She would look at herself in the mirror before bed and laugh humourlessly. Who did think she was, Rocky? She was a not very tall young woman, slight and delicate. All the training in the world wouldn’t enable her to inflict so much as a single bruise on the giant. But nonetheless, she trained and practised and focused.
If any of those bastards tried to make her the main attraction rather than the attending doctor, she’d let them know what a big mistake they’d made.
Then, one Sunday night as she sat vacantly watching some telly programme that passed through her eyeballs and out the back of her head without touching the sides, there was a knock at her yet-again rebuilt door.
Kate took a moment to slow her heartbeat and take a few deep breaths. She told herself she was in control as she rose and grabbed the bag she had left by the door especially for this occasion. One more deep breath and then she opened the door.
Her brother stood there with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates.
“Hey, Kit,” he said, bashful at disturbing her.
“Oh James, not tonight, eh. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
He shuffled his feet. “Sorry, Sis. I’ve got no choice.”
Suddenly Kate realised that, despite appearances, this was not a social call. “Right. I’ll get my coat.” She turned away but he put his hand on her arm.
“We don’t have to be there for an hour or so. That’s why…” He held up the bottle of wine.
Kate sighed, stepped back and ushered him inside. “You know where the glasses are,” she told him as she closed the door and put the bag back in its place.
He made small talk at first. “How’s the hospital… you met a new bloke yet… going to get another flat mate?” That kind of thing. Kate indulged him until he finally ran out of things to say. At this point he’d normally reach into his seemingly endless collection of anecdotes and start telling dodgy stories about this or that night on the town and the disreputable character he’d hooked up with. It was only when the silence fell that Kate realised she’d not seen James hold court like this for months.
“I’m not much of a sister, am I?” she said.
“What?”
“I should have noticed something was wrong. I should have asked about it.”
“Don’t be daft. You’ve been up to your ears with training.”
“Still.” The silence that fell then seemed like it would swallow them whole, and they stared into their wine glasses.
“James, how does this end for us?”
He looked up and his face said it all.
“Why haven’t you gone to the police?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Too scared. Why haven’t you?”
“Don’t tell him,” Cooper had told her two weeks earlier. “No matter what. I know he’s your brother and all, but from what I can gather he doesn’t seem the kind who could keep a secret.”
Kate gave James a look that said ‘why do you think?’ and he nodded. “Right,” he said.
“I have an idea, though,” she said. “Something we can do to help ourselves.”
“Hit me.”
“I’ve considered it.”
She got up, grabbed a notepad and pen from the kitchen counter, and sat down again. “I want you to tell me everything, and I mean absolutely everything that you know about their operation. Dates, times, locations, personnel. Everything.”
He looked wary. “For why?”
“Insurance.”
“Oh, Sis, that’s not…”
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then spill.”
So he did, until eventually he checked his watch and told her it was time to go.
IT WAS A cold, clear night, cloudless and silent.
The yard was lit by sodium lights mounted high on the posts that marked out the limits of the chain link fence. Huge containers were piled high in blocks, forming a kind of maze. The fleet of articulated lorries that ferried them across Europe and beyond were lined up near the entrance, seeming naked and unwieldy without their cargo. The pungent stink of rotting vegetables and the cry of hungry seagulls betrayed the presence of a tip nearby.
Two portacabins, one on top of the other, sat at the heart of the maze. Their lights were on and Kate could see movement inside as she and James walked towards them.
James didn’t knock, he pushed the door open and they stepped into a fug of warm, damp, gas-heater air that smelled of stale coffee and cigarettes.
The giant was sitting on a tatty old armchair which seemed comically small for him. His knees were up around his ears. A group of four crowded around him, sipping coffee from plastic cups and smoking. They were talking and joking in what Kate assumed was Serbian.
Kate was relieved that Spider wasn’t present, even though she’d known he wouldn’t be. Cooper had told her he normally ran things from Manchester.
The giant unfolded himself and rose as the siblings entered. The men fell silent, watching them with eyes that betrayed only the barest smidgin of interest. Each of them glanced briefly at James and then shifted his attention to Kate, sizing her up and finding her either adequate or wanting, depending upon their taste. One of them smiled at her, revealing crooked yellow teeth. She ignored him.
“You have the medicine?” asked the giant.
Kate held up her bag. He seemed content. He handed James a clipboard and a large manila envelope. Her brother took it without question.
“Come on,” he said to Kate, and led her back outside to a set of stairs that led up to the portacabin above. A young man stood outside the door, on guard. He unlocked the door as they ascended and ushered them inside. Kate heard the door lock again once they were in.
The small room held eight women and girls. All were sitting on the floor, crowded around a gas heater, warming their hands. They wore simple, functional clothes and had obviously not washed in days. There was a pungent smell of BO.
“Hello ladies,” said James, smiling. Kate was disturbed at how easily he slipped into this role. She wondered how many times he had done this before. “If I can please have your passports and travel documents.”
One of the women, the oldest of the bunch, maybe twenty or so, Kate thought, translated James’ request to the others, and they each reached into their pockets and produced their passports. Kate thought the meekness with which they did this spoke volumes. These girls were scared. They hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet, but they knew, deep down, that something had gone wrong, that they had been fooled, that something awful was about to happen to them.
James collected the passports and visas cheerfully, placing them in the manila envelope. He turned to Kate as he did so. “Best get on with it, Kit,” he said.
Kate crouched down and opened her bag. Inside were the syringe needles and ampoules that she had stolen from the hospital. Vitamin shots, wide spectrum antibiotics and, as ordered, mild sedatives. She told the girls to roll up their sleeves. Again the oldest one translated.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Nothing to worry about,” Kate lied, feeling a tiny part of her die as she did so. “Just vitamins and stuff. Something to give you a boost. You’ve had a long trip in that lorry.”
The woman was suspicious but there had been that faint air of resignation to her question which betrayed her powerlessness. Kate gave each of the trafficked women a shot.
While she did this James got each woman to stand up as he examined them, scanned a list of outstanding requirements on the clipboard, and decided which of the various distribution points they would be transferred to. The skinny one with the blonde hair was pretty enough for the high rollers, so she’d go to London. The three chubby ones were disposable but functional, they could go to Manchester. There was a special request for a young girl for extraordinary duties. James picked out the redhead, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, for this role.