Transporter Chapter 5 - Not in Kansas anymore Dorothy

Transporter Chapter 5 - Not in Kansas anymore Dorothy

Several weeks have gone by since the trip with Billy, I had given a lot of thought and figured I could do what was required, after all, I had no issue transporting them, so why should snatching be any different. Jail time would be the same either way if I got caught and maybe I would make enough green to earn myself an early retirement.

So, after doing a drop off in rural Iowa, labour this time, farmhands working off their transit cost to the cartel. I decided to spend a week in Kansas City. The first weekend was scoping out a few locations, alternative lifestyle clubs of which there were a few and usually nicely out of the way. Finding a Goth Rock type venue, I spent a few hours enjoying the music, whilst checking out the club’s layout and security or lack of. Really could not have picked a better venue.

The next few nights, I hit more clubs and a few swingers and gay clubs looking for other opportunities, and there were many, out of the way backstreet clubs, dark and poorly lit and nearly all with rough car parking that had few or no security cameras. The city had a reputation for crime, and I could see why.

Returning on the Friday to the alternative music venue, I started checking out the clientele and security, usually nondescript uniform of jeans and black jacket with security written on it. Hell, I had one back at home, but I reckon I can get one easy enough locally.

The place was packed and a lot of the girls looked to be college age, getting their first taste of rebellion and drink in, the club 21 and over, and you could be ID’d when you came in but I bet there were a few 18-year-olds in the place. I watched sipping my coke and ice, looking for the one that fit my target, alone or a loner, someone that did not stay with their friends, maybe drank too much. There were a few that fit the bill, and some were drunk before the club even got busy.

Next day, I found a store selling the jacket I wanted, checked my stash of flunitrazepam (Used to keep some transported quiet, not all went to their new homes quietly).

I stuck another light jacket on over the security jacket and hit the club about 10 pm bought some water bottles, one for me and another I spiked in the toilets with a needle, so the bottle cap was not removed. I have a few cables in my pocket in case I got the chance to spike a drink as well. And then I waited and watched, keeping to the shadowed part of the room where a lot of the kids like to hang out as well, fortunately.

Spotting one of the girls I had noticed the other weekend, I watched and waited; she was drinker and her friends left her often to go dance. She was perfect, young, pretty and slim, just what I reckon the boss would like. I waited for her friends to go dance and then slipping into my security jacket; I approached her table, picked up some empties leaning over her own drink as I did so, pouring the colourless liquid flunitrazepam derivative into her glass. I think she was too far gone to have noticed if I had done it in front of her but the open jacked hid my hand from her anyway.

Taking the empties over to the bar and leaving there, just another helpful security guy, I was betting that they had a high turnaround and used outside security anyway, so it was unlikely that it would be noticed that I not one of their guys.

I returned to my shadowy corner donning my normal jacket again, I did not want to risk someone who actually knew who was on noticing me. I watched my target, seeing her down the spiked drink and wander to the bar to get another. She would start feeling the effects soon and with what she had already drunk, she would be asleep soon.

She was definitely the worse for wear, and I saw her stumbling into a few people and get pushed away. Discarding my over jacket and now looking like any other member of security, I went over to the girl.

“Excuse me, miss, but you look like you need some air and water, “I said getting her attention. A few people noticed us, but this was standard fare, and no one took too much notice.

Her friends were back at the seat but they were not in eye-line of where we were so I figured they could not see us. I led her out to the back corridor, the one with the Johns (toilets) I saw her open the bottle and take a swig then a gulp of the water. I guessed by now her head would be as fuzzy as hell. Passing another security guy and said she just needs some air, I guess; don’t want her spewing on the floor. He just nodded and carried on with whatever his task was. I have to admit, that made me sweat a little. If the guy had known all the security that was on tonight, it could have been awkward to say the least.

I walked her out the back door and stood talking quietly to her while she drank water and breathed heavily. She may well throw up I realised. She leaned forward to upchuck and fell down into my waiting arm, finally passing out. A quick look about to see if anyone was watching or taking note, and though there were some voices off in the dark, the smell of grass told me they were otherwise occupied, probably behind a truck that was parked out the back.

Wrapping my jacket about her, I picked her up and carried her to my van, passing by a couple, but I just ballsed it out and said she had too much, and I was taking her home. I doubt they even heard me too wrapped up in their own world.

I put her in the back of the van, closing the door behind me so as not to be seen. I tie-wrapped her wrists to a hook on the floor and her feet to another. Would do, for now, I could give her some sedatives later for the journey to the ranch. I removed her shoes, earrings, necklace and a lanyard I found about her neck. This gave her name as Amber.

Exiting through the side door, checking no one was watching, that no one had followed or seen anything suspicious, good, I enter the drivers side and pulled away.

My first stop was the bridge a few miles from the club, the Heart of Kansas Bridge, giving her a sedative that would keep her asleep for hours I jogged up the bridge and left her things on the ground, stuffing the jewellery and lanyard into a boot. Hopefully, this would look like just another college kid who could not take the strain and had jumped from the bridge into the Kansas river. This was my cover plan, make sure the clubs were by large bodies of water, leave some evidence that would lead the LEO’s thinking the victim had suicided.

Walking back to the van, I made a call and was sent GPS coordinates for the closest drop off location. It was about 100 miles away located on the Kickapoo reservation; I could be there in 3 hours I guessed. Driving for an hour, I pulled into a side track and check on the package. She was coming round now; I did not want to dope her up more, So I fitted a gag, then secured her to the top rail, so she was held up by her arms, her legs bound so she would not be able to stand. Happy that she would not be able to cause an issue by banging about or shouting I set off to the drop off point again.

I arrived at about 4 am and was greeted by a guard, a big pony-tailed Native; he eyeballed me, but I had the passphrase for the day and was let past and given directions.

I pulled up and jumped in the back; the girl was awake now, sobered up I bet too, I grabbed my knife and a collar from the box on the back door; I showed her my knife and shook my head in warning. I slipped the collar about her neck and after unhooking her arms, used another tie wrap to bind her wrists to the collar. I then set about removing her clothes. This was normal, all product was delivered naked so they could be assessed and valued, I guessed.

Cutting the ties on her legs I pulled her out of the van,

“Now pretty, don’t be doing anything stupid, you’re a100 miles from civilisation and these boys might take it personally if you try running on them,” I hoped she go the warning. Naked and scared did not always make for smart, and anyway she would not get far if she ran, not bound up like that.

I led her through a door; the guard opened up for me, kind of him, I thought.

“First room on the right, friend,” he said.

I went in, entered without knocking, the door was ajar figured it would be ok, The room was evidently an office, another large Native American sporting a knife on his belt that gave me knife envy and woman, the woman was evidently in charge as she was seated behind the desk.

She stood as I entered, did not say a word, and checked the girl out, I got a good look at her too now I was in a well-lit room; I had picked well, dark-haired (dyed) cuffs definitely did not match the curtains, looks like we had a redhead, skin pale small but firm breasts that were as pale as alabaster with nipples that barely showed they were so pale. Honestly, she looked like a walking corpse she was that pale-skinned.

The woman laughed, “Well shit, this is truly a pale skin,” laughing again at her own joke.

“You’re Alex, good to meet you, Carlos sent me a message saying you were OK and transporter, maybe we can do business as well in the future, yes?” she asked.

“Yes, mam,” I replied.

“Alex, you can call me Jenny, now let's talk about this girl,” she said.

She checked the girl over even checking to see if she was a virgin, pity but no (that would have earned me a double bonus at least).

Going back to her seat, she nodded at what I will call her henchman, Mr big knife, and he pulled the girl away, she was screaming now, but the ball gags were the type with the dildo that goes in your mouth, so not a lot of noise was coming out of her no matter how much she wailed.

Jenny handed over 3 envelopes, a fat one and two thinner ones, I was a little confused and I guessed she read that on my face.

“That’s your finder’s fee, a bonus for bringing in a higher end product and a little extra for a real redhead. You have done good with this one, bring me more and there’s more of these,” she said, pushing the packet over the table.

Picking up the packets I head out the back to the van and the long drive back to Kansas City. I figured I might as well scope out a few other locations while I was there. Opening the packets back in my motel room, I emptied out and counted the fat packet had 20K in it the two thinner stacks were 10k each 40-mother fucking grand. Well hell, this was definitely something I was going to do again.

And this became the pattern, I would spend the odd weekend in cities finding alternative lifestyle clubs and scope out the locations for possible procurement options.

It was often as easy as donning a security jacket, spiking a drink, in a few cases, just escorting a drunk partygoer out to throw up and get a taxi.

I even pretended to be an Uber driver whose pick up had vanished and offering my services to unsuspecting revellers.