“She’s just a kid. If you need someone to abuse, take me. At least I can handle it.”
“Oh, sure,” Susan complained, not absorbing the extent of Jackson’s ulterior motives. “Use my age against me to take my spot inside. First you talk to me in the field, and now this. That’s just great!”
The moment the words sank in, Ariane took a step backward. She knew that Jackson was going to strike her again. He didn’t have a choice. She had broken one of his major rules, and he would have to punish her. And he didn’t let her down.
Jackson closed his fist into a ball and swung viciously, connecting with Ariane’s face just above her jawline. It was a savage blow, one that knocked her unconscious before she even hit the ground. Then, as she lay there, he kicked her once in the stomach just to prove to the other women that he was still in control.
“Guards, while you’re at it, take her in the house, too. Now that she’s broken one of my commandments, we’re gonna have to dispose of her. But before we do, I think she can provide all of us with some entertainment.”
CHAPTER 39
THEO
Webster answered the phone, smiling. If there was one thing in the world he could count on, it was Hannibal Kotto’s punctuality. “Hannibal, it’s nice to hear from you again. How are things in Nigeria?”
“They would be much better if America finally wised up and set its clocks to Nigerian time. It would make my sleeping habits much more routine.”
Webster laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, tell me about the auction.”
“As I hoped, the winning bid exceeds your minimum price.”
“By how much?”
Kotto smiled and told him the number.
“Holy shit,” Webster mumbled as he did some calculations in his head. He had twenty-three units of snow on the Plantation. Throw in some extra cash for Tonya Edwards, the pregnant one, and they were going to make a lot more money than he had ever expected.
“How soon can you make the shipment?”
“The sooner the better.”
“Excellent,” Kotto said. “I’ll notify the buyers at once.”
Webster hung up the phone, stunned. The dollar amount that Kotto had quoted was beyond Webster’s wildest dreams. Actually, in the very beginning, the concept of cash had never even entered his thoughts. He wanted to establish the Plantation for revenge, not money. He planned to smuggle people onto his island and treat them the way his ancestors had been treated. In his mind it would teach white people about the horrors of slavery while striking a blow for the black culture. Of course, since he’d never been an athletic person, he knew he needed help to make his plan a reality. He could control the bureaucracy by himself, but he needed someone to handle the brutality, someone who had been trained for it. But who?
While looking for assistance, Webster solicited the advice of Harris Jackson, his ex-roommate from college. Jackson wasn’t very supportive of the idea at the time-this was before his legal problems had occurred-but he suggested the name of a client who might be willing to help. And it was the perfect recommendation.
Until that point, Octavian Holmes had made a good living as a mercenary, offering his military expertise to the highest foreign bidder, but he’d reached the point in his life where he was looking for a change of pace-guerrilla warfare in South America and jungle tactics in Africa were quickly losing their appeal. He was thinking about running a training camp for militia types or opening his own shooting range, but he’d never gotten around to it.
When Webster first called, Holmes was immediately intrigued with the idea. The concept of slavery was one that had always fascinated him, and the chance to actually participate in it was too great to pass up. Unfortunately for Webster, Holmes wasn’t willing to do it for free. To coordinate something as large as the Plantation, Holmes wanted to be compensated in an appropriate fashion. But Webster didn’t have that type of cash. He was willing to pay what he could, but it simply wasn’t enough to please a professional soldier like Holmes. So, before it even got started, the Plantation had hit a snag, a problem that threatened its existence.
But not to worry. Holmes came up with a logical solution that saved the day. Why not make money while getting revenge? That way, they could get profits and vengeance at the same time.
It sounded good to Webster, but he wasn’t quite sure how it would work.
Holmes quickly clued him in. He told Webster about an African who had hired him for some military exercises in Nigeria. The man’s name was Hannibal Kotto, and he was reputed to be as powerful as he was wealthy. Holmes claimed that Kotto was loved and respected throughout Africa despite his tendency to operate outside the letter of the law. In fact, while Holmes was in Lagos, he had heard rumors of a white slavery ring that Kotto was attempting to start.
The concept intrigued Webster. If the rumors were true, then he would be able to take his slavery idea to a whole new level. Instead of just kidnapping and torturing white folks for revenge, he could actually sell them to the motherland for money. It would be the original slave trade, but in reverse: whites going to a black land instead of blacks going to a white one.
After checking with his sources, Holmes discovered that the rumors about Kotto were true. In fact, he had already laid the foundation for the business. Kotto and Edwin Drake, an Englishman who lived in Johannesburg, had cultivated a long list of African entrepreneurs who were interested in buying white-skinned slaves. Even though Africans could hire black servants at a minimal price, the idea of having a white slave was too compelling to pass up. To them, a white slave would be a status symbol, like owning a Mercedes or a Ferrari.
If I’m rich, I can hire a servant, but if I’m super rich, I can buy a white one.
On top of that, many men planned on using white women as concubines, fair-skinned mistresses to have at their disposal.
Still, the concept wasn’t perfect.
After several failed experiments, Kotto and Drake realized it was difficult to find a reliable supplier of whites. Sure, the two men wanted to make money off of the slave trade, but neither of them wanted to get his hands dirty. They wanted someone else to do the hard stuff. Furthermore, even though there were thousands of white people scattered across Africa, neither man wanted to make enemies on the African continent. Kotto said it would be like defecating in his own backyard. In his mind, if they were going to get white people, they were going to have to smuggle them in from places where the two men had few ties: Australia, Europe, and North America.
And that’s when the Plantation organizers stepped in and offered their services.
They were the suppliers. Kotto and Drake were the distributors.
A partnership was forged.
CHAPTER 40
IF
there’d been food in his stomach, Payne was confident that he would’ve vomited; the strong stench of urine that engulfed him pretty much guaranteed that. But as it was, Payne was only forced to deal with dehydration, severe hunger pains, and intermittent episodes of dry heaves.
“Now I know what Gandhi must’ve felt like,” he croaked, his throat burning from the act of speaking. Yet it didn’t matter to Payne. He would continue to speak all night if he had to. It was the best way to stay in touch with reality. “Gandhi probably didn’t smell like piss, though.”
Payne leaned his head against the box, a position he had been in all day, when his right hamstring started to cramp again. He hastily tried stretching, doing anything to prevent the muscle contractions from striking, but the shackles on the floor made it impossible to move. He would be forced to ride out the wave of agony until the spasm passed.