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and his shaft. She tried to scream but the tape clamped her lips tight. Muffled squeaks escaped her throat and mucus spurted from her nostrils.
    â€œHmm, this is really good,” moaned Kashin and held her to him, letting his tongue lick her ears and neck. Then he went into small spasms, relaxed and breathed heavily.
    Pushing her away abruptly, he leapt out of the bed in one spring and ducked into the toilet, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
    Ying retreated quickly and braced against the headrest. She pulled her knees to her chest and glared.
    Donovich slapped her head several times and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He pulled her head back. Her neck stretched tight and the veins pulsed with anguish.
    â€œListen to me whore, this could have been worse. Because it is I, it’s only a finger.” He jerked his head in the direction of the toilet. “If it had been that porn star, it would have been your boy’s penis.”
    Ying melted into whimpers and Donovich whispered hoarsely into her ears,
    â€œI’m going to remove the tape so we can talk. I’ll say this only once. Pull another screaming stunt or fight and I’ll have handsome Ruslan return with nine more fingers and one penis, one at a time, do you understand?” He tightened his grip on her hair, “Do you understand?”
    Ying nodded.
    Donovich waited until she opened her eyes and made eye contact with him, and only then did he slowly relax his grip. He pulled out the duct tapes with violent tugs, ripping out the fine hair on Ying’s arms. “When lover boy comes out, you go and clean yourself. Get rid of these filthy bed sheets. Then we talk.”
    Thirty minutes later Ying stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel up to her armpits. Kashin had gone downstairs for a smoke.
    â€œGood girl, now listen to papa, and I’ll say this only once,” Donovich knelt on the floor and pulled out a duffel bag from under the bed.
    â€œI have some sausages for you – some you swallow, some you insert up your pussy. You’ll like that huh…huh?”

Chapter 4
    Reginald Lee from PMO, Uncle Smiley and the two young deputies settled in their leather seats. Zain positioned himself at the front of the room and squared his notes as he waited for the beamer to warm up.
    Lowe again made his rounds among the assembled people. He bantered with the deputies and laughed at his own jokes. He conferred with Lee and spoke copiously about his uncle. Satisfied that he had marked his scent, Lowe flopped heavily in the seat nearest the wall screen. He leaned back, crossed his legs and wore a smirk. He made a show of turning to Uncle Smiley and pushed out his chin at the impassive man. When the undistinguished looking man ignored the rude acknowledgement and looked past him, Lowe shook his head slightly.
    â€œOver the last one week this man,” Zain brought up a digital picture of a tall Chinese in dark glasses, “Name, Wang Yu, business development manager of the Tuas plant, has met with two Caucasians, Ruslan Kashin and Alexis Donovich, here in Singapore.”
    â€œRussians?” asked Lee.
    â€œYes, Lee,” nodded Zain.
    Digital pictures of a handsome young man, a day old bristle on his upper lip and chin, and another of a burly middle-aged man with thinning hair, appeared on screen. They were in an outdoor market in Chinatown, the signboard, Pagoda Street, clearly captured in the background.
    â€œAll three men took great pains to double back and make circuitous routes, before finally meeting – once at the casino in Resort Worlds Singapore and a second time at the Zoological Gardens.”
    â€œWhy, did they make your people?” asked Lee.
    â€œNo, I think they were just being cautious,” replied the CNB Director. “We tailed all three men. Wang Yu didn’t lead us to any new contacts. The two Russians put up in Hotel 69 along Geylang.” Zain continued,
    â€œThis