Becca XXX - Spring Tide Ch. 03

"People think that men will fuck anything or anyone," he said. "That wasn't the case. Katya's right - this place heals you."

"I can see how," I said, sympathetically. "Good company and good surf are all that's required."

"See, I knew you guys got it. I knew as soon as we saw you surfing here yesterday," he replied.

"Surfing is the cure - right?" said Nat, repeating something Reef had said the night before.

He nodded.

"Do you have many people in your program?" I asked. "I guess it's a full-time job for you."

"It varies. Most of the people I help are from support groups which I attend once a week. I tell them about this place and, when they're ready, some of them come here to reconnect with their body and emotions. I teach them about self nurture and self worth, but at the end of the day it's down to them to forgive themselves and live without the guilt. It simply was not their fault."

"I agree entirely," I said, finishing my breakfast and leaning forwards on the table. "Where is the support group?"

"Penzance," she replied. "There are many problems in Penzance with drugs and sexual violence related to drug addiction. I think the term is 'Crack-whores'. They are easy targets for bad men and sadly many of those men are from my own mother Russia."

Nat gave me an imperceptible kick under the table. It was the first mention of Russian men and they sounded like they might be part of Valentin's operation. Drugs, whores and violent Russians were exactly what we were looking for.

"I'm sure it's not just Russians," I said, trying to steer the conversation where we wanted it.

"Penzance is full of them," she said it as though it left a bad taste in her mouth. "There is a gangster who practically runs anything illegal in that town. Young girls who need a fix get regularly abused to make money for drugs. Many end up at the support groups after realising how dangerous these men are."

"Don't the police do anything?" quizzed Nat.

"Policia? Ha," she scoffed. "They are as bad as the criminals. Valentin has them in his pocket."

There it was.

His name had been confirmed to us without any prompting. This was a major breakthrough with very little effort. I couldn't believe our luck that our intel appeared to be spot on.

"Valentin?" I asked.

"Yes. He's a bad man. I have heard such terrible stories, but he's untouchable."

"How come?"

"No one knows where to find him for a start. He hides in the shadows, but reaps the rewards. His minions draw the girls in. They get them addicted to drugs and then they need to come back for more abuse to fuel their habit. It's sickening."

"I think most towns have a local spot like that. Bars, chip shops, youth centres, anywhere that vulnerable people can be manipulated," I was searching for a location.

"It's a seaside town Becca. Foster-Bolitho Gardens is the place they hang out. It's a no-go area after dark. The men entice the girls in with free booze and weed and then coerce them into the toilet block. I believe you call it a gloryhole in this country, but there is nothing glorious about it for these young women."

I almost spat my coffee out as I thought back to Lexa's briefing. She'd told us about the initials GH and I had jokingly said it stood for Gloryhole. The context may have been different, but at least it was a starting point.

"Gloryhole is the right word," I confirmed. "Sick fuckers."

"Someone needs to put a stop to such things. It's the only way to prevent these girls going into a downward spiral," she sighed sadly. "Sometimes all you need is a vigilante with a good heart to burn these fuckers to the ground."

An image of the burning prison I'd escaped from flashed into my head for a split second, but I batted it away. Now wasn't the time to reminisce about such things.

"I find that karma catches up with people like that eventually," I replied. "Things never last forever."

"I hope you're right," she replied. "Would you like more food or coffee?"

"We're good thank you," said Nat.

"What are your plans for today?" asked Grom, seeing an opportunity to change the subject. "You definitely won't be surfing in these conditions."

"We know," I agreed. "We could do with a day off anyway. We have some errands to run."

"What sort of errands? Maybe we could help," said Katya.

"Natalie's got some post to send and we could do with some provisions. We were going to drive over to Penzance, but maybe not after what you've told us."

"It's fine in the day, just avoid certain places at night. Foster-Bolitho Gardens is a patch of grass and shrubs on the sea front at the bottom of Western Promenade Road. It's ok in the daytime, but don't go there at night."

I understood her warning, but we would be doing the opposite. Now that we had a good lead there was no time to lose. Penzance was about twenty minutes drive away and we had a lot to do. We thanked Katya for breakfast and headed back out into the rain, deep in thought. Once we were back in the van, we broke our silence and started to come up with a plan.

"It looks like we've struck gold here," said Natalie. "Let's get over to Penzance and check out this gloryhole."

"I told you that's what GH stood for," I laughed.

"I think that's just a coincidence," she replied. "At least we have somewhere to start now."

"Agreed. We can carry out a recce in daylight hours and then go back tonight and check it out. You never know our luck, maybe Victor and his boys will show up for a blow job."

"I doubt it, but we may be able to follow one of Valentin's men and find him that way."

As I said that the phone buzzed in my pocket. It was on silent as usual, but I knew who it was going to be. I took it out of my pocket and answered the withheld number, clicking it straight to speaker phone so Nat could listen in.

"Hi, this is Becca," I said politely.

"Becca. It's Lexa. How are you both this morning?"

"Pretty wet," I replied giving it a double meaning.

"There's no change there then, you dirty girl," she laughed.

"I'm talking about the weather," I protested. "It's pissing it down here."

"I'm sure that's not the only thing that's wet," she was in a very playful mood this morning, but that soon changed. "Sitrep," she spat.

She meant Situation Report.

"We're about to check out a potential lead in Penzance," I replied. "We're heading there now."

"What? I thought you went there yesterday?" she sounded annoyed.

"We went to Bude and checked out GCHQ first," I replied. "We needed to get eyes on the potential target and try and suss things out."

"And?"

"The place looks impregnable without the help of an inside man. Can I suggest they redo the background checks on everyone who works there. They may have a Russian sleeper or a mole or someone they can blackmail or bribe to gain access."

"They're already working on it, but we now have another set of initials which have thrown a spanner into the works."

"Really? What are they?"

"FA," she replied.

"FA? That usually stands for 'Fuck All,'" I laughed.

"Funny you should say that because that's what we've found - literally fuck all with those initials as a target. We're still searching."

"What if you combine them with GH? Maybe it's an anagram or all four letters stand for something else," said Nat.

"Our system is running algorithms for all those possibilities and combinations, but we've still got nothing. Stick to the original plan and get your asses to Penzance. What's the lead?" asked Lexa.

I explained everything we knew so far and what we'd been up to and she was soon up to speed with our progress.

"Maybe you should spend less time surfing and more time working," she suggested. "Be careful and report in when you have more."

"Yes Ma'am," we said in unison, before hanging up.

"GH and FA?" said Nat. "What the fuck could it mean?"

"I don't know. It doesn't spell a word so if it is an anagram there must be other letters we don't know about yet. Let's hope the algorithm comes up with some possibilities. Come on, I'll drive. Let's get to Penzance."

****

The storm wasn't letting up as we got to Penzance. If anything, it had gotten worse. The rain battered the windscreen with the wipers working overtime to keep it clear. We drove in a figure-eight to make sure we weren't being following and then headed straight for the sea front, following the sat nav to the area Katya had told us about.

The coast road headed north east with the sea to our right. About half way along it, we spotted Foster-Bolitho Gardens and I slowed down for a closer look. The gardens were a strip of green land about eight-hundred metres long and twenty metres wide, separating the road from the beach. There were shrubs and trees planted, tarmac paths and plenty of lawn space including a bowling green at the northern end.

I pulled the van into a parking space at the end looking out to sea, but I left the engine running. The gardens were to our right and the public toilet block that Katya had mentioned was to our left separated by a narrow gangway which led to the beach.

"This looks like the place," said Nat, scanning the area and taking in the finer details. "I'm sure it looks a lot more inviting when the sun is shining."

"I hope so," I laughed. "The dull light is really not helping."

The weather was keeping everyone indoors apart from a few people sitting in their cars and staring out to sea like we were doing. The place was clean with very little litter on the streets. It was a typical seaside holiday destination and, despite the weather, it was hard to see how this was the seedy drug den that Lexa and Katya had described. There was a children's play area and a skate park past the toilet block, but they were deserted.

"I'm sure it changes after dark," said Nat. "According to Katya, the Russian drug dealers and gang bangers come out to play."

"Sounds like our sort of party," I giggled. "Let's go and check out the toilets and see if it really does have a gloryhole."

I switched off the engine and prepared myself for the downpour. The toilet block was a short dash through a low stone wall to a single-story building with the men's entrance on the front and the women's to the rear. We pulled our hoodies up and sprinted to get there, staying reasonably dry as we burst through the door.

As expected, there was no one in there so we started to push the cubicle doors open to find the gloryhole. The first three cubicles looked normal with the usual graffiti adorning the backs of the doors. We made our way down the line until we got to the disabled toilet at the end. I pushed the door open and found what we were looking for. This cubicle was larger than the others to allow for wheelchair access and it backed up to the dividing wall between the male and female toilets.

There were three large holes cut through the single-ply wooden wall, at waist height. Each hole was about ten inches in diameter and had duct tape stuck around the edges to smooth them off. The last thing these guys wanted was a splinter in their dick.

"This is a classy place," giggled Nat, bending down and peering through the hole. "I can see through to the men's toilet, but it's empty for now."

"It won't be later, I'm sure. This is definitely the right place."

I took a good look around and imagined what went on in here. I'd been in a glory hole before, but it was arranged on a stage at Kingsley Manor. This place was the real deal and it looked well used. There was enough room for three girls working a hole each or two girls sharing the three. I looked higher up for more holes, but found nothing. There was no way for either party to know who was on the other side and that's what added to the thrill of the experience.

The opposite wall had a stainless-steel toilet roll dispenser on it and I noticed it was loose. With a quick pull upwards, I managed to lift the dispenser off the wall to reveal another hole underneath it. The hole was blocked by the dispenser on the other side, but removing that would allow another cock to be pushed through. I turned around and noticed it was perfectly in line with one of the holes leading into the men's toilet and I realised what it was for.

"Looks like they've thought of everything," I laughed, bending over and positioning my pussy against one of the holes and bending at the waist so that my face was level with the opposite hole. "You can get spit roasted here."

I mimed the movement making Natalie giggle like a school girl.

"I guess it's going to be a fun night," she tittered. "Come on, I've seen enough."

We left the toilets and moved back out into the rain. Instead of going back to the van, we ducked into the men's toilets and walked to the dividing wall at the end. It was a mirror image of the lady's toilet with the disabled cubicle at the end. The same three holes were clearly visible looking through into where we'd just been. There was the acrid smell of piss that men's toilets always have and there was graffiti all over the walls and mirrors.

The gloryholes had rude words like 'cunt' and 'slut' written on them and there were phone numbers for people looking for a good time. It was a pervert's paradise and the whole place felt dirty and seedy. Sticking your cock through a hole in a toilet wall and having it sucked or fucked appealed to men with a certain mindset. I just hoped we found one of the men we were looking for.

"It fucking stinks in here," Nat screwed up her face. "Let's get out of here."

We left the toilet block and ran back to the van to get out of the rain.

"We have our target building," I said. "Now we need to check the escape routes and come up with a plan of action to get ourselves in the middle of it all."

Nat got her iPad out of the glove box and brought up google satellite images. The flashing blue dot showed where we were and showed the roads and pathways adjacent to us. The coast road and promenade ran parallel to the sea in both directions and there was a petrol station and supermarket opposite the block. There was also a road running north into a housing estate and a small park and playing fields surrounded by trees.

"There're plenty of routes in and out if we need to lose a tail," Natalie pointed out. "I suggest we park the van out of sight on one of the side streets and then walk a big loop around to come in from the north east," she pointed to areas on the map to show where she meant.

"Sounds like a good idea," I replied. "If we get split up for any reason, the van is our primary rendezvous point, but we'll need a secondary RV, in case the van is compromised."

"There's a railway station past the harbour," she zoomed in on the map. "We'd just need to follow the promenade until we hit it."

"That'll be our emergency RV," I confirmed. "We have no idea what's going to happen tonight and we need to be ready for anything."

"Plan for the worse and hope for the best," she nodded. "I think we should stash a weapon each at the station just in case."

"And a change of clothes," I added. "There should be storage lockers we can use. We can hide the key somewhere so we both have access to it."

"We should buy a couple of flexi-tickets for the train while we're there too. That way we can just jump on the first train out of here if the shit hits the fan."

The detail and precautions we were taking sounded over-kill, but it was better to have these things and not need them, than the other way around. If we had a gang of angry Russians after us, we needed to leave nothing to chance. This was basic trade-craft and it's what kept people like us alive.

"Looks like we have our extraction sorted out," said Nat, looking around to make sure no one was watching us.

Even if they were, we weren't doing anything suspicious. On a rainy day in England, sitting on the seafront staring out to sea was never unusual.

"OK. Next, we need a way in," said Natalie. "From what Katya told us, this place will be crawling with drug pushers and Russian perverts with the odd crack-whore thrown in for good measure. We need to stand out from the crowd and make whoever's in charge pick us for the gloryhole."

"That won't be a problem," I laughed. "I have a plan for that, but we'll need to go shopping first."

"Ok, we can do that while we're here," said Nat. "That just leaves the execution of the mission itself."

"Our prime objective is getting to Valentin and then using him to get to Victor," I pointed out. "I doubt that he's going to turn up here and show his face in public, but you never know."

"There are a lot of unknowns," said Nat. "I guess we'll try and follow his guys and hope they lead us back to their boss."

"What about placing trackers on them?" I suggested. "One of them might finish up back with Valentin eventually."

"We could, but it's a risk. We don't know how aware these guys are. They may do a bug sweep before they go to Valentin. A guy like him hasn't gone this long without capture without being cautious. If they find our tracker, he might go to ground," said Nat.

"I guess we'll have to follow them straight after the session then," I shrugged. "Lexa and Arrow are both searching for possible locations of Valentin as well. If this fails, we'll have to visit each of his whore houses until we find a different way in."

"It's all we can do at the moment," Nat agreed. "Now, I'm feeling hungry so let's go and get some lunch."

"You're always thinking about your stomach," I giggled, starting the van and putting my seat belt on.

"Well, it's better than thinking about your pussy like you do, you slag," she laughed.

I pulled back onto the road and followed it down towards the harbour. I was about to turn off when Natalie shouted at me to stop.

"Wait. Stop here," she cried, slamming her hand on the dashboard like a driving instructor testing the student's emergency breaking.

I hit the breaks and came to a stop next to the kerb.

"What is it?" I asked, thinking she'd seen something important.

"There's a post box," she smiled. "I need to post my dirty panties off to my clients."

"For fucks' sake, you filthy slut, I thought we were being followed or something. Your dirty hobby will be the death of me."

She just laughed and moved into the back of the van to retrieve the two jiffy bags which contained her used knickers. She opened the sliding door and ran over to the post box to send them on their way and then came skipping back with a huge grin on her face.

"Three more happy customers," she smirked. "I'm sure my panties will be even more stained by the time they've finished with them. Let's go and get some lunch."

****

Eating fish and chips on the sea front out of their paper bags was a traditional English pastime. I remembered doing this as a kid, enjoying the smell of fried food slathered in salt and vinegar and the excitement of eating them on the beach. There was nothing more British. The rain had finally stopped and we were sitting on the promenade in one of the shelters as we finished off our lunch.

"Delicious," sighed Natalie, screwing up her wrapper and throwing it in the bin next to us. "It's like being on holiday all over again."

"It certainly brings back happy memories," I agreed.

"So, what's your plan for getting us noticed tonight?" she asked, keeping things mission-based.

"Well, when I was in Manchester working undercover with drug dealers, I noticed how they operated," I began to explain. "The dealers always went for the younger generation to get them hooked on drugs early. They'd start by giving them free booze and then move on to weed, then cocaine and so on and so on until they were completely dependant. From there, they could exploit their young bodies into prostitution to pay for the habit they created. It's just like Katya explained last night. One minute the girls are loving the attention of older men giving them alcohol and the next minute they're being raped by the same men whom they trusted."