well-stocked as you asked.

At that moment a car came up the drive.

Here's my husband, I must go. These are all the keys I have, including those of the Unit T soldiers who used to protect the house, she said, handing Karen a bunch of keys. Then she walked away, without even a goodbye.

As the car disappeared down the drive, Karen just shrugged indifferently, making her way round the house past an already empty swimming pool, the loungers stacked neatly and tied up. Then she followed a narrow but well-tended path to the barn, unlocking the door with one of the keys Mia had given her. It was spotless, laid out as a comfortable sitting area, with television and a few sports training items and was used by the soldiers who guarded the house. Through the back were two rooms with three beds in each and a smaller room at the end with one bed. She sighed and left the barn, going through to the house, wandering around the different rooms, all beautifully furnished. Off the main hall was a locked door. None of the keys Mia had given her fitted. So Karen rummaged through her own bag, pulling out a bunch. One of those fitted and she found herself in a small lounge, with a number of doors leading off it. Inside one was an office, another was a meeting room with a large television at the far end with a video conferencing camera below.

Apart from a door that led to the toilet, the last door was locked. Again going through her own keys, she found one that opened it. Once inside there was a large safe set in the far wall, and in the corner of the room were four good-sized holdalls, each with a security seal on with her own name signed across them.

Karen broke the seal of the first holdall and pulled the zip open. She looked at the bundles of currency packed inside. Removing a few, she found a number of gold bars below, each wrapped in clear polythene. Opening the next two holdalls, they again contained a mixture of currency, with more gold bars. The last holdall also had gold bars at the bottom, but rather than currency, stacked on top of the bars were around forty small brown cardboard boxes. Opening one box, there were a number of polythene bags, each containing twenty sparkling stones that looked to Karen to be diamonds.

Closing the bags up, she stood for a moment, looking down at them. Who did they belong to and why were they here? Karen didn’t have a clue. Then she walked over to the large safe and without thinking turned the dials to numbers that opened it. Again, she couldn’t understand how she was able to remember instantly what the combination was, while not knowing where the holdalls came from. Inside the safe were a few small piles of various currencies, jewellery cases and documents.

Deciding she should at least place the diamonds and the gold bars in the main safe, on their own shelves, she began moving what was in the safe to one shelf. Twenty minutes later and after a lot of shuffling around, she’d been able to fit the diamonds and gold bars in. Then after closing the safe, she closed the holdalls containing the cash and left the room, carefully locking the door once more.

Inside her office, she keyed the question of gold's value into the internet. With the 80 bars spread across the four bags, it seemed there were at least two million pounds in gold value alone. Karen leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen. How she wished she could bring thoughts together for parts of her life that seemed to be missing. She had the belief that she’d know why the bags had been left there then. As it was, there was a considerable amount of value in the bags that she couldn’t account for. Her other concern was that it would have been unlikely that she had brought them into the room on her own, so others would know about the holdalls and maybe what they contained.

***

It was late afternoon. Karen had pulled a lounger out and since lunch, when she'd put together what was in the fridge, she'd been lying back, thinking about nothing in particular.

A car came up the drive and sounded its horn. Karen stood and walked around the house to see who it was. There was one man in the car.

The man climbed out. Lady Harris, Francis Coe, from the estate agents, he said, introducing himself to her, at the same time holding his hand out.

She took his hand and shook it.

Yes, I'd forgotten you were coming. Would you like to look around the house?

Very much, I would also like to bring my photographer to take suitable photos. I believe the offer price is to be in the region of six million euros and includes the extensive surrounding forestland?

Karen shrugged. It includes everything, even the furniture. If they don't want what's inside, then it's to be sent to auction.

I fully understand. Will you be staying in France? If so, we have a number of superb properties on our books similar to this?

No, I'm leaving the country.

He nodded his understanding, making notes on a small pad that he'd pulled from his pocket. Viewings... when can we take clients around? Already we have clients who have voiced real interest in this property, so we don't expect it to be on the market long.

I'll be here for a week, to pack up my personal possessions. They are going into storage, a container will be arriving next Wednesday. If you are available, you can collect the key and then take over the security of the house until it's sold.

That would be perfect timing for us. With you not being here, we have arranged twenty-four-hour security to be on site as you requested?

That's fine. Forward me offers to my London address, but I've no intention of giving the house away so don't waste my time with silly offers.

Chapter Three

Sophie had arrived at a large country house, after a long journey. All the time she'd travelled, she had been chained up with no chance of escape, and mostly in the back of lorries or windowless vans. She had no idea where she was. Now she was in a small room, on the top floor of the house. It had one small barred window, a wardrobe, two easy chairs, a small table and a double bed. She'd been told to remove all her clothes and given a housecoat with no buttons, then left alone. Sophie was very tired and lay down on the bed.

Around two hours later a girl came into the room. She looked at Sophie and nodded. I'm Ashley, they told me the last girl who was in here was sold and someone else would be coming. You're English aren't you?

Sophie stood and offered her hand. Yes, my name's Sophie.

Ashley shook it, then taking a hanger from the wardrobe with a housecoat on the same as Sophie was wearing, put it on the bed and began to undress. She'd come into the room dressed in a short skirt, with a small top, exposing her