Face and Honour: Dream Team Adventures, #2

By Brian George

In this second Dream Team adventure, the team fight a Thai people trafficker and a kidnap for a forced Islamic marriage. Barry, Annie, and Stella's matchmaking vacation in Thailand brings them up against a woman who traffics in human beings. Stella's father's attempt to gain honour by kidnapping & selling his daughter takes them across West Africa. They fight injustice by getting down & dirty. Those cultural concepts of Face and Honour are tackled with violent retribution & rough justice. Their fast-moving and unconventional lifestyle parties them through in this romp of a tale.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brian George
• Release date: Jan 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393308973

Brian George

Brian George is the author of the Dream Team series of which Face and Justice is the first, followed by Face and Honour, & Face, Fire & Morality? Then New Blood, New Targets. He also writes Romances under the name Byron George. He spent many years working internationally and weaves many of his personal experiences and observations into his novels.  

Book preview

Brian George

Chapter 1: London

At Mackeson and Mather’s, a London blue-chip merchant bank, Morgan Transett had just settled into his plush office between the ancient buildings close to the London Bridge. Overlooking the old cobbled street below, he was staring out of the window, reflecting on his good fortune since the death of his former boss, Grant Vigor. Six months prior, Grant had been killed in a mysterious hit-and-run incident after leaving the office late one misty night. The perpetrator hadn’t been caught, and no trace of a car had ever been found. Indeed, there were no clues as to how he had come to die. It was as if Grant had just flipped himself over onto the pavement and broken his neck on the heavy eighteenth-century kerbstones, a theory to which the inquest jury had seemingly subscribed, given that they delivered a verdict of accidental death.

As there were no other suspicions after the verdict was pronounced, the police enquiry was disbanded entirely. Morgan had been given his former boss’s position as head of the bank’s venture capital arm, which promoted new or existing companies that wished to grow into giant organisations. Morgan’s relatively small but usually very profitable section provided these companies with financial expertise and packaged deals. The only failure that Morgan’s department had experienced was with a Dubai-based company. In that deal, a London arm had ceased trading a few months after the input of some twenty million pounds sterling, which was one of his old boss Grant’s recommendations. Morgan had assisted. The bank had pulled the plug before it experienced further huge losses, or so it said. The bank’s decision to rescind the financing for that little business was, on the face of things, to prevent the loss of some prestigious construction projects in the United Arab Emirates and Qatar, but, in actuality, it was to cover up a large-scale fraudulent confidence trick that Barry Parker, a former client who had been nearly bankrupted when the bank legally stole his business in a promised merger operation some few years previous, had played on the venture capitalists.

When they had decided to fund the original Dubai set-up, Grant and Morgan had been entertained by Barry Parker’s entourage. Certain photographs were taken which would have shown any investors that the bank’s judgement had been influenced by the men’s visit to the desert states. Therefore, Grant Vigor had covered up the losses to the other institutional investors and began acting on a personal vendetta against Barry’s assistants, during which a Chinese woman and sometime courtesan named Lin Fu had almost been killed after she was raped and beaten by one of Grant’s proxy undercover lawyers-cum-private-detectives in the Gulf region. This cruel German had seemingly died after a bizarre homosexual game at his Dubai apartment; he fell from his terrace balcony dressed in lederhosen that had been cut into a peculiarly sexually accessible shape. It seemed that justice had been done all round: Barry Parker’s revenge was complete, and Lin Fu had been saved after receiving treatment from Barry’s assistants Annie, the former Chinese bar hostess and Stella, the Nigerian former madam. Even Morgan Transett, who was a basically reasonable guy and had been seduced in Dubai by Lin Fu as part of the scam, could not bear a grudge because the older Chinese woman had opened his heart and sensuality, giving the younger, naive Transett the sexual training that he hadn’t received in his early years. Barry Parker showed Morgan the pictures of what had been done to Lin Fu. It had hurt Morgan to think that his boss might have had something to do with it. He had never had the chance to confront Grant Vigor about it because that very same night had been the evening of Grant’s demise. If Barry Parker was responsible for the death of Grant Vigor, then Morgan would have been implicated too. At the very same time, he had been with Barry in a public house in London, looking at the pictures of Lin Fu in hospital.

As it turned out, Morgan had inherited Grant Vigor’s position, along with its perks, and had benefitted considerably from his death, so he wasn’t about to rock the boat by voicing any theories about Grant’s death. As Morgan looked out the window, he couldn’t help but wonder what Lin Fu was doing just then. The older Chinese woman had taken care of him so well that he had reserved an eternal place for her in his heart. Given the opportunity, he would love to find her and make amends. It was at that strange, pensive moment that an envelope landed on his desk.

The envelope was fancy, red-gilt edged, and seven-by-five inches. It contained an invitation to an ASEAN Banking Conference to be held in Bangkok. Also enclosed was a business-class air ticket and a request for his attendance at a meeting of the venture capital arms of the various Asian banks. The envelope also contained a cover letter from a Mr Pitchit Sunchaipattalam, chairman of the sponsoring bank’s organising committee, asking Morgan to confirm his attendance via e-mail, which information was necessary to reserve a hotel room for the week concerned. The letter also said that if Morgan had any further questions, then he should contact Sunchaipattalam personally. Morgan thought that he could actually do with a break from the tough regimen he had established for himself at work since taking over for Grant Vigor. He checked with his superiors at Mackeson and Mather to see if he would be allowed to attend, not wanting to appear as receiving any special favours. The event was checked out and the names on the invitation were confirmed, so Morgan booked the dates in his diary and planned for the forthcoming conference, adding a week or so extra to allow for some vacation time whilst he was in Bangkok. He e-mailed his response. A few days later, a detailed schedule arrived, along with the reservations for the J. W. Marriott’s executive floor on Sukhumvit Road, Soi 2, in the area known as Nana.

Chapter 2: Thailand

Annie, whose real Chinese name was Li Xiao Ying, and her dear friend Lin Fu waited with Barry Parker in the arrival’s hall at the aging, rundown Don Mueang Airport just outside of Bangkok, Thailand, for the flight from Africa. The three of them looked relaxed and prosperous. Barry was in his casual chino trousers and a light blue, breathable T-shirt. Wearing a pair of brown leather tasselled loafers with no socks, which gave the impression of rugged chic, he stood behind the two smart Chinese women. Annie was dressed in a loose-fitting pair of long, white designer shorts and a simple white silk blouse, with kitten-heeled strappy sandals, looking as cool as ever. Lin Fu, always the graceful one, wore a more traditional simple black cotton dress with a small slit at the side and black high-heeled shoes with a slight platform sole. All of a sudden, the two women broke into excitement, standing on tiptoe and waving as a tall black woman appeared from behind the screens, pulling a small wheelie bag behind her. Stella Relimi Okosa looked up and broke into her characteristic smile upon seeing her pals, her beautifully sculptured cheekbones enhanced by very slight tribal scars. She was dressed in colourful blue-and-white-striped flared silk trousers and a white blouse that looked almost the same as the one Annie was wearing. Annie and Stella had an uncanny, almost telepathic way of dressing to match each other. But because of her height, Stella wore some soft, jewelled Arabian flat shoes. These made her sway her gorgeous African butt jauntily as she moved towards them. The women all hugged each other, giggling and kissing on the cheeks, whilst Barry looked on and grinned. When the women had finished with their girly greetings, Stella took a pace forward, threw her arms around Barry’s neck, and kissed him full on the lips. Oh, I’ve missed you, lover, so, so much. It’s great to see you again. It’s been too long. She almost leered at him.

Oh, oh. Barry laughed. He intuitively knew what Stella meant – that she would expect him to make love to her at the first opportunity.

Annie dragged Stella away by the arm, laughing and saying, Come on. You can have him later. Annie lived with Barry most of the time. She was absolutely tolerant of the times when Stella joined them.

The four of them walked outside to a pre-booked four-by-four, the three women squeezing into the rear together and Barry climbing into the front passenger seat. They headed off on the two-hour-plus journey to Pattaya, the infamous city on the Eastern Seaboard of the Gulf of Siam. Barry dozed most of the way, catching up on sleep because of the early start at four o’clock that morning, but the girls chattered incessantly, catching up on each other’s lives. Although Annie and Stella spoke regularly on the telephone about business matters, they hadn’t been able to discuss the sort of gossip about their unconventional shared relationship with Barry because other people had been around.

The driver left the teeming metropolis of Bangkok by travelling along the high toll road. Then, the four-by-four went on through the lush Thai countryside. On either side of the roadway, many giant advertising billboards for new housing developments or products as diverse as mouthwashes and beauty creams seemed to grow from the fields that bordered small wooden shanty homes or Buddhist temples, but there was still plenty of open space and greenery. The drive, at times, was hairy, as crazy motorists swapped lanes at high speed all around the four-by-four, but their driver kept solid in his middle lane, unfazed by all of the honking horns and after being cut in front of by cars and pickup trucks loaded with what appeared to be twenty or more passengers sitting quietly and going to work who-knows-where. Eventually, they passed the large Regent International School on the left, a beautiful piece of architecture set back like a stately European home. This landmark meant that they were only about twenty minutes away from the outskirts of Pattaya. The women were excitedly watching for other sights along the way. Many small motorbikes started to appear on both sides of the road, many travelling in the opposite direction but on their side of the road. It appeared that whole families were astride those motorbikes, something that always made Barry shake his Westernised head in wonder. But the women, all from the outreaches of the developing world, just took it in their stride.

Once they turned left onto the main Sukhumvit highway at Pattaya Nua, shops and offices sprung up all around. These sold cars, furniture, and white goods – and were situated alongside schools and hospitals. One knows when one is in the infamous and fascinating city of Pattaya, which in the space of thirty years had grown from one small street serving the US forces’ R & R requirements during the Vietnam War to a large metropolis. On the face of it, Pattaya is completely reliant on the vicissitudes of the sex industry, but underneath, it has a charming liberality and an atmosphere of acceptance. People can be what they want to be here. The place provides work for many Thais from all over the country who are eager to feed their families, but the majority of incomers seem to emanate from Isaan in the north-east, from the Lao or Khmer tribes along the Thai border with Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. Pattaya is a place where many expatriates end up after escaping from overbearing Western bureaucracies or just coming in search of a hedonistic lifestyle in a place where almost anything goes. Homosexuals and transvestites of many varieties and of both genders live and work alongside heterosexuals and are accepted for ordinary jobs as well as at the many bars and clubs where the workers rely on selling their bodies to add to their small salaries. But even that is too simplistic, as many of these people meet and marry or live together and thereby provide for another poor family. The economy of Isaan would probably collapse if this city did not exist or cleaned up that which affronts some of the more judgemental busybodies of the Western persuasion. Hence, this place was perfect for a vacation for Barry and his team.

One of Annie’s friends from the days when she worked in the Monitor Bar in Dubai was a Thai woman who had inherited a small bungalow in a newish development from her elderly British husband, who had died of a heart attack. In her mid thirties, this woman had to go back to work, but she made a little money by occasionally renting out the property. Annie had contacted her and had subsequently taken the place for six months. Since Barry had set Annie and Stella up in their export and import business, they had become wealthy and self-sufficient, employing some of the former working girls whom they trusted. Now they could afford a little vacation time and keep in touch with the business by electronic means.

They drove along through the junction at Pattaya Klang and, about a half mile up on the left, turned onto Soi Khao Noi in the area known as Nongprue Banglamung. They went up the hill and past many shops and bars catering to a mix of locals and expat retirees. Then, they made it to the Garden Home development, where the bungalow was situated. Although they now had plenty of money, the team liked the simple life. They didn’t want to stay at any of the many five-star hotels in the thick of the tourist areas. This place suited them down to the ground, and it was an ideal hideaway, allowing them to blend in with their kind of people.

The main reason for their holiday in Thailand was to aid in the recuperation of their friend and colleague Lin Fu, who had sustained nasty injuries at the behest of Grant Vigor, the now dead banker. Lin Fu was a sweet and resilient person, as most of these women were. Coming from hard farming families in the wilds of China, they had to be. However, Barry, Anna, and Stella cared very much for Lin and felt a strong obligation to ensure that she had them, her surrogate family, with her until she was able to decide what she would do with her life. In return, Lin liked to take care of them. Being slightly older and of a more traditional disposition, she saw Annie and the team as her saviours. She had helped their business grow by using her considerable organisational skills and was also responsible for those small things that made a big difference, such as getting a gift for a buyer. Her natural empathy with people would help everyone. Like many of her ilk, though, she was lacking in her own spiritual comfort. Although she was relaxed about her sexual needs, sometimes, but not always, joining in with Annie and Stella when they wanted to play, she was at a time in her life when she wanted her own partner. Annie and Stella could see this.

These three associates did not court or express jealousy. Their friendship was so deep that each of them could do what he or she wished and with whomsoever they wanted. It suited all three of them to be that way. Their friendship kept each of them from realising their more extreme desires. In effect, their triumvirate, with occasional extras, worked.

The Garden Home bungalow was situated opposite the development’s swimming pool, a well-kept standard rectangle some thirty-five metres long by ten metres wide, with a wide-dappled concrete sunbed area surrounding it, plus a large, tiled restaurant and bar under cover along one length. This restaurant was run by a French expat and his Thai wife. It had a growing local reputation for good food and hospitality. This was an ideal place for the team to relax. At the bungalow, there were two good-size bedrooms with modern appliances in the kitchen, two bathrooms, and lounge. Outside was a tiled area beneath a canopy, out of the relentless sun, where they could sit or barbecue and even receive guests. Even the lounge was big enough for a large sofa bed, if they wished to put anyone up. Once Stella was shown the main bedroom, which Annie and Barry had claimed, she put her bag down and decided that she would shower. Annie and Lin Fu grinned at Barry and told him that they would see him over at the swimming pool restaurant for lunch once Stella was ready. They knew that Stella and Barry would want to get reacquainted. It had been a couple of months; Stella would wish to resume her claim to her connubial rights.

Barry was checking his various bank accounts online when Stella came out of the bedroom wrapped only in a pure white bath towel. Her hair was wrapped in a smaller white towel, and the contrast with her ebony skin was amazing as she strode purposefully across the room to where he sat. Barry had already begun to shut down the computer as Stella put her arm around him to kiss him longingly. The kiss lasted a good while. Stella took his spare hand and placed it under the bath towel to cup her breast. As she did so, the towel fell away, leaving her naked except for the hair cover. Barry lovingly kissed her around the ears and on the neck. Without a care in the world, they made love there and then on the sofa. Both had missed these moments very much. Stella let out small moans. Her black pupils rolled upwards, showing only the whites of her eyes as she climaxed.

They both changed into swimwear and filled a small bag with their money, phones, and creams. They strolled hand in hand across to the pool restaurant, where they joined Annie and Lin Fu, who ribbed them both, enjoying the attempt to embarrass them. Of course, it was all part of their unique lifestyle and the closeness of their friendship. They were oblivious to anybody else or to criticism. Barry’s personality was such that he actually loved all three women and could not understand why a small thing such as sex should matter. The girls, given that their former jobs had changed their outlooks on sex and relationships, were of the same opinion. Somehow, they had all formed a bond of complete trust. In one of her more profound moments, Lin Fu had laughed and pointed at Barry, saying, Bad man, good heart! He had revelled in that description of himself ever since.

Barry and Stella were very hungry after their exertions. He ordered the steak tartare, and Stella, unable to get her head around the idea of raw beef and raw egg yolks, went for the large burger and fries. Annie and Lin Fu took just a Thai tom yum goong, which is a spicy seafood soup, and Barry ordered a bottle of house red wine. The wine came in a thick-gauge, clear polythene bag, especially double-lined, the outer layer full of ice to cool the wine enough for them to handle in the extreme heat and humidity of Thailand.

After lunch, Stella and Barry took one of the recliners under the large parasols by the pool and just lay there, taking the occasional dip in the pool. They caught up on their business and general gossip whilst the two Chinese women decided to go shopping for ingredients for the meals they would eat during the coming days. Barry and Stella often left the food choices up to Annie, as all of them admired her skills in the kitchen. Annie and Lin Fu buzzed off to the shops on their rented Honda Wave 125, a fully automatic motorbike, enjoying the feeling and freedom of their idyllic vacation together. Lin Fu, still immaculately turned out, sat side-saddle on the pillion.

Barry filled Stella in on his and Annie’s plans to help Lin Fu finally find her true love and make her welfare complete – for, although her body was almost healed, her heart needed more. This peripatetic life was not what she wished for the future. Lin Fu was a classic Chinese beauty. She had long black hair, gracefully and exquisitely coiffured. Her age made her even more stunning. Although she was only just over forty years old, one could tell that she was going to be one of those women who became even more desirable in her fifties and sixties. Any man would have been proud to escort her. She needed someone to whom to devote herself, a younger man, maybe, who needed her guidance through a busy life. Barry and Annie knew for whom she pined for in her quiet moments and had arranged a surprise for her that would hopefully make her dream a reality.

Chapter 3: Bangkok

After being fast-tracked through the business-class immigration area, Morgan Transett saw his name on a white card held up by a Thai woman who was very sharp-suited in a royal-blue two-piece with matching shoes. Morgan introduced himself to the young woman. She gave a wei, her two palms placed together and held high as her head nodded down in deference to him, welcoming him to the Land of Smiles in the way that only Thai women can. Please, follow me, sir. She indicated the direction and lightly turned on her perfect four-inch heels towards the end of the airport, passing the large number of tourists queuing at the baggage carousels. Morgan couldn’t help but follow this charming woman’s tiny rear. Her hips swayed gently, the short slit in her tight skirt drew his eyes to her stocking-clad legs, and her long hair was tied in a ponytail and moving in the opposite direction of her bottom. She led him to a seat in the air-conditioned business lounge and took his luggage tag, telling him to wait whilst she collected his bag. Within a few minutes, the woman returned with his large grey Antler wheeled bag, which matched the carry-on laptop bag that was his sole piece of hand luggage. She made a call on her mobile and sat with him until a large black Toyota Camry with dark-tinted windows pulled into the turning circle and was visible through the large glass doors. She took his forearm and led him to the limo.

The driver, a small Thai in a grey uniform, already had the trunk lid open and took Morgan’s luggage from him. The woman opened the rear door and motioned for him to get in and relax, still smiling and bowing her head and curtseying again. Morgan only had time to smile back and say a thank-you as she gently backed away whilst closing the door. In seconds, the driver turned in his seat to smile at Morgan and say, Sawadee krap, the traditional male Thai greeting, before steering the limousine out of the concourse area and onto the highway towards the metropolis.

In Bangkok, close to the J. W. Marriott, Annie, Lin Fu, Stella, and Barry had checked into the Landmark Hotel and were getting themselves ready to go out on the town and see some of the sights in the nearby Soi Nana and the infamous Nana Plaza. They decided to wear the now familiar Dream Team outfits of black silk: Barry in a suit and shirt, Stella in a similar trouser suit, and Annie and Lin Fu in almost identical black silk cheongsams with just a small gold dragon on the right shoulder and a gold hoop around each of the armholes. On their way out, they stopped at the ground-floor tailor’s and collected another silk shirt that Barry had ordered earlier. Then, the four of them walked along the narrow pavement between the market stallholders who were selling knock-off designer clothing of all types, including football shirts advertising teams from England and Spain, polo shirts and T-shirts, and boxer shorts. You name it – it seemed to be for sale on the street. They trod their way carefully over the wonky paving slabs and squeezed around the corner into Soi Nana itself, where they passed a couple of bars set high on their left side. They turned into the Nana Entertainment Plaza and walked past most of the bars on the ground level, the bar girls hollering their usual greetings of Hello, welcome and Hi, sexy man to Barry, who laughed at all the attention. His companions poked him playfully and headed straight for the bottom-corner go-go bar named Venus. The door was held open for the four of them. As they were being shown to a bank of seats, they were suddenly jumped on by the grinning mamasan and owner, the beautiful ladyboy Mia Tan, who was mincing and swaying on her heels as she hugged Barry and Annie first, and then Stella, before shaking hands with the more shy and bewildered Lin Fu, who was hovering at the rear. They took their seats and were served drinks by other ladyboys who all were dressed in gold and yellow bikinis with numbered badges on the tops. In front of them was a stage with poles for the dancers, who were all beautiful and moving to the pulsating beat of the techno music and a flashing light show. Every one of them was a ladyboy, or a khatoey, as transgender men are known in Thailand. Barry sat between Annie and Stella and enjoyed the show. Mia Tan, dressed in a long, red, low-cut, Venetian-style dress, her long hair tied up on top, exposing her creamy white neck and gold hoop earrings, stood in front and to the side, chatting to Annie and Lin Fu, who were next to her. Lin Fu had never met Mia and had never even been told about how her German abuser had met his comeuppance – or the part Mia played in that revenge. Annie had thought that for her own safety, Lin should not know, at least not until they were safely out of Dubai and far from the clutches of any official enquirers. Mia Tan had bought this go-go club with the money Barry had paid her for helping them get their revenge on the German sadist who had abused, raped, and beaten Lin Fu in a quest, on behalf of Grant Vigor at Mackeson and Mather’s Bank, to find the rest of the team.

Some of the dancers came over, sat at the end of the chairs next to Stella and Lin, and chatted to them pleasantly, even trying it on with Stella, who was fascinated by them and went along as they stroked her thighs or brushed her breast. She even returned the affections. After a while, Barry whispered to Annie and made an excuse to leave, saying that he was trying to get them all a large suite at the Marriott across the road and that she should wait for his call.

The limousine carrying Morgan Transett in the back seat pulled onto the runway ramp at the J. W. Marriott. The driver released the trunk lid just