People Trafficker Read Free Page B

a little tired perhaps,” she replied.
    “When do you plan to go home?”
    Karen smiled. “Hopefully very soon, but I’ll miss the sun, I believe it’s raining back home.”
    “Have you been in contact with your parents?”
    She shook her head. “No, not yet but I’ve been told they are on their way here.”
    “How did the authorities know where to find you?”
    “I telephoned home and gave dad my address. Even I didn’t believe the traffickers would have been stupid enough to let me get at a phone, let alone give me the address of where I was being taken.”
    “So what do you think of the SAS now love?” another asked.
    She looked directly at him, for a second the mask slipped and Sirec saw the real Karen. Her eyes gave her away, they suddenly seemed cold, her features with no hint of emotion as she looked at the reporter. “Excuse me, I’m not your love. My name’s Karen, thank you. But why should I think anything about the SAS?”
    “Well they got you out didn’t they?”
    She smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. “I’m sorry, you’re mistaken. I was smuggled into the country, but came out alone. I got myself out, not the SAS. Everything I’d learnt in survival was useful, but valueless without one other thing. That was a determination to be free and the belief in myself that I had what it took to achieve it.”
    “Well you certainly did achieve that, Karen, besides looking very fit. What’s the plan for the future, modelling perhaps?” another reporter asked.
    Silence fell over the reporters, every one very interested in her reply.
    Karen stood a short time before answering. “It’s very flattering for you to suggest I could become a model. Thank you for the compliment, not that I believe I could for one moment. It does, though, bring me to a proposition I’d like you all to consider. You see I’ve been close to death a number of times over the last weeks, once it was only seconds away when I had a gun at my head, which I’ll never forget. I’ve also seen and experienced a grey side of the world and that sickens me. Because of these experiences I’m prepared to tell the world the real story of my abduction, what happened during my captivity and preparation for sale. Then finally my escape.”
    Now every reporter was listening intently.
    “I’m doing this because I believe we should pursue the people who do this sort of thing, to not only adults, but children as well. The governments and particularly the politicians bury their heads in the sand about it. This has to stop and I intend, by offering my story, to highlight the plight of these children, from every part of the world, sold to become slaves to private buyers and brothels. So my story is for sale to the highest bidder, plus as many photos of me dressed as you want and need to promote the story. But this is not about me trying to make money for myself. I want nothing out of it. Every penny raised is to be used to fund a charity to help the forgotten ones, to bring them home and give them shelter besides bringing pressure and embarrassment to governments. So you may ask yourselves, am I worth it? Well one man thought I was worth forty thousand dollars, others believed I was worth dying for. For me there is no answer to that, except you will have to pay considerably more.” She grinned. “Money that is. So dig deep Mr. Reporters, my story will not be cheap. But you can expect a story full of sex, lies, violence and deceit. I would think the ingredients for a best seller, let alone an article in the paper, except don’t believe for one moment it’s over and whoever buys the story, hang on, it’ll be a wild journey, that I promise.”
    As she spoke, already the phones of reporters were ringing. Their editors watching the live interview were demanding they arranged meetings with Karen, with hundreds of thousands of pounds being mentioned. Every one of them believing, with such a photogenic, articulate and attractive eighteen year