Page 91 of Savage Warrior

“The one at the far end is Natalija,” I tell Ethan when I return. “So you don’t need to buy the rest after all.”

“You don’t really want to leave the others behind, do you?”

“No. I don’t want to leave any of them here, but we can’t save them all.”

“I know. That’s a fucking pity, but we might be able to find a way to disrupt their future business even if we can’t save this lot. Just those four kids, then. Ah, I assume this is Fedor.”

The guard returns, accompanied by two men. One of them is dressed in combat uniform, his chest puffed out like a pompous penguin. I swear he’s not seen a day’s military service in his life, despite the glittering display of medals pinned to his jacket. His companion, who walks with a distinct limp, is wearing a smart dress suit, the jacket open to reveal the handgun strapped to his chest. Ethan is not the only one to travel with his own personal bodyguard.

The one decked out as Action Man thrusts out his hand and introduces himself. “Mr Savage, your reputation precedes you. Welcome to Belarus.”

Ethan shakes and somehow manages not to wipe his palm afterwards on his trousers. “My thanks. And you are Fedor Morozov, I assume.”

“I am.” Morozov does not offer to introduce his companion, so Ethan also dispenses with any further pleasantries.

“You know my requirements?” Ethan barks.

“You wish to purchase four girls. This is unusual. And costly. May I ask why?”

“A new business venture. An establishment I am opening, to cater to extremely selective clientele with very specific preferences. They have to be young, mind. And clean.”

“All my merchandise is clean,” Fedor replies huffily. “And, naturally, the price must be right to convince me to withdraw your selection from the general sale.”

“One million dollars for all four,” Ethan replies without hesitation.

I manage not to wince at the eye-watering amount when I translate the offer for Fedor’s benefit.

His mouth flattens. He regards Ethan with his obsidian gaze. “I believe I could exceed that sum at auction. I will take my chance. You are, of course, welcome to bid.”

“One and a half million,” Ethan counters.

Morozov regards him, calculating. “Two and a half million,” he replies.

“In your personal bank account, naturally,” Ethan purrs.

Greed glitters in Morozov’s eyes, and that cruel mouth twists in a parody of a smile. The hand is thrust out once more. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Savage. Which girls do you want, or shall I select them for you?”

“My associate will point them out.” He gives a curt nod to Tony, who strolls back along the line indicating the four young women we intend to liberate today.

The guard accompanies him, unlocking each girl’s padlock and pulling them from the line. All four huddle together, quietly weeping. They don’t have a full set of clothes or a pair of shoes between them.

“You have transport, I assume? Or do you require me to deliver them?” Fedor is clearly eager to conclude the deal.

“I will take them with me now.” Ethan has his phone out. “If you let have the details, I’ll transfer the cash to you immediately, and we can be off.”

“You will appreciate that I will require to see receipt of the funds before you will be permitted to leave.” Fedor is also checking his banking app. “I mean no disrespect, but this is business, you understand.”

“Of course.” Ethan’s smile is as cold as Fedor’s.

We wait in silence while the electronic transfer completes.

At last, Fedor inclines his head. “My thanks, Mr Savage. Please do feel free to visit us again.”

In the meantime, Tony and Grigor have ushered the girls to the end of the gallery, back the way we entered. At a nod from Ethan, they start to herd them outside. Ethan and I take our leave of Fedor and his silent bodyguard and follow them.

“Two of us against three?” I mutter to Ethan before we reach the door. “What do you think?”

“I think those odds are good,” he whispers back. “If we can take Fedor down…”