Penitence 3

In the early afternoon, having done some extensive googling, Sato left the hotel. In a minute when the clerk had been away, he had glimpsed at the check-in book, telling him Babette’s room number he memorized, just in case he would need it. Then, he went to the next bank where he got 10.000 in cash from his account.

To his first stop, he went by taxi, bringing him to the suburbs where he had made contact with a student selling his used car. It was a slightly shabby Seat, ten years old, but after a test drive, he decided that the car would be sufficient for the few days he would need it. He paid the demanded 2.000 without much haggling. They even signed a prepared purchase contract, making Sato the legal owner of the car. A Policeman might find it strange that a Japanese living in Germany bought a used car in Portugal, but that was his worst problem according to the Seat.

Now, he had to make contact with the local underworld, and for doing so, he had only one point to start that sounded a bit promising. So, after a few more purchases, he drove back to the part of the harbour where the three boys had attacked him, following a rather vague lead he had found in the jacket he had taken from one of the thugs: a crumpled receipt from a bar called »Perdida«, a place the internet listed as a no-go-area for tourists.

The »Perdida« looked as if it had come directly from a cheap gangster movie, with sleazy guys hanging around a billiard table, old-fashioned fans dispersing the blueish smoke clouds, and some Portuguese rock music playing in the background. Sato almost expected the talking to cease and all eyes to turn towards him as he entered.

The only one taking notice of him was the barkeeper who seemed uncertain whether he should be amused or hostile as the Japanese tourist approached him. Sato placed a 20 Euro note on the desk.

»Uma cerveja, por favor! The rest is for turning out the music for one minute! Obrigado!«

The barkeeper now looked as if Sato was some strange alien. However, he handed him a bottled beer, took the note and then indeed switched off the radio. Sato shouted »Olá! Olá!«, until almost everyone was paying attention to him. He raised his phone and played the translated message on full volume:

»This morning, I had a disagreement with three men, and in the end, I accidentally took one man’s jacket and another one’s moped! I want to apologize! Please, if you know them, tell them I am waiting by the public parking lot! Tell them I am the Karate guy!«

He bowed towards the audience, grabbed his beer and left before anyone could react. The parking lot wasn’t far, and it had the advantage that no one could approach from behind. Sato sat on the motor covering of his car and drank the beer that tasted like water, but was at least cold, waiting. He guessed that most of the people in the bar had considered him a lunatic or thought this was some elaborate prank. However, one or two maybe knew what had happened, and they had informed the three amateur thugs.

It took some hour before a few mopeds arrived, some of them ridden by two guys. All in all, they were seven or eight, all looking angry, and some of them carrying chains or crowbars. Among them, Sato saw one with a plastered nose whilst another one had two plasters at the corners of his mouth. Also, he spotted the one whose balls he had kicked. He walked a bit bow-legged, but he pointed at Sato with a crowbar.

»I don’t know what game you are playing – but you’ll lose!«

He wanted to attack when his comrade stopped him, pointing at the gun that had suddenly materialized in Sato’s hand. Blue Balls stopped, but in a desperate attempt to show courage, he shouted:

»You can’t kill us all!«

Sato shrugged.

»I can kill you, and maybe one more! However, you maybe want to talk instead?«

For some seconds, there was nothing but silence. Sato could read from the young men’s faces that they considered a retreat cowardly; on the other hand, none of them wanted to be the cannon fodder, so the others could overpower Sato. He waited for a minute before he talked again:

»I actually only need to talk to the three Gentlemen I already know from our previous encounter! So, if you others would mind leaving us alone! I promise that I am not intending to kill anyone, unless I am provoked!«

There was some murmur in Portuguese: obviously, those who were more fluent in English translated Sato’s words to the others. A minute later, Broken Nose, Chelsea Grin and Blue Balls found themselves alone with the Japanese. On his order, they dropped their weapons and sat down side by side. Sato jumped from the car, reached inside and threw a large paper bag to Blue Balls who opened it. To his surprise, it contained a new, expensive-looking leather jacket.

»As I said, I want to apologize! We didn’t have the best start!«

Chelsea Grin got a smaller bag, containing a new prepaid cell phone, plus 100 Euro. The last thug got an envelope with 1.000 Euro.

»Sorry, I couldn’t transport your moped, but I hope this is enough for a new one!«

Had Sato suddenly grown horns and a spiked tail, they couldn’t have been more surprised. He smiled and bowed.

»Now, do you Gentlemen accept my apology?«

The three nodded, and Chelsea Grin fingered some cigarettes from his pocket. Once he had put it into his mouth, Sato aimed at his face with the gun. The guy gasped, and Sato pulled the trigger. A small blue flame came out of the muzzle, and Sato grinned.

»I thought you might need fire!«

He knew that this could have provoked another attempt to attack him. However, the three were too perplexed, and also maybe a bit curious.

»Who are you? And what do you want?«, Blue Balls croaked. Sato leaned against his car, so he could have an eye on them.

»You know what happened on the ocean liner that arrived last night?«

There was a short conversation in Portuguese, and Sato hoped they were collecting their knowledge and not planning a surprise attack on him. Finally, Blue Balls, who either was their leader or simply was the most fluent in English, answered that they had heard a kidnapping attempt had been thwarted, with the potential criminals being arrested, whilst one of the women was still missing. Chelsea Grin added something, and Blue Balls said:

»He says one of the men was found at a warehouse, and he’s now at the hospital!«

Sato focussed the man with the plasters on the corners of his mouth.

»You know which hospital?«

The guy nodded, and once he had given him the address, Sato handed him another 100 Euro. He then looked at all three of them.

»Who of you is dreaming of a real motorcycle? I mean, a BMW, maybe even a Harley?«

Reluctantly, all three rose their hands, and Sato grinned.

»Good! For I need more information about the men who beat up that criminal! As you may have guessed, I am looking for the woman that’s still missing! So, if you have any valid information for me, come to the lobby of the hotel ›Avis‹, tomorrow at 8am! If the information’s valid, I will pay 10.000 more!«

He waited for the three to cope with the offer before he added:

»Of course, you might decide to avoid ever meeting with me again! If so, there isn’t much I can do! However, if you are trying to fool me, or try to sell me to the Police, or the guys I am after – well, it would leave me with a lot of free time, and a lot of anger and lust for revenge!«

Sato bowed and entered his car, leaving the three still perplexed junior thugs behind. Perhaps, he had just wasted some of his money, but at least, he now had another lead. He typed the hospital’s address into Google Maps and followed the advice.

***

Physically, Johanna had greatly improved, for the men had freed her from the posts. She still was cuffed with her left wrist to her right ankle and vice versa, and tied like that, she currently kneeled between the two chairs Tiago and Joao sat upon, allowing her to also watch the display of the laptop, showing her an image of herself, stark naked, and a list of information like her age, height and bra size. However, Johanna was staring at the number in the lower right corner that seemed to change whenever Joao clicked the »actualize« button. Currently, it showed 167.500 Euro.

»There’s a veritable bidding war going on! Look, Sheikh Omar raised for 500 once again!«

Johanna was still gagged, and despite the vile tasting panties in her mouth, she gulped. She saw the icon of the bidder, showing a comic drawing of a fat Arab in traditional clothing. It resembled an auction on eBay – with the difference that she was the desired object that was sold!

Like on a normal online auction, there also was a chat function, and Johanna was almost expecting someone to ask for »What last price?«. However, the real questions, at least those written in English, were horrifying enough. Sheikh Omar asked whether she would swallow, and a Necromancer13 wanted to know if Johanna enjoyed pain. Her horror raised when Tiago answered the first question with »If she doesn’t willingly, you may persuade her«, and the other with »You might enjoy how she’s not enjoying it«.

Joao hissed a curse, and both Tiago and Johanna looked at the actualized sum, now saying 200 Grand. The bidder was new, a guy calling himself »Caudillo«.

»Seems General Franco has risen from the grave, hungry for female flesh!«, Tiago joked. Johanna knew little about the late Spanish dictator, and »Caudillo’s« icon just showed a Spanish flag. It seemed that his offer had discouraged the other bidders, for the sum remained fix for some time. Sheikh Omar raised it for another 500, only to be countered by Caudillo raising it to 210.000. Joao glimpsed at the countdown. Due to the illegal nature of such auctions, they were only online for a short time: in seven minutes, it would be over. His hand wandered to Johanna’s breast, kneading it nervously as he watched the seconds pass. She was too fascinated herself to even twitch or moan, and finally, the auction ended with no more bids. A few seconds later, the chat opened. On Tiago’s order, Joao pulled Johanna away a bit and now kneaded both of her breasts whilst he impatiently waited for the result of the typed conversation. After what seemed like hours, Tiago rose, a grin on his face.

»Congratulations, Johanna! You have become the new pet of a veritable leader! Now, you should rest a bit, for a long trip lies ahead of you!«

***

At most hospitals, foreign doctors a re a common sight, and so, the Policeman who had replaced Francisco barely noticed the man entering the room where Andreas Holm was lying. There had been a regular visit earlier, but he thought that perhaps, someone wanted a second opinion. After all, the Asian guy looked genuine, in his white lab coat and with the stethoscope around his neck.

Andreas was awake when the door opened, and except for a dull pain in his head and a slight dizziness, he was quite well. The only thing bothering him was that as soon as he had recovered, he would be sent to prison. During the visit, an Officer had made this clear to him, even telling him that his accomplices were behind bars, too.

He had been busy thinking of how he could blame the others for most of the crimes before they did the same when now, once again a doctor entered his room. Andreas rolled his eyes. The last doctor had barely spoken English, and now, an Asian was entering. Without a word, he took off his stethoscope. A second later, he had slung it around Andreas’ neck and tightened it.

»Where is Johanna?«

Andreas croaked and tried to fight the man who simply tightened the noose and now drew a small gun from his pocket, aiming at his eye. In a calm, yet frightening voice, he whispered:

»When the Police questions you, they will most likely shy away from hurting you! I won’t! Now, where is Johanna?«

The Asian pulled the trigger, and Andreas squealed. It took him a few seconds to realize he still was unhurt – but now, the flame was only inches from his eyes.

»Where is Johanna?«

»I – I don’t know! Tiago! And Joao! They tricked me, and-«

The flame withdrew a bit, and he could see the cold brown eyes of the man he now recognized as the bodyguard of Mr. Conradi, one of the richest passengers aboard their ship. The man whose wife Karim, one of his accomplices had intended to hold for ransom.

»Tiago and Joao? Is that all?«

The interrogation continued, and after a few minutes, Sato had to accept that the man indeed didn’t know much. All he could give him was a vague description of Joao and Tiago – and the address of the warehouse where he had delivered Johanna to, and where he had been knocked out. He released the man’s neck. When Andreas took a deep breath, he slammed the edge of his hand at his neck, knocking him unconscious.

With little more information, Sato left the room, forcing himself to walk straight and calm, as if he was belonging here. It worked well, and when he put the coat back to where he had taken it, he had to smile, despite his still unsolved problems: obviously, he had been so convincing that nobody had questioned the fact the nameplate on his chest had said »Dr. Maria Gonzalez«.

***

At the Police Department, the »Case of the Mauretania II« still was on top of the list, and so, it had not been difficult for Gabriela to get some of the latest news: the female suspect had been transferred to a women’s prison; another one of the two remaining ones, a born Mauritanian named Karim Boulaga, had offered a confession, in exchange for lenience in his sentence; and finally, the van in which Johanna Müller had been smuggled from the ship had been found at an abandoned road.

Being a 19 year old Constable, she had no office, but as a member of the investigation team, she could attend the conference room and read some of the files there, including the reports of the two other victims, Hannah Hoth and Suzette Bonhomme. Those two, a reporter and a musician, had decided to remain on the ship, since the company had promised them to pay for their cruise; in addition, Hannah hoped for a good story. Before the ship’s departure, however, they had been interviewed by one of the Inspectors, and now, Gabriela could read the files.

She had already imagined that the whole crime had been no picknick for Melissa, but now, further details added to the images in her head: according to the reports, the prisoners had been stripped naked by their captors, and though neither Hannah nor Suzette went into details, though they hadn’t been raped, the criminals had »taken advantage« of their nude helplessness.

Gabriela felt as if an ice cold fist was squeezing her heart. Melissa had been to all this, too, and yet, she not only had managed to escape, she was already eager to hunt down the remaining thugs! At the hospital, she had acted as a fake nurse to get information as if she had never done anything else, and she also acted cool.

»Wow, after such an ordeal, I could never behave like that!«

She left the conference room and withdrew to a free desk where she could log in to the files of all the criminals and suspects of which they had data available. Gabriela looked over her shoulder before she quickly checked a certain file. With a sigh of relief, she saw that it had last been updated six months ago; so, there had been no further trouble since then.

According to the search bar, there were 137 hits under »Joao«, but Gabriela opened the file of one specific of those. A young man, not ugly, but with a lewd grin, looked at her from the display. Joao had been three years younger when she had last seen him, but she remembered that grin when he had done what he considered »flirting« with her.

He had come in contact with the Police on three occasions: possession of drugs four years ago (charge on probation because he had still been a minor back then); armed assault one year later, earning him six months behind bars because nobody had got harmed, and he had only used a toy gun; finally, suspicion of theft (charge dropped due to lack of evidence). So far, Joao was like all the other petty criminals in their data – but she had seen him face to face, and her intuition told Gabriela two things: this Joao was capable of bigger crimes, and he definitely just saw a pair of boobs in a woman.

»And now, he maybe has a naked woman in his clutches!«

Worse, however, was the other name Andreas had mentioned. Of course, it could be one of the other 54 Tiagos, but Gabriela only opened one file. This Tiago, aged 29, had been accused no less than six times; each time, the charge had been dropped due to lack of evidence, and she remembered one of her colleagues comparing the man to an eel.

On the photo, he looked innocent, even friendly, and one could assume he wasn’t a fool. Indeed, he had passed his school exams with best marks, and he had even been to the University, but left after just one year. According to his profile, he made a living with sales – and their suspicions had always circled around something big. Tiago wasn’t one to steal a TV and sell it for 50 Bucks, he would steal an entire truck load of TVs and sell it to the regular market price.

»Humanity left aside, White Slavery could also be described as ›sales‹! Maybe, he has heard about the sums and got greedy! And he sure knows some people who know potential customers!«

Gabriela knew that she should go to her superior and report her suspicion. Then, everything would go its way, and maybe, they would even forget about how she had gotten the information if Tiago proved to be guilty. In addition, she would help to save Johanna.

She sighed and closed the file. If Tiago would end up in jail, she would light a candle in the Cathedral, and an even bigger one if they also arrested Joao. However, she feared that they had more accomplices. Maybe, even one she did not want to see in jail, no matter how much he deserved it.

In addition, there was Melissa. If she informed her colleagues right now, the German would be completely left out of the investigation, though Gabriela thought that she also deserved a share of the merits. Without her, they would either never heard of the crime, or at least, they would be searching for four women.

»…coffee?«

Gabriela gasped when she heard the voice right beside her. It was Francisco, and he defensively raise his hand.

»Calm down, Gaby, I just asked whether you would join me to that little café – or to a bar, if you prefer some harder stuff!«

She could see the glimpse of hope in his eyes, and she couldn’t look at Francisco’s eyes when she shook her head.

»Sorry, but no – not today! I’ve got – issues! Cramps, you know!«

Francisco grunted something and left, and Gabriela felt guilty for her white lie. She looked at the clock on the wall, telling her it was 7pm. Not only Francisco’s shift had ended, but also her own.

She slipped into the bathroom and locked herself in until she was sure that Francisco and others who might ask her to come with them had left. Now, she had to hurry if she didn’t want to be late for her date with Melissa, and she hoped that the German wasn’t too hungry.

***

Sato had driven to the warehouse, only to find the door locked with a solid looking chain. In addition, a guy that looked as if he belonged to some private security was hanging around beside it. He was sure that he could overpower the man, but if he wasn’t a complete beginner, he would be able to alert others, and he had exceeded his luck enough for one day. So, he decided to return to his hotel and to wait for the night.

Before entering the lobby, he put his cloth hat back on and put the camera around his neck, so he would look like a Japanese tourist returning from his sightseeing trip. His head lowered, he passed the lobby and since he felt a little lazy, he decided to take the elevator.

Inside, the door was about to close when he heard the sound of high heels on marble approach, accompanied by »Wait, please!«. At the last moment, a woman in a short blue dress slipped inside and nearly bumped into him.

»Sorry, I just-«

The words froze on Babette’s lips, and she stared at Sato. Her eyes widened, and whilst the door closed, she breathed in to scream.

»Aauuhhmmph!«

Sato pressed his left on her mouth and wedged the girl between his body and the elevator’s wall. In his pocket, he hastily searched for the fake gun. Babette squirmed and tried to free her mouth, biting his hand and trying to pull on his hair.

»No sound, or you will die here and now!«

Babette felt how something hard was pressed into her side, and she forced herself to calm down, staring at Sato with widened eyes.

»No sound!«, he repeated. He took the hand from her mouth and pressed the »2«. When the elevator started, he hissed:

»At the corridor, you behave like normal, okay?«

Babette wanted to tell him that she had not told anything about Conradi’s irregular business, but the look in Sato’s eyes convinced her to just nod. When the elevator had reached the second floor, he stepped beside her, the gun still pressed at her side. Like that, they walked the few yards to her room, and he made her open the door. Babette staggered and landed on the carpeted floor. When she looked up, Sato looked down on her, having closed the door behind them.

»Sato, I – it wasn’t me! I-it was D-Davenport!«

Now, the Japanese seemed puzzled, and she quickly added:

»I mean, I was trying to find evidence for his tax frauds, but then, one of Davenports men fooled me into helping him! They have got the folder, not me, believe me!«

For a few seconds, Sato was thinking, and Babette hoped that he believed her words and would let her go. Then, however, he shook his head.

»Whatsoever, that’s not why I am here now! I have – another job to do!«

»So – I may go now?«, she asked, trying her innocent puppy look. Again, Sato shook his head.

»I have to tie you up!«

Babette now was completely puzzled.

»Tie me up? If this has got nothing to do with me, why don’t you just-«

»Quiet!«

The girl fell silent, and when he ordered her toile down on the bed, she obeyed. Sato rummaged through her still partially unpacked suitcase and found a pair of pantyhose he cut in two with his switchblade.

»Turn on your belly and cross your wrists!«

»Ouch, not so tight!«, she protested when he tied her wrists with one leg of the pantyhose. Before he used the other one to tie her ankles, he removed her sandals. Then, he looked around, searched her cupboard and drawers. In the car, he had a whole bag with ropes and tape, but now, he would have to improvise.

In the bathroom, he discovered a small pile of discarded clothes; Babette had showered before. From this, he selected a pair of light blue Satin panties, and he picked a washcloth from the sink.

»Now, open wide!«

»Please, noouuhmmmph!«

Babette’s protests were stifled by the panties, and the Japanese stuffed the washcloth on top, filling her mouth to capacity. He then tied one of Babette’s silk scarves between her lips and knotted it tightly at her nape before cutting the curtain string off. This, he slung through her bound wrists and ankles, forcing her into a hogtie and further securing her limbs. One of the dangling ends, he used to tie her knees together and then secure them to the lower bedframe. The other end, he slung around her neck before tying it off to the upper bedframe; now, if Babette struggled too much, she would risk strangling herself. The girl mewed, and he looked through her belongings. He had to make sure the girl would not be able to expel her gag once he had left.

He found another scarf he tied over her mouth and nose. He then hooded her with two of her panties, covering her eyes, and then pulled a second pair of pantyhose over her head, knotting the legs around her neck. The girl made faint noises, and he could see how her chest heaved from her panting. Sato checked her bonds and switched on the TV, to drown any potential sounds. Then, he opened the door and closed it, ostentatiously loud.

As he had hoped, the girl immediately began to struggle, and she screamed through her packed mouth. Silently, Sato slipped onto the corridor and listened: as long as no one would press his ear against the door, no one would hear her moaning.

He re-entered and watched her struggle a little longer, until exhaustion forced Babette to stop. It seemed that she had not managed to loosen a single knot, and so, he decided he could leave again, this time for real.

***

Johanna shifted on her mattress. Her captors had allowed her a short refreshing dip in the small plastic pool before they had returned her to her cell. Here, they had taken care of her comfort, though in a way that didn’t feel just convenient.

The positive aspects were the mattress and that they had left her with a lamp. However, her feet were now cuffed to the bars, in a way they were more than two feet apart, preventing her from closing her thighs. Her hands were folded behind her head, tied with a third pair of handcuffs whose chain was threaded through her neck collar. Johanna was still gagged, and now, a small padlock held the mask in place. Repeatedly, she had to push against the panties in her mouth with her tongue, to prevent them from sliding into her throat, or she had to swallow her saliva, filtered by the humiliating gag.

The worst thing, however, was the camera that had been positioned just outside the cell. It filmed her nude front, and they had told her that »Caudillo« could stream every writhing and moaning from her. So, to minimize the humiliation, Johanna forced herself to lie as still as possible, reducing her squirming and mewing to a minimum.

Caudillo! Johanna racked her brain to collect what she knew about Franco: he had been Spain’s dictator for decades, a loose ally of Hitler – and after he had died in 1975, Spain had turned into a democracy. However, there was no evidence of Franco ever having been involved in White Slavery, or him having a secret harem in his lair.

»Maybe, my curiosity will distract me from my fear and embarrassment!«, Johanna thought and tried to move her gag with her tongue the little she could.

***

At her hotel room, Melissa had paid for the few hours of sleep she had found with another nightmare of her captivity. This time, she had, like in reality, been able to free herself. However, she had then ran away, leaving the others behind.

Melissa knew that this wasn’t true: she had at least managed to get Hannah and Suzette getting rescued, and it wasn’t her fault that Johanna had already been taken away before she had been able to free herself. However, she knew that these nightmares would only stop (hopefully) if she managed to free Johanna as well.

»At least, I did something, in interrogating Andreas! And maybe, Gaby finds something about these two names, though it’s little more than a straw!«

She took a shower, and then, she remembered that the Portuguese usually dressed up if they went to a restaurant. Her wardrobe didn’t offer too much choice in fancy clothing, and she decided for a white sleeveless silk blouse and a black, ankle-length pleated skirt. She also put on makeup and chose earrings and a matching necklace.

»Now, at least, Gaby won’t think that I am a tramp!«

Gabriela was on time, and to Melissa’s surprise, she looked as if she had just changed her uniform for a black T-Shirt and matching jeans. When she saw Melissa in her rather elegant outfit, she looked apologetically at her:

»Are you very hungry? For I thought we could have a look at the warehouse where Andreas Holm was found before! O-Only if you like, of course!«

Melissa looked at Gabriela’s black outfit and smiled.

»A rather unofficial investigation, hm? Give me two minutes!«

Not bothering Gabriela’s presence, she started to unbutton her blouse, and the Portuguese stopped her.

»I am not planning to climb through broken windows or things like that! But you know Johanna Müller, and perhaps, you find something that belongs to her and got overlooked!«

Somehow, the idea of Melissa stripping in front of her made her a little nervous, and so, Gabriela was relieved when Melissa grabbed her handbag and whilst she closed one of the blouse buttons, she stated:

»Well, if we go for dinner afterwards, I will at least be the one who is dressed better for a change!«

She let her eyes wander over Gabriela’s outfit.

»Maybe, you should put some black paint on your cheeks! Then, you would fully look like the mascot of a swatting team!«

»Filha de puta!«, Gabriela mumbled, unable to hide her smile. Melissa playfully waved her index finger in front of the other’s face.

»He, I know what that means, young Lady!«

With 22, she was just three years older than Gabriela, but she tried to look strict, until both girls had to giggle. They went to Gabriela’s car, and on the backseat, Melissa could see a torch and what looked like a bolt cutter.

»Just a short look, hm?«

Without an answer, Gabriela started the motor, and they drove off to the outskirts of Porto, where the industrial area was located. At a warehouse that looked abandoned, the Portuguese slowed down a bit and pointed at it.

»That’s it!«

Melissa didn’t comment the fact that Gabriela drove around the block, so they could approach the warehouse from behind. She reached for the torch and told Melissa to hide it in her handbag.

»Maybe, the door is open – then, it will be just unauthorized entry, and not burglary! It would be quite ironic if someone called the cops!«

Carefully, the two girls approached the door.

***