Ms Patriot: The Heroine Trade (Chapter 2) (Patreon)

Chapter 2

London, England, pre-dawn…

“Be wary!” Vanity shouted. “They’re splitting up!”

Britannia glanced over at the raven-maned vampire as she spun around to deliver a stiletto-heeled kick to a human trafficker’s chest, sending him flying ten meters back to slam against a wall. The vampire’s eyes glowed red in the throes of battle as she snapped Crimson, her blood whip, all around.

“No one escapes HM6!” Scream Queen said.

The gorgeous blonde in red mask, bodysuit, and ankle boots spread her legs, leaned forward, and bowed her back as she opened her mouth and… Screamed. That sent a sonic blast into the largest group of sex slavers, blasting them apart. Many dropped to the floor unconscious.

Britannia did her part, sucking in a deep breath, and then sending a powerful torrent of air to knock another three men down, their clothes and hair covered in frost. It was looking good for the heroines. There were two dozen kidnapped young women in that riverside warehouse, all about to be crated and shipped to men and brothels around the world. The four HM6 heroines were mopping the floor with the twenty slavers.

“Are we having fun yet, boys?” Opal taunted.

The black-haired, blue-eyed nineteen year old was there as backup. Their healer, but mostly to counter any dark magic or demonic curses the human traffickers might throw at them.

“Opal, start releasing the captives,” Britannia shouted, then charged three large slavers.

Vanity lifted up in the air, hovering and snapping her whip at bad men. Britannia flew off the floor like a beast, plowing into Ivan Chekov and the seven men surrounding him. The leader of that gang of human traffickers went down with his men, bowled over by the hot, busty blonde heroine. She continued onward past them to punch, kick, and knee five others.

“More than half of them are down,” Britannia cried. “Let’s finish them off.”

Britannia, Scream Queen, and Vanity herded the remaining slavers toward a corner with no doors or windows. Okay, it was mostly Vanity’s magic whip of blood that they fell back from. It was a terrifying thing. The black and red latex sheathed vampire laughed, having a grand time of it. Britannia was grinning, loving it when the good guys put the fear of God into the bad guys.

“No!” Opal screamed. “Stay away… Help!”

Britannia spun around just as Chekov wrapped Opal up in his arms, one hand going over her mouth to stop any magic spells. Then his henchman, Boris Volkov, jabbed an autoinjector into the struggling healer’s neck. An astonished look spread across her lovely face, her body tensed up, and then she went completely limp. Her eyes rolled up and Britannia knew her friend was out cold. Captured by those evil Russian human traffickers.

“They got Opal!”

Vanity and Scream Queen whirled around to stare incredulously as well. Britannia silently cursed herself for believing Chekov, of all people, was safely down and out.

“Don’t even think about it, Chekov!” Britannia shouted. “You all are going to jail tonight.”

“I don’t think so, my pretties,” Chekov said, his accent thick, voice deep and slow. “All of this was to lure you in, Britannia. Put them down!”

“It’s a trap!” she cried.

Scream Queen blasted Chekov and his men with a “beam” of sound that she swept across them. Each one was sent flying back against the wall, poor Opal still in Chekov’s arms.

“Don’t hurt Opal,” Britannia said. “Let’s just go in and beat…”

The Russians they’d forgotten about behind them tackled all three of them from behind. Just dog-piled them. But Britannia and Vanity had super strength, so quickly threw them off. Scream Queen was hand-gag, so couldn’t use her Powers. Britannia grunted when one of the men thrust an autoinjector into Scream Queen’s neck, and the beautiful nineteen year old succumbed quickly.

“They’ve drugged Scream Queen into unconsciousness, Vanity! It’s just us now.”

“We’re more than enough to take down this rabble,” Vanity sneered. She snapped Crimson three times, putting three Russian slavers down. Britannia hoped they weren’t dead. “I’ll take care of these little boys if you can handle Chekov and his henchmen.”

“Consider it done,” the busty blonde said. She turned baleful blue eyes on the leader of the slavers. Chekov had been a thorn in hers, and His Majesty’s 6, side for far too long. His human trafficking career ended that night.

“Long live the King!” Britannia cried, and charged the Russians.

Vanity pulled her black cloak, with the red lining, around her and suddenly she looked like Chekov. The slavers all cried out and froze. Britannia used that distraction to fly up and plow into the group’s flank. Surprised as they were, a few still managed to strike back, connecting with several powerful punches to her flanks. She almost made it all the way to Chekov, but three especially large men blocked her.

Turning straight up, her knee connected with the middle slaver’s chin, sending him reeling away. She did a tight, super fast loop to fly back in feet first. Spreading her legs wide, Britannia slammed stiletto heels into both of the other two men’s breastbones. They both dropped to writhe on the floor in agony.

“Ouchy. Bet that hurt,” she said, landing five feet before Chekov, catching his eyes, and wagging her brows. “Am I a naughty girl, or what?”

“You are not as funny as you think, Britannia,” Chekov snarled, eyes narrowing as he flung Opal’s limp body away. “But you’ll make many funny sounds while I’m putting a baby in your belly.”

She pretended to not notice the other slavers moving to encircle her. Britannia wanted them all as close as possible before she unleashed hell.

“As my mum used to say, you dream in Technicolor.”

“I don’t know what that even means,” he sneered.

“Neither do I, but it made her happy whenever she had a chance to say it.”

They inched closer and closer. She struggled to keep the smile off her face. Those evil Russians were going to be so surprised.

“Your reign of terror is over, Chekov,” Britannia continued to lure them in closer. “Make it easier on yourself and surrender without any further fight. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to — ”

“What are you — ” Vanity cried, and was cut off.

Britannia slanted a look back to find the gorgeous vampire writhing in the arms of a slaver, who had one hand over her mouth. Then she noticed the silver chains wrapped around the undead beauty. Silver nullified her Powers, meaning…

“No!” Britannia cried, starting to lift off the floor to go to her friend’s aid as she thrust one arm towards them and started the magic spell for an energy beam.

Chekov leapt onto her back, one hand slapping over her mouth, thus stopping her spell. Then other men grabbed her arms, her legs, forcing her back to the floor. Suddenly, she found herself pressed face down against the concrete floor, brutal knees holding her down all over. The men put their full weight on those knees.

Not enough to keep me down, she thought, anger rising. So embarrassing how they caught her by surprised and got that momentary advantage. Now to turn the tables and…

Chekov pressed an autoinjector to her neck. The heroine smiled under that hand-gag. The needle couldn’t penetrate her skin. But they had a backup plan, so another slaver rushed up and gave him a chloroform soaked cloth, that he pressed over her mouth and nose. She felt that drug which seemed to go straight up into her head.

“Mmmmgh,” she moaned, the only sound she found herself able to make.

Darkness began rushing in from all sides. Chekov released her, only for someone else to force a gag between her teeth, buckling it tight around her head. Then Chekov leaned in, as her eyes fluttered, and whispered in her ear.

“Gotcha, Britannia,” he sneered. “We’re going to make a fortune selling you on the Dark Web.”

And then nothing.