Harvest Of Tears - The Organization Series 4

HARVEST OF TEARS

 

CHAPTER 12

 

By slave ruthie

 

"Bianca, remember how I used to sneak in here when I was small and you would give me treats?"

 

Bianca put down the dishcloth and frowned.  "Si, Rosa but you sat at the table and fed yourself - not like this THING in chains."  She pointed an accusing finger in Alexa's direction but averted her eyes from the kneeling girl who blanched and stopped chewing.

 

"Alexa is not a 'thing'.  She is my friend and she is our guest here, Bianca."  Rosario kept her voice low, aware that everyone in the kitchen had stopped to listen.  "If anyone else insulted my ward like that, they would suffer badly for it.  Have a care, old woman."

 

Bianca stood tall, despite her crippling arthritis, and defiantly folded her arms.  "'Old woman', is it?  Many times have I put you across my knee and taught you manners when no one else dared and now you threaten me?  You call this 'schiava' your friend but she has no free choice.  You keep her like a toy.  She is no guest either with her arms and legs all locked up - she is a prisoner."  There was a gasp from one of the younger kitchen staff. 

 

The old woman made a curious warding gesture with her gnarled left hand.  "Jettatura," she muttered, and then raised her voice so all could hear.  "Do not look at the schiava's face - she has the Mal d'Occhio." 

 

A chef crossed himself and backed away from the table where Rosario sat with a laden spoon ready to feed the little slave at her feet.  "No, Bianca, this girl does NOT have the Evil Eye.  She protected Uncle Armando who took her in and..."

 

"And died.  Oh, I do not blame the poor creature.  She cannot help that she carries a curse."  Bianca pointed her finger again but this time it was directly at Rosario.  "You will bitterly regret the day you heard of this Strega - mark my words."

 

"Superstitious nonsense and you know it!"  Rosario stood and glared at Bianca.  Just because she was her nonno's half-cousin, it did not give her the right to accuse Alexa of being a witch.

 

"So I'm being foolish, eh?  Just like when I begged your papa not to go to the Superbowl the day his limo went under that truck and he laughed at my superstition."  Bianca put her hands on her hips and glared right back.

 

The argument became more heated as both women squared up to each other, gesticulating and shouting in a mixture of English and Sicilian.  It was too much for Alexa.  Shunned and ignored by Rosario's staff, forgotten by the padrona and the old woman, the little slave shuffled quietly away in her fetters to hide and weep. 

 

She got as far as the passageway before bumping headlong into Alfonso.  "Do not worry, schiava bene - Bianca, she come around.  All the time they fight.  She love the padrona like a daughter and want only to protect her.  I speak Bianca for you."  He let go of her hair and stroked her wet cheek.  "I salute you."  Alexa looked up into his kindly, smiling eyes.  "One so small taking out so large a man like Miller!"  Alfonso patted her head in an affectionate, almost fatherly way.  "All of us after him.  The Agency, the Bureau, il Familia, the Triad, your Organizatione - everyone!  It was a matter of honor who will take him down before the rest...and you get him first!  Such brava from an untrained schiava assassin!"

 

Alexa didn't know what to say or how to respond.  She hadn't gone after Miller and certainly hadn't set out to kill him - he had abducted and tortured HER.  When she jumped off the tower to escape the cruelty, she hoped to drag him down with her to put an end his sadistic murder spree.  It was a desperate, suicidal act - not bravery.

 

"Maybe la Padrona allows me to teach you use a knife - you like that, schiava bene?"  Before she could reply, he reached down at gently poked her in her back between her lower ribs.  "See, here is a good place.  Stab the kidney and pain will make her...ahh, him to drop like a stone.  Death too quick to fight back or cry out loud, capische?  I will ask if she permits.  Now, lift up your chin.  Bene."  He looped a plastic tag under her collar then pulled it tight through a small object.  "Do not worry - is only a tracker so we not lose you in this big house.  Your man, Guy, he think it a good idea too.  Now, you explore but not to go outside for it is cold and your dress is too thin."  Alfonso grinned and swatted her rump, propelling her down the corridor before closing the kitchen door so she could no longer hear the argument raging between Rosario and the old woman.

 

Rosario's home was truly vast.  She wandered through room after ornate room, marveling at the beautiful art and objects around the walls.  One particular painting caught her eye.  A vast swirl of vibrant color almost leapt out of the canvas.  She instantly recognized the picture and its artist - the initials in the bottom right corner confirmed it.  It had been propped against the wall in Gina's tiny apartment!  What was it doing here?  Alexa stood, lost in thoughts of all the people she had met since arriving in the United States.  Gina had shown her so much kindness and compassion, only to be enslaved by Master Leroy.  They were briefly re-united in New York but neither could communicate as they had been fettered and gagged in a holding pen.  They had stretched as far as their collar chains allowed to touch each other's cuffed feet.  That was the last time they had met.

 

She caught sight of her reflection in a large, gilt-edged mirror across the room.  Alexa felt utterly out of place amidst the sumptuous furnishings, standing in her fetters over a hand-me-down oversized school uniform.  Why had her master been so angry?  She wanted nothing more right then than to kneel next to him and to feel his reassuring fingers under the back of her collar.  Perhaps whatever had annoyed her master had passed but she didn't dare go to find him.  No, he would summon her when he chose and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

At the far corner of the room, she noticed a curtain partly concealing a stone archway.  Alexa moved to see through the entrance to the passage beyond.  It revealed a small chapel, which was occupied by an old man kneeling before a statue of a woman.  The life sized carving was made of dark, cracked wood.  Ancient and serene, her features marred by extreme age, the Madonna had upraised arms and stood before a crown of stars painted on the wall behind her head.  Alexa reflexively crossed herself and curtseyed as her grandmother had taught her before her childhood had descended into an abusive nightmare.  As she raised her eyes, she realized the old man was watching her.

 

“You know Our Lady?"  He smiled and beckoned her closer.  "Come, join me."  Alexa knelt uncertainly by the man.  "You do not know me, do you?  Ah but I know you, schiava Alexa."  He stared up at the statue.  "Asherat, she was called long before the Magdalene ever set foot in Marseilles.  She was Our Lady Of The Sea and God's consort until the Holy Church took her as its own.  She is beautiful and she is terrible.  I fear her judgment."  The old man shrugged and looked at Alexa with sadness in his eyes.  "I have done so many...questionable things in my long life.  And now I have so little time left to make amends.  You are part of my atonement - Armando, he asked it in my cousin Lucia's name and she...”  He turned back to look at the statue.  "...She would not forgive if I broke my word."  Then he surprised Alexa by taking her head in his hands and gently kissing her brow.

 

*****

 

Master Charles looked across at Gérard but the doctor studiously avoided his gaze.  The young man appeared to be embarrassed by something.  "Do you believe that girl, Maria, will last very long?  Rosario does appear to be very hard on her toys."  No response.  "Are you listening, Gérard?  You appear to be distracted this morning."

 

"Pardon?"  The younger man looked blankly at him.

 

"It does not matter.  Just forget it."  Master Charles sighed, picked up his papers and tried to concentrate on the report for the umpteenth time.  It was no use.  The summary on the transformation of the Organization's UK facilities from undisciplined chaos to efficiency should have satisfied him as the new Head of Security, his old friend Lady Sarah M_________, had implemented all his recommendations.  And it had been through her inspired nomination of Mullah Al-O___ as a new master that the oil pipeline being built across Afghanistan was now free from tribal attacks.  So why was he disinterested? 

 

Alexa came from London - that was why.  Through his failure to kill her, he might have placed the Organization in danger.  How could he be so foolish by letting his feelings for the girl get in the way of his duties?  Was it really love?  No, it was infatuation, that was all, and it would surely pass.

 

*****

 

The torment of having her perineum crushed between penetrating fingers made her cry out at the wrong moment.  Maria felt the man's semen trickle from her nose.  She coughed and sneezed in fearful misery, knowing that her failure to swallow all her abuser's cum would mean the horrible needles would be re-inserted inside her aching private parts to cause incredible pain. 

 

"Why you useless, fucking slut!  You STILL haven't learned to suck cock properly, have you?"  The man in front had seized her hair, twisting her head painfully upwards.  ".Just look at the state of my slacks, you dirty bitch."  He poked a finger into her eye, making her shriek in desperate agony.  "Why I've got a good mind to..."

 

"No."  The cold voice of the man behind her paused the assault on her streaming eye.  "You heard the Padrona.  No damage to her property unless she says so.  Leave us."  Maria sobbed with relief - she did not want to be blinded!  But the respite was short-lived.  She heard the sound of a zip then a discarded condom wrapper joined the other fifteen on the stable floor below her face.  There was a strange whooshing noise like a foam aerosol accompanied by a pungent, medical smell, similar to the ointment she used when her ankle had been sprained playing school volleyball.  The man behind moved closer, taking hold of her ponytail and yanking her head as far back as it would go.  When he began to penetrate her backside again, she cried out.  She hated anal rape most of all - it was dirty, humiliating, and extremely painful.

 

This time it was much, much worse.  A burning sensation seared inside her sensitive backside.  Maria started shrieking and did not stop.  "Not as pretty or as tight as a young boy," the man sneered with disgust.  "But you will have to do.  Start squeezing properly, whore-bitch, or I will make you REALLY suffer."

 

*****

 

"Goodness me!  You two look like someone has died."  Rosario threw herself down into an armchair and kicked off her shoes. 

 

Master Charles looked past her to the door.  "Have you finished with my slave?  Where is Alexa?"

 

Rosario waved an indifferent hand.  "Oh, she will be somewhere in the house."

 

"You don't know?  Surely she is not unattended?"  He looked furiously at Rosario, angered further by her amused expression.

 

"What is the problem?  I am sure my ward is perfectly safe in my own home.  You are ever so touchy about Alexa.  She is hardly going to hurt herself or anyone else, for that matter."

 

But master Charles was not satisfied.  He stood up and frowned.  "I need to find her.  Tell me Alexa is at least fettered.  She is not allowed to be unrestrained."

 

"Charles, dear - calm yourself down.  I will ask Alfonso to fetch her."  Rosario pressed a button on the table by her chair.  "And yes, she is in chains, although why you insisted on that excessive condition before bringing my ward here puzzles me, Charles.  Why must she be restrained like a criminal?"

 

"It is because she..."  Master Charles stopped himself from blurting out how dangerous little Alexa might be.  He would have to tell them everything and that would be a huge mistake.

 

"It is a condition imposed by the Executive Council after Miller's death."  Gérard interceded, glancing across in his friend's direction.  "According to the Organization's rules, a slave who is involved in any way with the death or injury of a master or guard must be killed.  It is only because of our president's intervention that Alexa's execution was suspended for a year, to be rescinded for good behavior but on condition she is fettered in public at all times."

 

"Well, that is a stupid rule which takes no account of circumstances.  Thank goodness your president is such a sensible man."

 

Both men looked at each other.  Master Charles faintly shook his head.  Now was not the time to explain that the Organization's titular head was actually a female African-American slave.

 

Alfonso appeared and nodded towards Rosario.  "Si, padrona?"

 

"Our guest would like his little slave back, Alfonso.  Do you know where Alexa is?''

 

The servant whispered into a radio, paused then smiled.  "Schiava bene, she is in the chapel with your grandfather, padrona."

 

The news was too much for master Charles, suddenly fearing the very worst, unthinkable incident could have already occurred - his slave going berserk and killing the head of the Family!  "Where is this chapel?  We have to get there FAST before she..."

 

Even Gérard looked puzzled.  "Before she what, Charles?  What is wrong with Alexa?"  But his colleague was already racing out of the door behind Alfonso who had his stiletto knife at the ready to protect Don Marco from an unknown threat.

 

*****

 

"Please let me go!  Please!"  Guljana begged her unseen captors as she knelt, blindfolded and bound on the dirt floor."

 

"She speaks our language well for an infidel bitch."  The mocking sound of a man standing over sneered in derision.  "It is so disgusting that the American devils let their women dress like men and leave their heads uncovered in public.  Have they truly no idea how uncivilized and insulting to Allah they are?  The idea of a female soldier is so vile, so obscene."

 

A horrifyingly familiar voice responded just in front of her face.  "Ahh but she is no American and no soldier either, are you, my dear?"  The dirty blindfold was unwound.  Piercingly cruel eyes stared out from a dreadfully burned and scarred face.  The horribly disfigured features did not prevent Guljana from recognizing the man.  It was the Talib warlord who had snatched her when she came to beg for medicine for her ailing grandfather.  It was Sharazai!

 

"Hello, Guljana.  Welcome back."

 

*****

 

When they reached the chapel, Alexa was helping Don Marco stand after kneeling too long.  He leaned heavily against the girl's shoulder and looked expectantly at the perspiring Alfonso and Master Charles.  "Well?  What is so important that you have to disturb our prayers?  Alfonso, put the knife away - you might hurt someone."

 

Guy arrived, silenced gun at the ready, having been alerted by the doctor.  Don Marco kept his hand on the girl's shoulder.  "What is going on?  What has happened?  My granddaughter - she is unharmed?  TELL ME!"  At that moment, Rosario joined them, accompanied by Gérard.  "You are safe - thank goodness.  But why all this trouble?  Charles?"

 

"Ah, it is all a misunderstanding, Don Marco."  Master Charles clipped a leash onto Alexa's collar and gently scratched behind her ear.  "I was concerned that my slave would panic when left unsupervised.  I can see that my fears were unfounded.  Please accept my apology for causing alarm."  As explanations went, this one was pretty lame and he knew it was unconvincing.

 

"Yes, well.  No harm done."  The aged Don turned to his granddaughter.  "All this excitement has given me an appetite, Rosario.  Is there a chance you could make an extra space at the lunch table for an old man?"

 

Rosario immediately came forward to take his arm.  "Nonno, you know better than to ask - there is always room for you here."

 

Master Charles looked down and smiled.  "Alexa, what on earth are you wearing?"

 

"Ah, that was my idea."  Rosario called back as she left the chapel with her grandfather.  "I will explain over lunch."

 

Lunch was a relaxed affair of various Italian breads, meats, cheeses and a light, fruity Sicilian wine.  Alexa found herself kneeling between two powerful men.  On her right sat Don Marco, chatting to her master over her head.  It was at times like this that Alexa realized how much her life had changed from vaguely remembered infancy with her kindly grandmother until her death.  Then the horrors of her childhood had begun - the neglect, the cruelty, the physical and sexual abuse.  Her time in care had been so lonely - nobody wanted to foster her.  Aunt Faye had taken her in when she returned from Australia but there was hardly any room in her tiny apartment for Alexa's cousins, let alone an orphan.  So she had found a job with lodgings but the hours were long, the pay low, and her boss had turned out to be a bullying tyrant. 

Since her abduction and collaring by Master Stephen, an unloved and unwanted girl had become a personal slave to not just one but two great men!  There had been hardships, she had suffered pain and injury in slavery but it was all worthwhile as she had finally found love. 

 

Alexa looked down at the feet on either side.  Her master's hand reached down and opened to reveal a tiny piece of meat.  She carefully picked it up with her teeth, kissing his palm with her parted lips but leaving no trace of saliva on his skin.  A scratch behind her left ear rewarded her diligence before his fingers hooked under her collar.

 

"You people look after your women most strangely, Charles.  I had thought to see only harsh discipline, never affection."  Don Marco looked down between their dining chairs and grinned.  "I would never try that with one of our own women - unless you did not mind losing your fingers!"

 

The laughter around the table made Alexa smile.  She liked Rosario's grandfather.

 

"Your little slave here is more than just Rosario's ward, you know.  Armando did not only leave everything belonging to him and Lucia to her.  He declared Alexa to be like a daughter to him and that makes her almost my niece."

 

Rosario's distinctive laugh broke the silence caused by Don Marco's announcement.  "But that would mean Alexa is my aunt?  Oh, nonno!  This is absolutely priceless!”  Alexa felt she could never look her in the face again, not after they had both...

 

Thankfully, the conversation above her head turned to other matters.  Rosario recounted her meeting with the mayor and his new police chief, explaining how Alexa's presence and schoolgirl appearance had been an excellent weapon that brought the new city official firmly under the Family's control.

 

"I saw the press conference on the news channel."  Don Marco raised his glass to his granddaughter, pride evident in his face.  "They were given a hard time over the killings."

 

"Has there been another one, nonno?"

 

The old man nodded.  "In Brooklyn - same M.O. as the others."

 

A chill crept through Master Charles.  "I have not heard about this.  Is there a serial killer on the loose?" 

 

"It certainly looks that way but the victims are no great loss.  When the first bodies showed up, I told City Hall to give me the victims' backgrounds."  Don Marco shrugged.  "Low-lives - child molesters, convicted rapists...scum of the earth."

 

"A vendetta?  Or a vigilante?"

 

"A woman." 

 

Alexa felt her master's hand tighten on her collar.  He spoke calmly but she knew Don Marco's words had upset him in some way.  "Do you have more details?  Perhaps we can help - Gérard, we could offer profiling assistance?"

 

Don Marco held up his glass for Alfonso to pour more wine.  "The police think she lures them by pretending to be a victim.  Various weapons and other items, like handcuffs and duct tape bearing the victims' fingerprints have been found at the crime scenes."  He paused to sip the excellent vintage.  "Always it is the same.  They are literally torn apart, limb from limb.  The heads are discarded but their genitals are forced down their throats.  And the hearts - they are always missing."

 

Master Charles felt sick but not with revulsion.  "How many?  When did it start?"

 

"At least forty in the past year."

 

Gérard noticed the expression on his friend's ashen face.  "Pardon, Don Marco - you said a woman did this.  How do the police know it was one person?'

 

"Ah, dottore.  There was DNA from wound sites - saliva, and hair fibers.  It was definitely female but the samples, they are strange."

 

"In what way?"

 

"Too many chromosomes - I do not understand these things but the lab says the attacker is abnormal."

 

"What kind of woman..."

 

Don Marco put down his glass, reached for his walking stick and patted Alexa on the head as he stood.  "Indeed.  Now excuse me for I must go to a Family baptism - it seems my blessing is almost as important as the priest's."

 

Master Charles sighed.  He had brought Alexa over from London nearly a year ago.  But there simply could not be a connection between his slave and these murders in New York – she was never free, never unfettered.  Even if Alexa was a defective Roslyn girl, she always had a cast-iron alibi.  It did not make any sense! 

 

His slave looked up and smiled uncertainly.  “Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes, Alexa.  I’ll ask Guy to fix up a cage so you can have an afternoon nap.”