Thread: Transporting Taylor (Dere and skittish_butterfly)

For the uninitiated the city of Mumbai is a like a huge living thing, a singular teeming morass. Martin knew had a culture shock in his favour when it came to taking Taylor. She and her people had already screwed up enough to make his job all the more easier. He was right at home in this seething metropolis and stalked this prey like a tiger. During the long slow crawl out of town he kept a close watch on his prey. A near-invisible series of motorcycle police were able to tail them easily through the mess of traffic, and radio back to him. Certain portions of the Mumbai Police were more than malleable when the right amount of traffic was involved. He knew Taylor's plan well enough to have prepared an ambush in advance, courtesy of this crooked cops - it would make the snatch all the more cleaner and easier than a bloody shootout or grab-and-run. The limo and its occupants were driving blithely right toward it. Once outside the more concrete and modern part of they city they entered the slum belt. The limo lost its gloss as dust and trash clung to the now filthy sides. Martin was tailing more closely now, with a clear view of the target and more open roads making it that much easier. He was far enough back not to alert suspicion, but the limo was not a hard thing to follow in the Mumbai slums. Even in the distance he could see her golden hair flashing as she stuck her head out the window. It shone like her innocence and obliviousness, a single bright spark of light in a mass of brown mud and red dust. When the limo pulled into the garage he could still see her through the window, her pretty face knotted with concern at the sight of beggars. As they rolled off he made the final call ahead to the boys at the checkpoint. Armed police barricades weren't uncommon on the edges of Mumbai these days, and this one seemed to be no different. Six armed police surrounded the vehicle, while another twelve remained out of sight in a nearby tent. As the limo slowed to the halt, the men on patrol discreetly surrounded it, idly fingering the SMGs they had at their sides. One came around to the driver and engaged in a conversation at first casual, then increasingly heated. After the driver had handed over his license the police ordered him out, and started to question him loudly and aggressively. Another was around on Taylor's side, and he approached her slowly as she addressed him. He didn't speak a word of English, but gazed back at her lustfully and with a sleazy smile. As his eyes flickered around to meet the gaze of his comrades, he nodded tersely. Things then seemed to happen very quickly. The policeman interrogating the driver began to suddenly and viciously beat him, first with his fists then with his baton, all the while yelling loudly. Two of his comrades quickly joined in, kicking the cringing boy like a stray dog. Antonio paused for a moment, then threw open the door and tried to get over to calm the situation. But no sooner had he got his head out of the limo, a baton was smashed directly into it, smashing his nose and knocking him out. His bulky form toppled out of the car into the dust. As Taylor turned around to see what was going on, the cop nearest her grabbed a clump of her hair and slapped very hard around the head. She was trapped half inhalf out of the window and unable to defend herself. As she reeled from his blows he grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing the firm round mound painfully hard through her t-shirt. He then let her hair go and opened the door, leaving a dazed Taylor hanging off it, her stunning long legs spilling out the limo door. Rock was completely stunned, but managed to get his thoughts together to think of Taylor's safety. He saw her struggling with the cop by the door, and gabbed her around the waist to try and pull her back into the limo. With his back turned to the open door he had no idea of the cop behind him until it was too late. He felt the cold steel of a revolver's muzzle at the side of his head, then there was nothing. The cop pulled the trigger and blew Rock's brains across the inside of the rear window. Taylor heard the shot like a thunderclap behind her, then two more sounded out. One finished off the comatose Antonio, the other went between the eyes of the young driver as his begged for his life, passing through the photo of his newborn son that he was holding up. Time seemed to have slowed down to a crawl, with second passing like centuries. Firm, sinewy hands seized her slender wrists as she lay reeling, and slapped on a tight pair of handcuffs. Another cop threw a black sack over her head and drew it tight at the neck. Together they frogmarched the stunned Taylor down the road. Martin drew up just behind the limo, smiling crookedly to himself at the sight of Taylor being half-walked, half-dragged over by the cops. They opened the back door of the SUV and threw her him, swearing in Hindi. He passed over a grey metal briefcase, and one of them popped it open to reveal a hefty pile of American dollars, easily six figures' worth. With a curt nod of approval he closed it again and both men returned urgently to the checkpoint. With a roar of dust and engine Martin spun the SUV in a U-turn and off onto another slum road. He was heading to a farm nearly an hour away, which would be the first stop in Taylor's 'processing'. How's the holiday going, sweetheart? he said in his clipped English accent, a definite sneer edging the words. There was a beep as a timer on the dash reached zero, then the sudden boom of a colossal explosion just a few hundred meters behind. The money has been laced with a latent explosive, active only after the case was opened and active element sparked. It devastated the entire checkpoint and all of the police there, and would be conveniently blamed on terrorists. He laughed, loud and mirthlessly, as they drove off.