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“Here we go.” I look up at Travis who points at the screen from where he stands.
“Who is it?” I ask leaning closer.
“A woman,” Jack tells me.
I let out a small sigh of relief before my body goes stiff.
The woman sits on a chair, a camera thrust in her face, the bright light shining, forcing her to keep her eyes half closed.
I clench my fists, outraged we can’t go get her right now.
Fear rests on her face as she looks at the people stood just out of shot. Her eyes flicker between whoever’s there. Then one figure steps forward, his face covered. He stalks to the woman, his hands covered by black gloves. He wears a black top and black trousers. Hidden. He treats her with no respect, tilting her chin as though she’s a piece of meat. Fucker’s showing her off.
Jack checks his phone, still seeing Legs sat in his room, then he angles the laptop towards him, tapping the keys with force. He hits enter, angling the screen back for us all to see. “I got the passkey for the chatroom. Now we can see what the bidders are saying.”
I recoil, as does Travis. “Anything been said?” Travis hisses from his place by the door, leaning against the wall.
Jack’s temple twitches, his frustration evident. “One bidder’s in the chat.” He huffs in disbelief. “They just bid three thousand dollars.”
I look at Travis, dreading my next question. “For?”
Looking at the screen, the man forces the woman to her feet. He removes her shirt, ripping it down the front, revealing her bra. She closes her eyes, unable to look at her body as she’sshowcased.
Watching her chest rise and fall as she takes laboured breaths; I start visualising the different ways this prick will pay. A bullet to the back of the head? Too fast. Slicing his throat? That could work. Or maybe what would serve him better, would be to cut every organ out ofhisbody and lay them out before him? Take our time. Make him watch.
Jack snaps me out of my depraved trance. “Make sure you kill the feed when you get in there. First fuckin’ job.”
I nod, not forgetting.
There’s a flash on the screen. “Two more bidders,” he informs, “make that three, now four,”
“What the fuck?” Travis steps forward, his big hands resting on the table as he watches.
“Bid’s at ten grand.”
“What fucking for?” Travis demands to know.
“One of the bids is in French, I can’t fuckin’ read it.”
The woman’s turned, her round behind slapped, then faced back towards the screen. The man cups her breasts but it isn’t sexual. He’s showing, for the sake of the camera, how big they are.
“Jesus Christ.” Another bid pops up confirming my suspicion. I shut my eyes, dropping my head, hearing each man in turn read the screen. They curse to no one in particular, then the room turns deadly silent. The inhumanity of it sucks any faith I had left clean out of my system.
“Her reproductive organ?” Captain asks unsure he’s read that right. Even with his eyes, he has.
“Her womb.” My thumbs rest against my forehead as I lock my hands, my face tightening.
“Can you even survive that?” The Joker asks.
No one answers because of course, we don’t fucking know. The sad reality of this whole operation is that I don’t think the buyer nor the seller give any fucks as to whether the womansurvives or not.
“Will she go to a hospital at least?”
Jack looks at me hesitantly, knowing I’m asking him. I hear him sigh. “Depends on the highest bidder, I guess.” He lifts his shoulders, holding out a hand to the laptop. “Surgery of this proportion? She has to.”
“Then what?” I ask.
He scratches at his head. “Then… then with the money she receives, she lives her life.”
