"Bloody hell!" Rollie moaned as he turned onto his side.
Angie knelt behind him and placed his head in her lap.
"Are you okay?" she asked, trying to hide her fear.
Rollie reached up and caressed her cheek. "Hey...hey, I'm fine. I'm okay," he reassured her.
The thugs came down by a ladder and roughly pulled Rollie and Angie up by their arms leading them towards one end of the hold. One of the thugs removed a latch and pulled open a steel door. The other thug, who was holding Rollie and Angie by the arms, threw them into the room. Before either of them could turn around, the door was slammed shut. They heard the latch replaced on the door. Once again they were locked up, this time in the darkness and cold of the ships belly.
"Rollie why are they doing this? They didn't even ask any questions."
"I don't know sweetie."
They could hear whispering, low voices coming from the darkness.
"Rollie?" Angie whispered.
Rollie's hand went to his head. He had a splitting headache now.
"Who's there?" he asked.
They could hear more whispering in the dark.
"Who's there?" Rollie demanded.
"We are not you enemies," came a male voice behind them. Angie and Rollie spun around. Their eyes were adjusting to the darkness and they could make out shapes.
Someone lit a small kerosene lantern and Rollie and Angie could see that they were not alone. They stood to find that In fact there appeared to be about thirty other people there, all of Asian descent.
The man that had spoken came forward. There were whispers as he did so.
"My name is Li Chen," The handsome man speaking was about Angie's age, of medium build with jet-black hair. He face held sorrow and pain, but his eyes emanated kindness. His clothes were dirty and tattered. In fact the whole room smelled of sweat, urine, and vomit.
"Rollie Tyler," Rollie offered as he extended his hand to the stranger, who though surprised, shook his hand. "This is Angie Ramirez," Angie extended her hand as well.
Rollie and Angie looked beyond Li Chen to the people that were behind him. Though the light was bad they could see people of various ages; the youngest around Angie's age, the oldest they guessed was in his late 60s. The majority of them were male, though there were five females in the crowd. Their clothes were tattered and dirty. Some of them were barefoot while others wore sandals. All of them look malnourished but beyond that...their spirits seemed to be broken, their eyes haunted.
Angie squeezed Rollie's hand.
"Why are you locked up down here?" Rollie asked finally.
Li turned and looked at the others. They were viewing Rollie and Angie with suspicion. It looked to Rollie and Angie as if Li was asking them for permission to speak to them.
Li spoke to the others in Chinese. Some of them shook their heads, obviously disagreeing with Li Chen. Li spoke again and afterwards, one of the more vocal opponents just raised his arms in a shooing motion, as if to say go ahead. Li turned back to Rollie and Angie.
"I'm sorry. I had to ask for permission. They do not trust anyone. But I pointed out to them that you are prisoners as well..."
"Yeah, we're all in this boat together. Er, so to speak," Rollie said, not meaning to joke around. Angie poked him in the ribs in rebuke. But Li just smiled. Rollie gave a brief explanation as to how he and Angie ended prisoners as well.
"A sense of humor is always good, especially in dire situations," Li said.
Before he could explain any further they could hear a commotion from up above. The steel that surrounded was too thick for them to hear exactly what was happening but they could hear someone yelling instructions with a bullhorn and feet scuffling hurriedly across the deck. The prisoners thought that maybe they would be rescued. Angie was about to start yelling herself when Li put a hand on her arm, and motioned to his lips, to stop her. She was going to yell anyway but the yelling stopped and they could hear feet move away from above them. Angie turned to Li.
"Why did you stop me?" she asked, "Maybe we could have gotten out of here."
Li looked at her, and then at the others. "Or we could have all been killed right away. We don't know what is happening up there. Those men are very dangerous. We have learned first hand that they care nothing for human life or human dignity. They put us down here to die..."
"Buy why?" Angie asked. "Why would anyone do that?"
"Perhaps," Li began, "I should tell you who we are in the first place."
Again, Li looked at the others, then he said something to them in Chinese. There was a look of both fear and resignation on their faces.
"All of these people are peasants, migrant workers, brothers, fathers, sisters, wives," Li began, "they come from a life where they work eighteen hour days, some for as little as 9 or 12 cents a day. Most of them have saved for years; others may have family in America, Canada, or Europe to pay for passage on any kind of transport ship out of China and other countries. They dream of a better life...." Li looked down in sadness, tears forming in his eyes, "Only to die like animals in our own filth," he said angrily.
Angie looked at Rollie to see that they were both affected by what Li had told them.
"What about normal channels. You know, legal immigration?" Angie asked
Li smiled weakly, "That takes years. And in most cases you have to be in danger for your life, before your case is accepted. In other cases it's who you know. I'm not condoning what they're doing but really, what chance do these people have?"
Rollie looked down at the people still crowded behind Li.
"What about you, Li?" Rollie asked, "What's your story?"
Li smiled at Rollie. "Why do you think my story is any different from theirs?"
"Let's just say, it's a feeling I have," Rollie said.
Li nodded in acknowledgment. "You're right. Actually, I am an American. Third generation. My full name is Michael Li Chen."
Angie's eyes widened, "So how did you end up on ship smuggling human cargo?" Angie asked.
Li laughed, "Human cargo? That sounds so impersonal...."
"I'm sorry," Angie reddened.
"It's okay," Li assured Angie, "It's a media and government buzzword to impersonalise the human tragedies it masks. I should know. I'm a journalist."
"You are?" Angie exclaimed.
Rollie smiled as if he already knew there was more to this man than met the eye, "That doesn't explain how you ended up here," Rollie pointed out.
"I work for the Times. The smugglers don't know that I am a journalist, otherwise, I fear I could be dead," he admitted finally, "I started investigating human smuggling a few years ago. I took a leave from the paper to follow the story on my own. Back when I first started investigating it, it was just a few incidents. But it has now grown into a very lucrative business for some people with profits often outweighing those of drug smuggling. And it is still growing."
"But how do they make a profit if their cargo ends up dead?" Angie asked, incredulous at the treatment her fellow captives.
"They insist on the money up front," Li explained. "I have heard of cases where people end up in slave or prostitution rings, and sweat shops. But there are some cases where the smugglers treat their ‘human cargo' badly, often resulting in death. It never used to be this bad though. The more lucrative it becomes, the more unsavory types get involved."
"Why aren't these smugglers or the ship owners prosecuted?" Rollie asked.
"Some are...but most aren't. This crosses too many jurisdictions. Government's are passing the buck. It's going to have to take a true international effort to stop this practice as well as a review of immigration laws. Meanwhile, the smuggling continues and people continue to die. All because they dared to dream of a better life for themselves or their families," Li explained, with just a touch of bitterness.
"We found a man, an old Chinese man, dead, in one of the crates. Was he with you?" Rollie asked.
Li hung his head, shaking it, "That was Chow Lueng Deng. He was a nice old man who thought he won the lottery."
"How do you figure?"
"Our captors chose him to live. Most likely because he was old and wouldn't give them any trouble. This happens sometimes with these smuggling rings. They choose one or two people to perpetuate the scam. They contact friends or families back in China or wherever they are from and the people think they are safe. People back in their homelands think that it's safe, so they fall into the same trap. Chow Leung Deng was a good man. He didn't deserve to die this way, alone and stuffed into a crate."
Rollie rubbed his hands over his face suddenly feeling very tired and very old.
"I don't know about you mate, but I for one, am not willing to die down here," Rollie declared.
"None of us want to die Mr. Tyler--"
"Rollie, please."
"Rollie," he smiled. "These people have spent their whole lives struggling just to live another day. And now? We've been down here for 15 days with little food or water. We are weak. Death will be a welcome visitor to some of us."
"I can't accept that," Rollie insisted. Li was about to argue when Rollie continued. "Look, I'm not asking them to risk their lives. But if I find a way out of here, I need to know if they will take that chance?"
"I don't know," Li answered honestly. "All I can do is ask."
"Fair enough."
Li turned and knelt to speak to the others. He spoke in hushed tones and listened intently to the others when they spoke. It was clear that there was mutual respect.
Angie tugged on Rollie's sleeve. "Rollie? Do you have a plan?'
Rollie turned his head towards Angie. There was a slight smile on his face, but his eyes showed worry.
"Angie, all I know is I am not willing to die here. And I'm not about to let anyone else die either if I can help it," he put his arm around Angie's shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.