Authors: Keith Hoare
People Trafficker (46 page)
“Here’s the letter to your parents back, Karen, do you know what this other envelope is?” he asked.
She nodded. It was her will.
“But before I give it back to you, what are your plans now, Karen?”
“In what way?”
“Well, where do you go from here?”
She smiled. “I’m going home of course. It’s been very hard for me, Peter, but now I know I can relax and not be on constant guard. Although for a time I will carry a knife. I know it’s illegal, I know I can get in trouble, but for my own piece of mind it will give me confidence.”
“Why don’t you stay in the army, in Special Services? There are still plenty of others out there, desperate for your help.”
She shook her head. “Oh no…this is it for me. I’ve been too close this time in losing first my liberty, then my life. I’m going home to work as a shop assistant, a secretary, in fact anything that does not include a gun.”
“I suppose you could, but you’re still in the army and you should do as you’re told,” he came back at her.
“Then I’ll resign, after all my contract runs out in a few days.”
“We’ve extended it, Karen. Indefinitely, besides you’re an officer and we’ll refuse to accept your resignation.”
Karen stared at him. “You can’t do that to me; mum and dad would go berserk if they knew I was even here now. They think I’m still in a training camp.”
“We can, you’re a British subject and this girl is your military service,” he replied with a wink. “But seriously, Karen, it is the life for you. It’s a world you now understand. A cruel and desperate world for those caught up in it. Already governments are waking up to just what’s happening. They, like the Lebanese, are prepared to help and more importantly work with us to clean up their own backyards. I want you to be part of it. To finish your training and finally get this maverick side of you, that believes she can take on the world alone, sorted out once and for all. Then you will become part of an international elite group, have the power to go in and sort these people, who still believe we live in the Middle Ages, and can sell others into slavery. They will learn to their cost, they can’t, because people like you will stop them.”
Karen said nothing for a short time. He was right, this was only the beginning. There were people like Debby who Saeed had sold into a brothel still out there. Children like Natasha, Sammy and Angela who had no one coming for them. They too wanted to go home, to pick up their lives.
She gave a weak smile. “You’re right, Peter, I’m not going to resign just yet. I’ll see how the training goes, and more importantly how I feel in myself. I’ve been minutes from death a few times now, and it doesn’t get any easier. But one thing that may convince me to stay, after this last trip, is that life would soon become very boring, and I do get to be among lots of hunky and very fit soldiers. What more could a girl ask for?”
He picked the will up and slipped it back into his pocket, but left her other envelope on the table. “I’ll hold onto this shall I, then? But you won’t regret a yes decision Karen, and there will be lots of children who will be glad you did decide to stay. Now I must leave you, I have a number of telephone calls to make. Call home yourself; let them know you’re safe. I’m told you’ve got some leave coming your way, after you finish your training, still as a Lieutenant of course. So why not take a holiday, sort out that skimpiest bikini you dreamed about wearing on that beach of yours, when you were freezing your butt off on the moor, and recharge your batteries?”
Karen knew he was right; she needed that holiday, particularly the beach. But how did he know about what she’d said to the lads on the moor, was there nothing secret in her life?
It was Christmas Day; Karen was helping her mother with the dinner. The house, as usual, was full of relatives. She had returned not to the original training camp, but was sent to Sandhurst, to begin her training as an officer. All the usual acceptance procedures had been put to one side for her, after all she had already proved herself as a potential leader, and as Sir Peter promised, she was to keep her rank. During her time at Sandhurst, she’d been flown to a new camp, located in Europe, to look around and meet the Colonel in charge. This was the camp Sir Peter had told her about. Already a multinational force was assembling. Specialists of all kinds were arriving daily, particularly in communication, surveillance and covert operations. Karen was to be attached to a special incursion group. A fast and efficient force, with one term of engagement, which was to take out any opposition, no matter who they were, and bring out people caught up in the trafficking trade. When Karen left for her Christmas break, already she was looking forward to returning in January, completing her training, then taking on the traffickers once again. But this time not alone.
They had just finished dinner and were all still sat around the table, drinking coffee, when there was a knock at the door. Karen’s grandmother, nearest the dining room door, went out to answer it, soon she was back.
“There are three military looking men at the door, Karen; they want to speak to you. I’ve asked them in, I hope you don’t mind?”
The room fell silent as she went through to the hall. They were stood inside. All were Commandos, one a junior officer and very smart.
“Lieutenant Harris?” the Officer asked.
Most of the relatives looked at each other. “Karen, a Lieutenant, since when? And why is she using our surname?” her grandfather commented.
His daughter, Karen’s mother, touched his arm. “It’s a long story Dad, I’ll tell you later,” she whispered.
“Yes I’m Lieutenant Harris, what can I do for you?” they heard her reply to the officer’s question.
“I have been ordered to deliver this communication. Can you sign for it, Lieutenant?”
She took the very official looking envelope from his hand and signed their document. They made to leave.
“Wait a minute, can I offer you all a drink? It is after all Christmas Day,” she said.
The officer stopped and turned. “That is up to you, Lieutenant, you are the ranking officer here,” he replied.
“Well if that’s the case, come and join us,” she said grinning. “And my name’s Karen, in my own home.”
Coffee was poured, with a tot of whisky in each. But everyone was urging her to open the envelope, which she did with trepidation believing they were new orders and her holiday was to be cut short. However, besides a letter, the envelope also contained a beautifully ornate invitation. Karen read the letter, then looked at the invitation, her mouth dropping slightly.
“Well love, what does it say?” her father asked.
She shrugged, trying to pass it over as if of no importance. “It’s nothing, Dad, just an invitation. I’ll sort it later,” she replied pushing the letter and invitation back into the envelope.
He looked at her sternly; he knew his daughter and the word ‘nothing’ meant it was something. “Karen, let me see it please?”
She hesitated, nervous of him reading it.
“Now, Karen,” he repeated holding his hand out.
Karen handed the envelope to her father.
He read the letter and gasped after looking at the accompanying invitation. “It’s an invitation to the Palace,” he began his voice breaking. “Karen has been recognised in the New Year Honours and awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross for the exceptional personal bravery she portrayed, in going into a hostile area alone.”
Everyone had fallen silent, even the soldiers were looking at her.
Her mother took the letter and invitation from her husband and read the citation carefully and then the invitation before looking up at her daughter. “When was this, Karen?” she asked quietly.
Karen just shrugged. “A few weeks ago, Mum, I just helped out that’s all, nothing special.”
She sighed, “I’m sorry, Karen, but that isn’t good enough. Somebody just helping out does not receive one of the highest awards in the land. The truth is both Sir Peter, and that General who came to the house lied. They put you in a position where your life was at risk, without us even knowing you were in such a situation. It’s not fair for you to have done this to us. Last time was hard enough, not knowing where you were, thinking you were dead. It would seem this time you have done the same thing again, but voluntarily, with no thought for us? But I’m telling you this, so you and the rest of the family understand. While you live under our roof, we want the truth about just what you’re up to. If this is something you feel you can’t do, then you must move out.”
Karen looked around at them all still watching her silently. “I couldn’t tell you, Mum, they wouldn’t let me, for my own safety no one was to know I was back in the Lebanon. We went in for the five girls who were abducted - by the same man who took me. Two of the girls and another younger girl of fourteen were three hundred miles away from where I was kept. They were in an area where the civil unrest was the worst. A large British military presence travelling to collect them might have caused a war.” Karen sighed. “The little girl was so brave, she’d been beaten and raped but was still keeping herself together, looking forward to being with her mum and dad again. She didn’t know the abductors had shot her daddy. I had to get her out, so I joined up with local gunmen and went on alone, what alternative was there? I don’t deserve an award, let alone some sort of medal. I was glad I could do for her, the same as others had done for me; the only difference is, I returned, they didn’t.”
Her father was staring at his daughter stunned. “Are you telling us, Karen, it wasn’t the SAS as the papers reported, but you who brought out the last three girls? That you travelled six hundred miles inside the Lebanon alone and at risk of being taken again yourself, even after the promise of that General - who came to this house - and told us categorically that you’d be looked after?”
“Yes,” she replied meekly. “But I was in the SAS, well Special Operations, so the papers weren’t really wrong. The girls I brought out were told never to speak of how they were actually rescued, except just to say the SAS came for them.”
There was a pregnant pause, no one knew what to say or do. Every person in the room now realised just why Karen had been awarded the medal.
“If I may speak?” the officer asked.
“Of course,” Karen’s father replied, in lots of ways relieved that the silence had been broken.
“We join the armed services in this country voluntarily. I, like all my colleagues hope that the things we do, the help we give, no matter where in the world, has an impact for good. Some of us will die, many will be injured, but we still do it. Karen has done what every soldier would do, tried to help those less fortunate. You shouldn’t shun her, pull her efforts down. I know I speak for every soldier in this country, no matter what the rank. For your daughter to be awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross, you should be the same as we are - proud of her. Proud so much courage was displayed that it has been recognised, and the honour is to be awarded by the head of all the services, our Queen.”
He then came to attention, the other soldiers at his side also. “I’d like to be the first to congratulate you, Lieutenant. To shake your hand and salute you on behalf of my regiment, the armed services and my country. I hope, if ever a time comes, and I’m called upon to display the courage you must have shown, I pray to God I can.”