Click Bait Ch. 03

Uri flagged down an old man driving a rusty old pickup and had him drive Uri to an abandoned farmhouse that Uri had purchased as a redoubt just in case of just such an event. He kept the farmhouse secret from everybody else. He debated whether or not to kill the grizzled old man who had driven him to his hideout. Prudence said he should but he'd seen enough killing for one day and the man would likely forget where he had taken Uri because Uri doubted the old man could even remember his own birthday. He gave the old man five thousand dollars and sent him on his way.

Uri pulled up some floorboards and found the lockbox he had hidden there. He opened it to check the contents: one million dollars in cash and Krugerrands. He pulled a briefcase out of the hole and checked its contents: a set of car keys, a burner phone and two driver's licences and passports in fictitious names, good enough to pass scrutiny from law enforcement and Homeland Security officials.

His suit was tattered, torn and dusty and he had a number of superficial wounds from the car crash which he treated with the contents of a first aid kit. He cleaned up as best he could and changed into new chinos, a chambray shirt and leather sneakers. In the barn of the farmhouse was a Ford Explorer. Uri checked on his cache and started the car at regular intervals because it was his means of emergency escape. The Explorer started immediately he pressed the start button.

He knew that Dmitriy Yakovich's men would be circling out from the crash site searching for him. He loaded up the Explorer and hit the road. He didn't fly because he didn't want to use his new identity documents until he was well clear of California and Dmitriy's men would be watching the airports so he drove. Using the I-40 and staying at the speed limit with an overnight rest stop at a no-tell motel where he paid cash for a room it took Uri a little over two days to drive to Long Island.

Outside of Bethlehem Pennsylvania he made a call from a truck stop using a land line. He spoke to Katya Kuznetsova.

Katya informed him that Uri's boss Alexi Agronov had been brutally slain. He had been hung from the rafters of his horse stables and skinned alive, Alexi's wife and children had been killed and their house burnt down with their bodies inside it.

Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich was sending a message to other organised crime organisations that he would not tolerate insubordination or infringements. He had put out a one million dollar reward for Uri Orlov, delivered to him alive and threatened that he would kill anyone along with their families is they aided Uri Orlov's escape.

"I didn't know that Boris Balagula worked for Dmitriy Yakovich. I not go anywhere near him if I knew. Dmitriy Yakovich is madman... psychopath!" Uri hissed into the phone.

"He's worse than that. You are a dead man walking Uri," Katya stated the obvious.

"Can I come to you?" Uri asked, desperation in his voice.

"I still have my cottage on at Southold on Paradise Point Road, you remember?" Katya breathed into the phone.

"Of course remember," Uri grinned.

Katya Kuznetsova was now the only person in the world that Uri could trust; Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich had poisoned the well.

Katya Kuznetsova

On her eighteenth birthday Katya Kuznetsova ran away from her home in Rohoziv Ukraine. Already a natural beauty she had dreams of following in the footsteps of other Ukrainian exports such as Milla Jovovich and Mila Kunis and becoming a famous actress in America. Adequately educated but poor, she had established an online relationship with a man claiming to be a scout for a theatrical agent in Hollywood.

He asked for her measurements, shoes size, and for pictures of her dressed scantily and eventually a series of nudes. Katya wasn't that stupid; she guessed the man might just be a troll looking for pictures of young women but she had nothing to lose. When the man purchased her airline tickets from Kiev to Los Angeles she was as surprised as anyone, including her friends who told her that she was likely being enticed into forced prostitution which was a common fairy tale that the teenage girls in Rohoziv used to scare each other.

"Did you hear about Rosa? She answered an ad to work as an au pair in Bonn and ended up being forced to work in a brothel!" was an oft repeated dark tale.

Rosa was actually backpacking around the UK and working as a waitress in a fast food restaurant at a motorway services stop near Manchester England; but never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

Two years earlier Katya had applied for a passport so she could go on a school excursion to London but her mother couldn't afford the fares and Katya still had the passport. Fed up of being poor and looking forward to a life of drudgery working in an office or a factory she had dreams of leaving home and making her way in the world.

Being a stunning beauty she had attracted many young and not so young men with whom she had flirted and who had schooled her in the art of seduction but she soon tired of them and she had not surrendered her virtue. Her mother had told Katya that her pretty face, long legs and what she kept between them could be the key or her future. But her mother, also a good looking woman, was no exemplar for that kind of life. Her husband had left her destitute and her current boyfriend beat her regularly and had recently taken an unhealthy interest in Katya, stealing her underwear and sneaking around her bedroom door.

No. It was time to leave Rohoziv and leave she did.

She was met at LAX by a man who spoke Russian but demanded that they converse in English. If Katya was going to make it in the US of A she needed to speak good English he insisted. Katya half expected to be driven to some hovel where her passport would be taken from her and she would be raped and forced into prostitution just like the grim tales her girlfriends told in Rohoziv. But the man was driving an expensive car, was dressed in a suit and appeared quite civilised.

Katya was surprised when the car turned down a long driveway protected by a manned guardhouse built into a substantial brick wall which ran along the borders of the property. Inside the walls were manicured lawns, landscaped gardens scattered with marble and sandstone sculptures and several fountains. The house itself was imposing but modern and stylish. Whoever lived here had money and was important. Was she really going to meet some big time producer or theatrical agent?

There were more men in suits patrolling the grounds or at least they seemed to be patrolling. There were also gardeners and household employees going about their business. The place was busy.

The car pulled up in front of the house and the driver opened the door for Katya.

"You should be very grateful and impressed that he is seeing you personally; he only sees the special ones," the man said which Katya found a little puzzling.

"Go inside. I'll bring your suitcase up to your room," the man waved her away.

It was only then that Katya realised that the man who had collected her at the airport had never introduced himself.

Katya figured that she should be grateful that she was considered one of the special ones and went inside the house where she was met by a stunning woman wearing an expensive looking skirt-suit.

"I'm Liza Lawton, please follow me," the young woman with the British accent led Katya up a curving marble staircase.

"What is this place? Who am I here to see?" she asked as she followed the woman up the stairs.

Katya noticed that Liza was wearing seamed stockings which seemed a little archaic but the woman's sense of style couldn't be questioned. The elegant dark suit fitted her perfectly: cinched at the waist, moulded to her bosom, the hem of the skirt resting mid-thigh, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed, her makeup heavy but flawless. Katya doubted the sparkling stones around her neck and the drop earrings were fakes and the red soles on her high heels implied Christian Louboutin. Katya also noticed that Liza had a small scorpion tattooed on her left ankle.

Liza herself could be a movie star or a model; maybe she was?

They entered a large bedroom that was styled with soft beige carpet and matching curtains. The furniture was ornate and expensive, the bed the size of a small swimming pool.

"Freshen up. Take a shower. There are cosmetics on the vanity and clothes in the armoire. Wear the red dress and heels. Hosiery is not optional in this house," Liza said dourly.

It was not lost on Katya that Liza had not answered any of her questions. Was she about to be interviewed? Given a screen test or required to walk a runway? Surely she would receive some sort of training before she was made to do so? Three years of amateur theatrics at the musical school in Boryspil was hardly an adequate background for a future as model or an actress.

Whatever she was required to do didn't really matter for now. Katya had never seen such opulence. The ride from the airport through streets which were clean, sunlit, and filled with people who seemed happy and affluent was a far cry from the poverty and squalor she lived in at home. This was the miracle she had hoped for so why look a gift horse in the mouth?

The ensuite bathroom was as big as the whole of the ground floor of the house she lived in in Rohoziv. It was tiled with pink marble and the fittings appeared to be gilded with gold. She stripped out of her travel clothes which were quite funky and stepped under the rainfall shower and lathered herself with the Hermès eau d'orange verte hair and body shower gel. It was an extravagance that she savoured and she was reluctant to leave the shower but she was impatient to see what other wonders lay waiting for her in this house.

She brushed her teeth and rinsed with mouthwash and suddenly realised that she was ravenously hungry. She had eaten only airline food for the last two days. She dried her shoulder-length raven hair with the blow drier and wished that she had been able to get her hair cut and styled before she left home.

She checked out her body in the full-length mirror and as she did Liza entered the room.

"Let me see," Liza had Katya stand naked before her.

Liza examined Katya's body.

Katya was tall and slim and long-legged with small perky breasts and flawless alabaster skin. She had striking emerald green eyes just like her mother who had warned her to make the most of her looks while she was young. If her mother could see her now she would eat her heart out with jealousy.

Liza pointed to a white satin robe lying out on the bed.

"You can wear that while you put on your makeup," she turned on her heels and left without saying another word.

Katya she slipped into the cool satin robe and sat down at the vanity. She stared at the cosmetics arrayed like toy soldiers on the antique wooden vanity: Oriflame, Estee Lauder, MAC, L'Oreal, Chanel, names she had heard of but never dreamed of owning.

She put on her makeup deciding that she needed to make a spectacular entrance when this theatrical mogul saw her for the first time. She used very little foundation and only a light dusting of finishing powder and a little blush and went to work on her eyes which she accentuated with heavy black eyeliner, mauve and purple eyeshadow and thick mascara. For dramatic effect she applied Bond No. 9 lipstick in Park Avenue red to her lips and found a matching shade of nailpolish that she carefully applied to her fingernails and did her toenails for good measure.

While she waited for the nailpolish to dry she contemplated her future. Had she been discovered by some wealthy executive in the entertainment industry? Was she to be a model or a TV star? The lavishness of her surroundings suggested that the man she had come to see was rich and powerful.

Katya went to the armoire and opened it up. There was quite an array of runway-label clothing and footwear all in her size. The surprise effect was wearing off. The online talent scout had asked for her measurements so it made sense that the clothing and shoes were in her size. She picked up a high heel and was not surprised to find it was a genuine Louboutin. As directed she took down the red Dolce & Gabbana low cut silk sheath. It was sleeveless with a plunging neckline. She opened the drawers and found lingerie and hosiery, selecting a pair of hi-cut, seamless full-briefs made from nylon and spandex in red.

She figured the panties would be undetectable under the sheath dress. She found the matching seamless wire-free brassiere and then went looking for hosiery of which there was an extensive collection. She selected a pair of flesh-tone Wolford Individual ten denier pantyhose which she carefully stepped into.

She admired herself once again in the mirror. The sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose exposed her Brazilian waxed pubic hair which she achieved herself using a safety razor and depilatory cream.

Katya didn't need Liza's warning about hosiery not being optional. All the girls at her school had been shaving their pubic hair as soon as they started secondary school and they all wore pantyhose rather than the ugly thick tights preferred by the older women in Rohoziv. Katya had started shaving her legs and wearing pantyhose as soon as her mother would let her. She even wore them under her cheap knock-off skinny jeans that she bought at the local flea market because it made it easier to slip into the tight denim pants. Katya loved the way hosiery made her long legs look perfect and elegant. She didn't understand western women's disdain for pantyhose.

After smoothing out her pantyhose she slipped into her panties and bra; the panties sent little tingles of excitement up her nylon-sheathed legs as they slid them on and pulled them tight around her buttocks and pubis. She gave herself a tiny little rub but didn't want to get her juices flowing into her fresh clean underwear. Although a virgin Katya was a keen masturbator and enjoyed languidly stroking her clitoris until she was close to orgasm and then backing off. She would edge herself for hours that way, alone in her bed during cold winter nights.

The sheath dress slipped over her body aided by her slippery nylons and silky smooth bra and panty set. She pulled it into shape and it was flawless, not a bulge, seam or pantyline in sight. The hem rested mid-thigh and tickled her legs in a nice way. She slipped on the Louboutin's and took another twirl in front of the mirror. She reached for perfume but found only a solitary bottle of Poison so she doused herself liberally with the heavy parfum. She was ready.

As if on cue Liza burst through the door unannounced and strode over and studied Katya from head to toe. She made a show of straightening a hemline that didn't need to be straightened and picking imaginary fluff off Katya's dress. Katya sensed a little jealousy.

"You'll do I suppose," Liza sighed.

She went over to a picture and swung it on hidden hinges to reveal a wall safe. Liza opened the safe and took out a blue felt-lined box and brought it over to the vanity.

"Stand still," she ordered and put a simple silver and sapphire necklace around Katya's neck and matching earrings in her ears.

"Come," she led Katya back to the mirror.

Katya had never looked so beautiful. Her jet-black hair contrasted with the red dress and her alabaster skin, her bold eye makeup, red lipstick and sapphire jewellery all complemented the ensemble. She towered over Liza in her heels and felt beautiful and powerful. There was still some trepidation but she was ready to meet her mysterious benefactor.

"Keep your eyes down, be respectful and don't speak until you are spoken to," Liza warned her and led Katya out of the bedroom and along the mezzanine to a big room that was expensively decorated with ornate furniture, exotic artwork and antiques.

"Wait here," Liza ordered and opened the door to an adjoining room.

"The new girl is here. Vlad did a good job this time, she's everything you saw in the photographs and more," Katya overheard Liza say.

"I am Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich and you are Katya Kuznetsova of Rohoziv Ukraine," the most handsome man that Katya had ever seen said as he entered the room.

He was tall and held his head high. He had striking blue eyes set in dark sockets, a long elegant nose, chiselled cheekbones and a narrow chin. His skin was dark and tanned and he sported a well-manicured black beard; his hair was long, thick, black and lustrous. His lithe frame was well muscled. Katya could see his chest and calves because he was wearing only a blue silk robe with gold embellishments and leather sandals. His cologne was exotic and pungent; his full lips were parted with a smile that displayed prefect white teeth. Every part of his exposed skin except for his face was heavily tattooed.

The man exuded power and wealth.

He took Katya's hand and softly kissed it, his beard tickling the back of her hand and then he circled her slowly and examined her like a trainer would inspect a fine filly.

"Eighteen and still a virgin?" he directed his question to Liza.

"So she claims. I haven't had her examined yet," Liza responded.

"Amazing," Dmitriy lifted Katya's chin and examined her face.

Katya found the discussion about her virginity a little unsettling. This was not the 1940's where an unmarried female celebrity's virtue was a point of discussion.

"Her English is good?" Dmitriy asked.

"Very good. Widens the market. She's a little old for some of our customers but she's an exquisite specimen," Liza replied, a little pleased with herself.

"What do you think?" Dmitriy continued to circle Katya, examining her closely.

"If we get her to Dubai this week I think we can get two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty. Same down in Brazil, three hundred in Japan or China if we dye her hair blonde," Liza said matter-of-factly.

Katya thought she was going to faint. She could hardly breathe. The old wives tales the girls told to scare each other in Rohoziv were true. She had been lured into a sex trafficking ring.

"What if she wasn't a virgin?" Dmitriy lifted Katya's chin again and smiled at her.

If Katya didn't perceive that this man was a people trafficker she would likely fall for him, although he was a little older than her he was stunningly attractive and gave off an air of dignity and eloquence.

"Half of what I quoted you Dmitriy. You're not going to fuck her are you? She's not worth it. Keeping her hymen intact doubles our profit," there was anger and jealousy in Liza's response.

Dmitriy turned on Liza and his eyes burned with anger. He was not a man who was used to being told what to do and certainly not by a woman.

"Leave us! Cancel the rest of my appointments and have the staff deliver dinner for two to my private dining room. I am not to be disturbed... understand!' Dmitriy growled at Liza.

He didn't raise his voice because he didn't need to. The menace, evil and malevolence in his voice and manner were enough to convey his intent.

Liza left the room and Katya began to shake with fear.

"You heard what we said? You know why you are here?" Dmitriy stroked Katya's cheek.

Katya had been so close to her dreams. She had seen the prosperity and wholesomeness around her: the nice houses, nice cars, the stores filled with exotic wares. Now it was all gone because she had been naïve and stupid. She articulated such to Dmitriy.

"I should have known it was all too good to be true. I'm stupid," she refused to cry and refused to look down as Liza had ordered her to do.

She glared at Dmitriy defiantly, her ice-blue eyes burning into his.

"There is something about you. It's not just your incredible beauty, you have a fire in you," Dmitriy stepped into her, his lips almost touching hers.