Dark Desires: Deliverance
Read Dark Desires: Deliverance Online
Authors: Kourtney King
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #African American, #United States, #Romance, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial
DARK DESIRES:
DELIVERANCE
KOURTNEY
KING
Dark Desires: Deliverance © 2016
Kourtney King.
This
ebook
is licenced
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work.
All rights reserved.
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced
in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any
means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior
written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of
America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the
address below.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit the author’s website at
www.kourtneyking.wordpress.com
DEDICATION
This
book is dedicated to any and every woman who has ever experienced violence at
the hand of another. It is not your
fault,
nothing you
could have done could have changed the mind of your perpetrator. The fault lies
entirely with them. Know this, understand this, and allow yourself to heal.
As
an indie author, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the writing
society in general. There are so many brilliant authors out there, published
and unpublished, who take the time out of their writing schedules to share what
works, what doesn't, what to do, what not to do and generally pointing you in
the right direction when you have no clue that you are treading in
No-man's-land.
I thought it best to
mention that the characters in this book and in this series are fictitious.
However, the current war in Syria is very real. I have tried as much as
possible to include as many facts as I can but in the event that you are
confused then feel free to do your own research – new information comes to
light almost daily! In the end, I hope that you find this tale to be an
appealing read among the current romances on the market right now.
Here are the key
countries and where they stand in relation to the current Syrian regime.
U.S.A
– against the president.
They have accused the current
president of being responsible for widespread atrocities (read terrorist
attacks). They support Syria's main opposition alliance, the National
Coalition, and provide limited military assistance to "moderate"
rebels but have avoided attacks that may intervene between the current
government and the rebels.
Russia
– in support of the president.
Ties between Russia
and Syria date back over 40 years. During the Cold War, Syria aligned with the
Eastern Bloc where a lucrative arms pipeline was established and Russia became
Syria's biggest supplier. Russia has a naval base in
Tartus
,
Syria. They also share cultural connections beyond strategic and commercial
interests. Many Syrians studied in the Soviet Union where many married and
raised mixed families. They also view the Arab Spring as an American
conspiracy.
In short Russia and
Syria are good friends. They have been for a long time and they don't like the
US (it is known).
Saudi
Arabia
– against the current president.
They are a major provider of military and financial assistance to several rebel
groups including those with Islamist ideologies. It could be argued that they
also fund Islamic extremists but they are working with the US-led coalition air
campaign against IS.
Iran
–
in
support of the president. It is believed
they spend billions of dollars a year to keep the current government in power
by providing military advisors, subsidised weapons, lines of credit and oil
transfers.
Turkey
– against the current president.
They are currently
hosting 2 million refugees but their policy of allowing rebel fighters, arms
shipment and refugees to pass through their territories has been exploited by
those wanting to join IS.
Saudi Arabia is not so
much anti-the president, but pro-rebel groups that also may or may not happen
to promote terrorist attacks which are what the U.S is against. (Note the
conflict of interest when you realise that they are both against the president
but Saudi supports the rebels who are jihadists and anti-The West). The
organization (
Shaebi
) I reference would be
what I imagine a clear cut strategy would entail from Saudi. They would help
remove the current regime by focusing on fighting the military of the current
government rather than funding the rebels.
I chose to stay away
from covering this story in a U.S light because I don't quite understand their
foreign policy. Hilary Clinton has openly spoken about how the CIA trained the
rebel group Al Qaeda and there are conspiracy theories that the U.S may have
trained IS rebel groups as well - both of which the U.S have classified as
terrorist organizations. I've also watched numerous debates about how the U.S
has been destabilising the Middle East since the late 1960s by supporting
Israel which resulted in anti-US sentiments in the region. It was just a very
complicated and difficult concept to incorporate so I stayed away from it
entirely. I am by no means anti-
U.S,
I just believe
that their approach with regard to foreign policy has made things worse than
they initially were.
Russia holds a
clearer outlook in this war. Their president has stood firm in his position and
pulling out now would mean "retreating under American pressure which is
the one thing he cannot do".
We will never really
know the truth behind this war as with countless others that have happened in
the past. The truth lies with those that sit at the tables of government and
military.
Arms dealing is a
highly exclusive, billion dollar industry that focuses on profit rather than
identifying with a cause. This is a different spin on the concept of ‘Russian
Billionaires'. If the political jargon is not for you then ignore it, it plays
out in the background of the character's lives.
PS: There is a
glossary at the end that you can use to translate any of the foreign words and
terms
Happy Reading!
After hanging up the
phone, Mehmet began to doubt the depth of his loyalty considering the extent of
his actions today. He was fucking with The
Impaler
and the last time that had happened…
well,
let's just
say that the image of a skewered man would be the whispered talk of the town
for years to come. Kidnapping was not included in his job description when he
was given this assignment. He had no choice, when duty called, he was obligated
to answer. The man who wanted her was a cold and twisted individual. It was
rumoured that he felt nothing, a feat he regularly showcased in his torture
sessions and killing techniques. Even the women sent to
sate
his carnal needs rarely came back and if they did, they were worse for wear. He
didn't even want to image what would happen to Val if his boss got his hands on
her. He inwardly shivered, then blinked his eyes a couple of times to rid the
images his mind had conjured.
When the cab slowed
to a halt outside of the airport, he was snapped back into the present. He
opened the door and let himself out. Reaching back in, he offered his hand to
Valerie to help her out but she declined the gesture. He had been ordered to
deliver her to his boss' location unharmed. Furthermore, he could not allow
Vlad to track his movements where she was concerned. It was a tall order and as
usual, he was expected to deliver. That meant that he had to plan every minute
detail down to the last minute. The cabbie handed Mehmet his luggage from the
trunk of the car and received his commission for the role he had played. He
took Valerie's hand in his and pulled a small, red box from his blazer pocket.
"What are you
doing?" Val asked in confusion, as she tried to pull her hand away.
"You are now
Mrs.
Kassim
," Mehmet told her, as he slipped a
diamond ring onto her middle finger. He had always imagined this scenario
playing out differently. He would have planned something romantic for the woman
he loved and her ecstatic reaction to his proposal would fill him up with a
sense of pride and joy. Valerie was not impressed, to say the least, his only
consolation was that she was beautiful. He placed his hand on the nape of Val's
smooth neck, leaned forward slightly and was engulfed with the fragrance of
lilies, and dropped his voice so that only she could hear him. "Remember
what I told you before? Keep quiet and follow directions. I will now amend
those instructions because we will be in the public eye. Don't draw any
attention to yourself. Don't try and ask for help. Don't try to run. I know I
mentioned that our intention is not to kill you because we would then be back
at square one. However, if I lose you then I will pay with my own life, which
means that I would rather kill you than let you escape - call it my only source
of solace before meeting my maker. This is bigger than you, on a scale you
cannot even begin to imagine. So, my dear, I guess what I was trying to say in
this soliloquy is: don't fuck this up." He then stepped back and kissed
the back of her soft, manicured and newly adorned hand. "By the way, my
name is Mehmet." He disposed of the cell-phone he had confiscated from her
earlier in a nearby trash can and led her inside.
Valerie was in shock.
She was trying to process what Mehmet had just told her as well as what was
currently happening, but it appeared that the receptors in her brain weren't
functioning as effectively as she would have liked them to. She had been
kidnapped to coerce Vlad into doing something these people wanted.
So Vlad
is actually an arms dealer and this punk wants to use me as collateral.
Freaking-Fantastic!
She didn't know what
to think or how to feel about Vlad's line of work. When she thought he was a
serial killer or a hitman, it had scared her half to death but after she got to
know him, saw the man that he was, she was willing to let whatever it was that
he did for a living slide into the background because it didn't affect their
relationship. His focus over the past few weeks was investing in renewable
energy and through their talks she had come to know Vlad's thinking on the
business front. He was strategic and never passed on a lucrative offer. So why
did he not give these people what they wanted?
His underhanded
dealings were affecting her in a very personal way and she felt like a fool.
Worst of all was that she didn't know whether or not he would negotiate or
deliver on what it is they were asking for in exchange for her freedom.
Intellectually she had pieced together her predicament and understood the
forces at work and the possible dangers surrounding her, yet she could not wrap
her mind around the fact that
all of
this
was happening to
her
- Valerie
Thusi
.
As they checked-in,
Mehmet watched the trip he had so meticulously planned unfold with a
domino-like effect. Timing would be everything from here onwards. He had
purchased two tickets at one-hour intervals from the time she usually left
campus. Valerie had gone back to her old residence and spent hours inside - this
he had not anticipated. It was by chance alone that by the time she caught the
cab that he had arranged, and they rerouted to head to the airport, they were
minutes away from missing the last flight that would align with his itinerary.
If she had spent another ten minutes in that house, his plan would have had to
be postponed to another day. Mehmet didn't know whether it was divine
providence or his planning at work. His thoughts were disrupted by the feminine
voice at his side.
"Where are we
going?"
"You will see
soon enough. Here, take this." He handed her a ticket that was nestled
into a passport.
The navy coloured
jacket of the document, a stark contrast to her olive green passport, brought
home that this kidnapping had been planned. Opening it up, she read that the
ticket was from Cape Town to Johannesburg. She moved it aside and looked
through the information page of what purported to be her travel ID. It was her
picture that stared back at her however, the details were all wrong – her name
was not Mariam
Kassim
, she was not a Turkish citizen
and she was is no way married to the sick man claiming to be her husband.
"Why do I need a passport? This is a forgery. They will figure it out and
pull me aside."
"Don't insult my
intelligence Valerie. If I have put in all this effort to bring you this far,
then what makes you think I would allow myself to get caught over something as
stupid as a bad forgery." He bent over to kiss the crown of her head and
wrap an arm around her waist. At the checkpoint, they handed the slightly
overweight man their passports and tickets. They were cleared to proceed and
Mehmet winked at her, a sign of confidence that everything was going according
to plan. They boarded the plane and took their seats. "How am I doing in
my role of the loving husband?"
Val clenched her jaw
at his Jekyll and Hyde routine. One minute he was cold, calculating and
ruthless, viewing her as a mission that needed to be completed, with everything
he did being a means to an end. In the next, he was all smiles and charm,
portraying himself as a doting lover in the presence of the unsuspecting people
they were surrounded by.
When the flight
attendants had secured all the passengers, she took a deep breath in an attempt
to steady her thoughts. She had friends and family in the city. Even if she
didn't manage to reach them, she was, at least, heading to an area she was
familiar with. Val thought that it was pathetic that a kidnapper needed to
attach his name to her. From what she heard, or rather saw on TV, most took
their victims by force and housed them in undisclosed locations. However, her
circumstances did not detract from the level of danger she was in. Mehmet
had already made it clear that her survival depended on her co-operation. Her
curiosity had her formulating hypotheses and none of them bode well for her.
Whatever contingency
plans that Val had devised during the two-hour flight were completely
obliterated, when on arrival they moved to another departure terminal instead
of the airport exit. She noted clearly that this one read
international
whereas the last one was
domestic
. Cursing in every language she could
recall, the sense of dread increased when it seemed that some of the ideas she
had on her mental worst-case-scenario list were materialising.
Mehmet took hold of
her now clammy hand and in the other he carried on board the only luggage he
had brought with him. It was no larger than an overnight bag, coupled with his
affectionate displays, it gave the impression that they were probably in the
country on a short, lovers’ trip.
When they got on
their next flight and settled in, Mehmet spoke to her for the first time in
over two hours. "When the plane has switched from take-off to cruise mode,
I need you to take the overnight bag into the bathroom. Inside it, you'll find
something more appropriate to wear. If you're uncertain about how any of it
fits, I suggest you ask the flight attendants." Val opened her mouth to
speak but was cut off. "No, don't ask me any questions. Even if I was at
liberty to answer, I wouldn't. Just follow instructions, my dear." He took
in her expressive face that held worried, curious eyes. He could see why
Vladimir was so enamoured with the beautiful, young woman. If he were a
different man in a different position, he would have utilized a different skill
set on this trip. This time, he kissed her cheek before turning his attention
back to a newspaper he had picked up. Val inwardly cringed at the affectionate
contact. The dual personalities were giving her brain whiplash. She sincerely
hoped they were close to their final destination so that he could drop the act.
"Now be the good dutiful wife and do as I say."
Half an hour later,
she was in the bathroom changing into her garments with the aid of one of the
attendants. At check-in, she had discovered that they were travelling to Qatar
and her current ensemble was to ensure that she looked the part. In a foreign
land with absolutely no will of her own given the circumstances, she fell into
the role of the "dutiful wife" Mehmet had described. She kept her
mouth shut, stayed close to his side and merely paid attention. She didn't want
to miss any details that may be of help should the moment arise. Finally, they
exited the airport and got into a car. She hoped the global gallivanting had
come to an end. In the last leg of their journey, she found out that they were
driving into Saudi Arabia. She shrank into the seat at what this meant. Macy
was a fierce feminist and she had learnt enough about Saudi to know that as a
woman in that nation, she was powerless without male supervision.
I am so
fucked!
*****
Throwing the whisky
back, Vlad felt the dark liquid burn its way down his throat and settle in his
stomach. He poured another and another, until he began to feel its calming effects.
His world began to slow down and he could shut out his earlier emotions of
anxiety, fear and anger. He regretted smashing his phone, he had to remember
the motto he lived by - ‘Control the elements within your grasp'.
Walking over to the
lounge table, he opened up his laptop. He tried signing into his email but it
was disconnected. He had momentarily forgotten that he'd asked Mike to clear
everything regarding his previous business dealings earlier that morning. He
needed to contact Mike as soon as humanly possible. Grabbing the keys off the
bar, he headed over to the door and picked up the broken phone along the way.
Tapping on the screen, he realised that it was dead with no chance of it
working unless it went in for repairs. He was not going to bother with that
route, it would only waste his time and every minute was precious. He needed to
find a replacement - one that would hold the SIM with the necessary contact
information of all the relevant people that would play a part in getting Val
back.
He climbed into his
Merc and drove like a madman, reckless and uncaring of other people who shared
the road. The car didn't move nearly as fast as he would have liked. The gears
were controlled and the engine held less power than his tastes usually allowed.
In this moment, he wished he had gotten a car that was indicative of his
character, something fast and dangerous. It was evident to him now as he drove
through the suburban streets that he had let himself go. The only thing that
was on his mind, the only thing that mattered, was Valerie. How he had let this
happen, he refused to think on. He blamed himself and put the sole
responsibility of getting her home on his shoulders. At the V&A Waterfront,
famous for its late shopping hours, he bought a new phone. Not wishing to waste
any more time than he had, he configured the devise and trashed the old one
before leaving the store. His instructions were clipped and his tone was
austere, letting his Slavic accent slip through the meticulous, enunciated
English he had perfected in London. His stance, his strides and his
demeanour radiated a tension so strong that people around him naturally moved
out of his way. Heading back to the car, he dialled the number that was burned
into his memory but it went to voicemail. Once in the safety of the black
interior, he called Mike.
"I need you to
reinstate my email with the client list and orders."
"You just had me
delete that a few hours ago, among many other things," Mike asked
confusedly.
