Shattered Innocence

By Jack Kregas

Ruby was sixteen when her identical twin sister, Rose, mysteriously disappeared from a crowded restaurant strip on Queensland's Gold Coast.

Unwilling to let her sister's disappearance become another cold case, and unable to trust the system that had failed them, Ruby mounted her own chilling four year investigation hoping that it would lead her to those responsible for the disappearance of her sister.

 

Growing up in a house filled with grief, proved too difficult for Ruby who left Australia to begin a new life in the US, where she fell in love with a man who had faced a similar life-changing tragedy.

 

Together, they embarked on a crusade for justice which led them around the globe and into the dark, secret world of human trafficking where thousands of vulnerable children are abducted and sold into sexual servitude.

 

At a time when crime figures show that 30,000 Australians disappear every year, emerging crime writer, Jack Kregas, crafts with alarming accuracy the dark underbelly of this horrendous crime and follows a feisty young woman's dogged mission to save her sister from traffickers before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Kregas
• Release date: May 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223969020

Jack Kregas

Jack Kregas was born in New England in the north east of the United States. After a stint in the US Army, he was discharged in Europe and the next forty years were spent skiing and living life to the max as well as creating several successful businesses.Winters in the Alps and summers windsurfing on Maui, Jack departed Switzerland for Maui full time with his Australian wife and small daughter. After five years he moved the family to Australia and became an Australian citizen.Jack now lives in Brisbane and plays golf and tournament poker. After having published his first book in 2015, an autobiography, It's All About Me and a few others of his adventurous life, he has written another thirteen books the latest being THE VEGAS TRANSACTIONS published in July 2021 and How to lose at Texas Holdem in September 2121.

Book preview

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Non-fiction

It’s All About Me and a few others

It’s Not Only About Me

How to Lose at Texas Holdem

Still Losing at Texas Holdem

Fiction

Joey Moretti Thrillers

Mystical Glasses

Innocent Retribution

Contested Ransom

Decisive Sunset

Other Fiction

Choice Cruise Lines

Loysa’s Carabao (a children’s story)

Slick Justice

Club Cargo

The Vegas Transactions

Collections of Short Stories

Tall Tales

Tall Tales Two

Tall Tales Three

Shattered Innocence

By

JACK KREGAS

PUBLISHING DETAILS

Shattered Innocence by Jack Kregas

© Jack Kregas

The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright restrictions above, no part of the production may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

1st Edition 2023

Copyright: Jack Kregas 2023

This book is copyright.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism, or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission.

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters in this book are fabricated from the imagination of the author. Some places and locations may be real, others are not. Any similarity to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

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This book is dedicated to all of those around the world who have had to report a member of their family or a loved one missing. I have not experienced such heartbreak, nor do I have the words to properly express the loss.

I hope this book brings attention to the world numbers of human trafficking so more efficient enforcement and punishment of these modern-day slavers may at least begin to reduce the numbers of our missing children.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE

Although this is a work of fiction the places are real as well as the number of persons missing around the world. The numbers are shocking and may vary depending on sources. I have represented them in italics and are factual as far as I can determine through 2021.

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A special thanks to Megan Norris who believed in this book from the beginning and has given hours of her time to help me create and improve this effort.

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This story is written in Australian English. Measurements are given as per the system of the country where the story is taking place. Australia and Europe use the metric system while USA uses the imperial system. A simple conversion is to think that one metre is approximately three feet, and eight kilometres is five miles. A table with some approximate conversions is provided at the end of the book.

PROLOGUE

7:31pm, 14 January 2018

A large horse float loaded with ultra-expensive thoroughbreds was parked by the stable. Two men talked to a third in quiet voices. They shook hands before two of the men climbed into the truck and drove slowly away. The short, stocky third man ambled back into the dimly lit stable, past the empty stalls, and towards two individual air freight containers. These containers were 3.0 metres long, with the width and height each measuring approximately 2.5 metres. They were marked with a company name and racing colours. One had the doors open with saddles and other equipment visible. The other was locked.

The man fumbled in his pocket for keys. He unlocked the padlocked container door which swung open with a squeak. The blended scent of human waste, body odour, and fear escaped in a cloud that made the man choke and swear.

Six metres away, crouched behind a white van, a helmeted person with a dark full-faced visor shook their head as if trying to avoid the smell without ever taking their eyes off the man.

Get your asses back against the wall while I undo these chains. One move before I tell you will be the last move you ever make, Boris threatened.

Two chains were bolted to the wall with a leg iron attached to the end. Boris removed an ankle bracelet, as he called it, from the left leg of the girl and then the boy.

They moaned in unison not knowing what new depravity was about to happen.

Stop all that wailing. You are about to go to for a ride. The last statement was followed by a knowing chuckle.

With the chains released, the terrified teenagers huddled against the cold steel walls of the container. The man grinned at them, then froze as a shadow came across the entrance of the container. Sensing movement, he turned to see a figure standing there.

Who the hell are you, he said, cautiously approaching the indistinguishable figure trying to decide whether it represented danger.

The silhouette addressed him sharply. Boris. Boris Kostova.

The man tensed hearing his name and stopped in his tracks.

Don’t move Boris.

The voice turned to the terrified teenagers speaking softly to them.

Don’t be scared. You two walk towards me now.

Boris bristled. As he took a step forward, he heard a muted crack then fell to the floor of the container yelping in pain.

The helmeted stranger encouraged the teenagers out of the container.

Easy, said the voice. Come out of the container and go to the right outside the stable. There is a taxi waiting across the parking lot. Get in and go to the hospital. You are safe. Now go!

The boy, not sure what was happening, stumbled weakly and pushed the girl ahead of him past the prostrate Boris. Both moved in slow motion as if sedated, obediently following the instructions they had been given and limping out of the container as they were told. Their clothes were covered with filth and terror swathed their pale faces which were stained with dried tears and matted hair. They disappeared into the darkness.

Boris moved to a sitting position on the container floor with one hand holding his knee.

You shot me. You will pay for this whoever the fuck you are.

Boris, think for a minute. Think hard because the answer may mean your life. Do you remember Rose Streeter? asked the voice, gruffly.

Boris moaned. His knee felt like it was on fire. He tried to think. Finally, he spoke slowly.

She was a model. An uppity bitch who thought she was famous. I remember her dark hair and small tits. She screamed and fought when I touched them before she was shipped and sold.

Boris then came back from the thoughts of the past. What’s it to you? Who are you and what do you want?

I ask the questions. Where was she sent? Who bought her?

I don’t know those details.

Where did the plane go?

Boris hesitated as his eyes followed the red laser to his other knee.

She went to the Middle East. After that I don’t know.

I want to know who you work for. The name of the one who gives the orders?

I don’t know who you are talking about.

Another round fired from the silenced Glock hit Boris in the shoulder. Boris rocked back in shock without the breath to scream out.

I will ask the question again.

Boris spat out a name. Yes. I work for him, came the strained reply.

That’s all I need to know. You have been helpful Boris and for that I will reward you. Move to the back of the container. Now!

Boris struggled dragging himself along the floor. A trail of blood followed him. A useless leg and hanging arm hindered his movement. He looked at the figure with hate overcoming his pain knowing he was to be chained as the youths had been. He kept his eyes on the figure thinking how stupid he was not to have his gun. The laws in Australia suck.

Boris, I am going to shoot you in the stomach. They say stomach wounds are the most painful. I hope that is true. Then I am going to close and lock this container and you will slowly suffer and bleed to death alone in this filth. It is not all you deserve but it’s the best I can do.

Boris started to speak but the Glock fired again. The helmeted person glanced at the withering Boris before putting the Glock in their pocket. The container door closed, muffling the sounds of Boris’s cries. The padlock secured the container.

The figure walked slowly away from the stable keeping to the shadows until reaching the secondary road. If their face had been visible, there would be no noticeable sign of emotion, no exhilaration, no remorse. The figure reached for the electric scooter where it leaned against a tree and rode off into the sultry heat of another perfect Queensland night.

CHAPTER ONE

10 June 1995

It was another beautiful Gold Coast Day. Brilliant sunshine with a slight breeze, sparkling water in the background with slow rolling waves pushing the sand back and forth. Sigmund Streeter paced back and forth but not in tune with the waves. He was nervous. He had good reason to be as it was his wedding day. After meeting the beautiful Grace Harris two years before, she was now to become his wife.

Sigi, as he was known, was happy with life since they met and moved in together more than a year ago. The small rental house a few streets back from the water in Paradise Point was a cheerful home. Their relationship was perfect except for the cold stare sent their way by Cam Harris every time they were in his company. He wanted his daughter married, not because of any strong religious beliefs, but because ‘that is what you do if you live together’. Where Sigi was pacing off his nerves, Cam was now smiling and blowing the foam off a cold beer.

Cam and Sarah Harris were old-school from near the country town of Beaudesert. Their property had been in the family almost forever. It gave them a living with beef cattle, sheep, and chickens plus a few ducks, a goat, numerous cats, and three working dogs. Grace, their only child, was brought up as a farm girl. She knew the working of farm life and was particularly good around animals. Cam expected her to become a vet and live on the land with him and Sarah.

He never forgave himself for giving into the women and agreeing to send Grace to a private high school on the Gold Coast. It was because of her four years near the beach and hanging with ‘foreign types’ as Cam called them, that Grace lost all interest in becoming a vet and decided to study for a business degree instead. Grace was not only attractive with dark hair, brown eyes, and a trim body, but very intelligent as well, earning scholarships for her last two years at the private school. Another scholarship paid for her education at Griffith University. She had job offers from banks after she graduated but considered her options before joining a mortgage company as it gave her more freedom and chances to advance. It was also how she met Sigi.

Sigmund Streeter was born in Germany. His father, Joe Streeter, was an officer in the US Army flying helicopters and stationed near Munich. His mother was a local girl, Ursula Backsmann who worked at the American Officers Club. Their romance was cut short when Joe suddenly received orders to join the war effort in Vietnam leaving Ursula pregnant. In 1969, Sigi was born with Ursula giving him his father’s surname. Ursula tried her best to contact Joe and to obtain help from the Army, but they didn’t want to know because she wasn’t married. She did learn that Joe was killed soon after arriving in Vietnam.

Now with a child to support, Ursula moved to Berchtesgaden in the Bavarian Alps where she had family. Her past record working for the US Army got her a position as an assistant manager in one of the American resort hotels catering to soldiers on leave. She had no regrets about the relationship with Joe. In fact, she felt extremely lucky with how things had turned out.

Sigi was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He was a happy child who grew up to enjoy skiing and skating as well as hiking in the summer. Sigi spoke German at home and English with an American accent from being around the hotel guests. Sigi went to the local German school as well as some days at the American school. He was equally at home in either environment with friends of both nationalities. He was on the local ski team and during the holidays worked with the ski school giving lessons.

In the spring of 1987 when Sigi was deciding what do to with his future, his mother took ill and died within weeks. It was the first setback in his life. He buried his mother without a visible tear as he knew she would have wanted him to be strong. She had told him his father was a brave pilot who had given his life for his country. She taught him that no matter what happened in life, you had to show strength and move on. At eighteen, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to do that. The days passed slowly filled with memories and his mother’s words. He missed the laughter, the company, and the love his mother had always provided.

Three weeks after his mother’s will was processed, Sigi was given a cheque as the sole beneficiary of her life insurance policy. It was not a huge amount but sizable enough to give Sigi time to think about his future. A skiing friend told him that he was thinking of going to Australia to teach skiing as it was coming into winter in Australia. It was a four-month job with lots of good-looking girls, liveable pay, and a place to stay. Sigi read the brochure without much interest.

He walked the streets of Berchtesgaden thinking that this was the only place he had ever known. Now everything had changed. It no longer felt like home. Something said it was time to move on. He contacted his friend and successfully applied for the job in Australia landing in Sydney in the first week of June and made his way to Thredbo to be a ski teacher.

Sigi liked the Australians he was to work with as well as Austrian, French, and American skiers who were also employed by Thredbo. There was only one major problem: no snow. It rained, then snowed, then rained and turned to ice. 1987 was the first year that Thredbo had installed snow-making machines which depended on temperature to work effectively. By the end of June with no real snow in sight, Sigi decided waiting around was not for him. He left Thredbo, taking a bus to Canberra where he bought a cheap used car. He had heard about ‘Australia’s Playground’, the Gold Coast, and headed in that direction.

The Gold Coast offered all the things that Sigi had never experienced before. Endless beaches, night life, approachable girls who were far friendlier than those in Berchtesgaden, and everyone wanted to be your mate. Sigi was 183 centimetres tall with blond hair and blue eyes. He had strong features and an athlete’s body which made him right at home on the Gold Coast. It was not long before he was sharing a house with six mates, got into surfing, night clubs, and whatever was on offer. Before he knew it, he was applying for an extension to his visa as a tourist. Although he was cautious with his money, he knew that eventually he would have to get a job if he was to stay in Australia.

Sigi landed a job as a used-car salesman. He learned the jargon and made a deal to upgrade his junk car for a more recent model, paid for from commission earned. Sigi drove from one end of the Gold Coast to the other speaking to anyone who had time to talk to him while learning more about Australian attitudes. He made a list of possible careers based on his knowledge of the area, his skills, and possible long-term rewards.

Real estate was the outstanding choice. The Gold Coast was growing with Australian tourists and those from the rest of the world. The climate was very inviting for people who were thinking of moving and there were jobs. Sigi took a real-estate course while flogging used cars.

In 1987, the Gold Coast was booming, and investment was increasing rapidly. Cranes were scattered everywhere as high-rise buildings sprung out of the ground like mushrooms. Around $200 million was spent on commercial development and all around the Gold Coast new hotel complexes and luxury apartments were beginning to fill the skyline, casting shadows onto its impressive surf beaches.

Sigi started his real-estate career selling units. He had a knack for convincing tourists to invest in Australia’s fastest growing playground. In 1990, he changed jobs and was one of the salesmen selling the newly built units in Niecon Plaza at Broadbeach. A new Ford Escort GT was parked in the garage of his one-bedroom unit with ocean views. Sigi was becoming known in the real-estate business as honest, understanding, and enthusiastic, which made him a top salesman.

By the early nineties, the bubble had burst. Interest rates rocketed to over seventeen percent slowing sales to a trickle. Sigi had been one jump ahead of the soaring rates instinctively understanding that tourist sales would decline but the hundreds moving into the area would need housing. Movie World opened on the northern end of the Gold Coast providing work while pumping up the demand for accommodation. Land was being subdivided into waterside lots with canal berths while more affordable dry lots were beginning to appeal to families. Monterey Keys was one of these new developments.

Sigi secured work selling house and land packages. This did not compare to selling investment units to tourists. This was talking to families about their dream home or at least the goal of owning a home. Sigi was there to make it happen. His personality endeared him to his buyers making him a star in a tough market. This is where he found his calling and his future wife.

Grace Harris stared at Sigi Streeter as he walked towards her with an outstretched hand. She had heard that he was a hot shot salesman, but she had not been told how good looking he was.

Hello, I’m Sigi Streeter. You are Grace Harris I believe. Please come with me. Sigi showed Grace the way to his office while peeking a look at her when he could do so unnoticed.

Could I get you something to drink, coffee, tea, something else?

No, thank you. I’m fine, answered Grace.

I understand that you’re in the mortgage business and would like permission to speak to our buyers about how and where they can finance their future homes.

The directness caught Grace off guard. No small talk, right to the point.

Yes, I’m here to discuss how we may be able to work together. Times are difficult as you know. We all must be more proactive in our approach. I have been involved in commercial but now am looking to concentrate on home financing. I came to the man with the most sales.

After you called for the appointment, I investigated your company. They have an excellent reputation. Here is the problem as I see it. There are plenty of buyers. They have some savings. It’s the interest rate and the ability to pay into the future that kills most deals. The banks are too rigid in my way of thinking. In these times flexibility is the key. I prequalify all my clients. If they cannot afford the property they want, I tell them straight. Save up and come back and see me in the future. It’s the ones that are borderline that need to be shown good faith. Are you working for a good faith company?

This again was not the kind of direct question that Grace was accustomed to. He was evaluating her. She composed herself as she watched him thank the girl who brought his coffee.

You know as well as I do each company has its parameters for loan criteria. We take every application seriously and judge it on its merit.

I’m sure you do, Grace. May I call you Grace? And so does everyone else but that is not what is required. Longer repayment times means lower monthly payments. A break on the first six months rate, or other ideas to help buyers qualify. You do twenty loans and a couple may go bad. It’s normal. The solution is to structure loans in a unique way. Be creative. We can also be more imaginative in how we ask the client to finance the house or the land. If you come up with innovative ideas, we can do business.

Sigi could see he had Grace at a loss. He backed off offering, I suggest we do this. You go to your people and talk with them, and I’ll do the same. Next week we meet again and see what we’ve come up with. We can take it from there.

Good idea, was the reply. I will see you then.

Grace left knowing that she liked this guy. Why, she was not sure. What she was