Code Shield by Eric Alagan

on the floor other than a large throw rug. Like the living room, the bedroom walls were also white. Behind the door was a small radiator, painted in white gloss. Next to the radiator, a door led into another bathroom, lit by a yellow light that hugged the ceiling.
    â€œAll of you remove your clothes,” ordered Donovich, his deep voice startling the women.
    â€œWhere is our luggage?” pleaded Annette.
    â€œRemove your clothes now,” Donovich raised his voice, “wear these.”
    He tossed a bundle of pyjamas and walked off. Kashin stood at the doorway, a leer on his face.
    Annette ran up to Kashin and hugged him. “Baby, what is going on? Do I have to as well?” She turned not with a little disdain towards the other women, trying to distance herself from them.
    Before Kashin could reply, Donovich brushed past them with a growl, “Yes, you too.”
    Annette turned with pleading eyes towards Kashin. He smiled, pushed her gently away and back-stepped, “I need a drink. You do as the big man says.”
    Donovich had brought a plastic bucket of water. He pointed to the three women,
    â€œRemove all your clothes here. Into the bathroom one by one, remove the condoms, wash and place in the bucket. After you come out, you wear your pyjamas here.”
    He growled at Ying, “You first.”
    The Chinese national stood facing him. She loosened her clothes and let them slip to her ankles. Then, she removed her bra, pulled down her panties and stood upright, as though daring Donovich to gawk at her. Then slowly and deliberately, without taking her eyes off Donovich’s she stepped into the bathroom.
    Annette watched in horror with her jaws dropped open. She covered her mouth with both hands and sobbed.
    One of the Filipinas protested, “You promised us jobs, not to be humiliated like this –” The other Filipina clung to her friend’s hand.
    â€œSomebody has to pay for your airfare, food and lodging until you start to earn your keep. There are also agents’ fees.” Donovich’s voice rasped.
    â€œThat’s why we agreed to carry your filthy drugs for you, to pay for all the costs. Why must we strip like this?” The Filipina pulled her arm away as her friend tried to restrain her. She pushed her chin out defiantly at the big Russian.
    Kashin had re-joined them in the room and handed Donovich a tall glass of vodka. The glass in the younger man’s hand was already half-empty. “Oh, a feisty one this, should be fun tonight.”
    â€œCome near me and I’ll scratch your eyes off,” screamed the Filipina. Her friend continued to whimper and hide behind her.
    Annette had squeezed into a corner on the floor, between a bed and wall, her knees drawn to her chest, her body breaking into shivers.
    Donovich flung several digital photographs at the Filipina, pictures of her family taken by Karpov when he had visited the provinces in Philippines.
    â€œYou’ll do as you’re told or people close to you, your two daughters will suffer,” Donovich’s voice gravelly and measured.
    The Filipina hesitated, shocked, then squatted slowly on the floor and gathered the prints. Recognising her family, she hugged the pictures to her bosom and looked up into Donovich’s eyes, the fight bleeding out of her as the seconds ticked away. Her friend joined her on the floor.
    Donovich slapped a small stack of photographs on the second woman’s head. She flinched with a small cry and grabbed the scattered pictures of her parents and young sons, reverentially, to her chest.
    Just then the toilet flushed and the Chinese woman stepped out, naked, her manner truculent. She moved calmly to the bed where a pile of pyjamas lay crumpled.
    â€œNo you don’t,” Donovich snatched the clothes away. “Not yet.”
    Kashin went into the bathroom and came out with a smile, “Ten full sausages. I wonder where the other hundred forty could