How To Recover Money Lost in Binary Options Scams

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The ill-tempered winds of the Ard’ius Sea began to die down as the ship rocked into the bay. The coastal town of Holes sat lit up beyond the bow. Lanterns and bonfires already ablaze as night flooded in.

Zah couldn’t wait to be off the damned vessel. Even after her brief stint in the navy, she had never gotten used to it. Her feet were made for solid ground, not this over-sized barrel.

The ship’s crew scurried around her as they prepared to make landing. Zah loaded her musket.

Holes always stank of fish. A few straggling traders where breaking down their stalls, the market long closed. Leaving the wooden walkway, Zah’s feet met cobbled stone as she rose into town, her feet carrying her uphill to their desired location.

Holes only had two taverns and neither were friendly. Zah picked the least hospitable of the two. She’d be in good company there and maybe learn a thing or two. The bouncer at Bucket’s Bottom gave her a hard look. She was always a familiar face to doormen, but she hadn’t been in Holes for some time. She gave him a nod and he eased up, acceptance showing through hard features. She passed him without another look.

She slid her way down uneven steps and eased into a steady glide towards the bar. Most patrons ignored her. Some of the locals gave her a good look over, but the burn-scars across Zah’s face told them to not stare for too long, this was a woman who brought trouble, who had probably pissed off all the wrong people and lived. She was somewhat proud of her scars, they were reminders of all the bastards she’d sent to the grave.

She exchanged coin for a tankard of ale and gravitated to the far wall.

Good, she could take in the whole room from here. Nursing her ale, Zah made a mental record of every face in Bucket’s Bottom. The illustration they had supplied her with was decent work, but it had been drawn from the Duchess’ romanticised notion of Zah’s quarry and she was unconvinced the woman would be as quite as attractive as the Duchess claimed.

Twelve women; sixteen men. Not one of them even close. ‘Damn it.’

Oh well, it’ll be another lengthy hunt. Why couldn’t just people stay put.

Zah swallowed a few more pints before heading to the second tavern, ending with her crawling up an Inn’s steps, stumbling down the hall and dropping her heavy jacket on the floor, collapsed face-first into a single bed clearly meant for a child. The musket dug into her side as she waddled drunkenly to sleep. Dreams of blood would be waiting.

Morning wasn’t kind to Zah. ‘Well fuck Morning,’ she breathed, unamused. The mare beneath her, neighed, as though in response to her thoughts. “Yeah, I hate you too, partner.”

The land was too green for Zah’s taste. Well, not too many things were, but there was a special place in her heart that hated fields. It reminded her too much of where she’d come from and that petulant farm-girl was long deceased.

The first village after Holes was a no-go. They hadn’t had anyone except the usual traders and a few local farmers. So, her bounty had bypassed the town. Smart. But this wasn’t Zah’s first gig, so she dug the stirrups into her mare and cantered off down the country road.

‘You’ll need to stop eventually.’ She mulled over the possibilities, tried to think like the the youth, scared, but not too scared; smart, resourceful, angry; ‘yes, I understand you, woman, but don’t think for one second that I care about you.’

Zah checked every barn and farmhouse off the road. No luck.

Eventually, she came to a town about half the size of Holes. There had been a young woman, alone and riding a pony. She had passed through just yesterday buying some some grain. She left by the eastern road.

Zah grinned at the news and headed South.

‘Not losing me that easy.’

She spent that night lying with her horse in a barn. The mare had gotten used to Zah’s quiet presence, “Don’t get too used to me, girl. We’re almost done.”

She drifted to sleep as a thunderstorm crashed above, a sudden downpour drilling against wooden slats above.

The moist air warranted her wearing her heavy, leather jacket, her rapier now strapped to the saddle. She’d catch the youth today, she knew it. Then she could get away from this cursed island and back to civilisation.

***

When she found her, she wasn’t alone. ‘Damn it.’

No worries, just more fools sent to meet their maker. She checked the sun, three more cycles till dark.

She’d wait, and then she would finish it.

***

There were four. Two men, a woman and the target.

Zah had to assume the girl was now armed. Could mean her death if she didn’t and as much as she wasn’t too chuffed with living, she wasn’t about to sink to the abyss just yet.

So, the youth had enough coin to hire some Mercs, scum that would do just about anything for a coin. Zah would do just about anything for coin, but, well, that was different. She hadn’t yet thought of a compelling argument for why, but she was working on it.

The band made camp just before dark, their horses tied to a nearby willow, embers of a campfire rising skyward. So, they had gotten careless. Zah hated incompetence, these fools have one job, to keep the girl out of sight and safe from anyone hot on her trail. Well, perhaps they were just cocky, baiting her in. Zah shook her head as she tied her own horse to a tree just under a mile further down the road.

Arrogant bastards.

She crawled the last hundred yards on her belly, sleeves rolled up and ready for action, her Guild tatts showing in the faint glow of firelight.

A rapier and two pistols on the woman. ‘Yup, as I suspected, their leader.’ Two short swords for the goons, who looked near identical, a single rifle on on of the men. She’d have to take the woman first, those pistol would be bothersome if she didn’t. Definitely no mage. Good. As much as she was proud of her achievements against such talentless conjurers, Zah didn’t fancy having that scar spread further across her face.

Gods, she hated Magic. If you can’t fight fair, then don’t.

Her pistol was already cocked and loaded. Resting her forearms on top of each other, she took aim.

Zah fired, catching the woman on the cheek and sending her sprawling. The two goons lurched into action. Damn it. That woman wouldn’t be down for the count.

‘Alright, we do this the hard way.’

Zah rose, rapier in hand, closing the distance between her and the rifle as one of the men leapt for it. She stabbed him in the belly before he could cock it. “Ma.” Leapt from his dying lips.

‘Family business, just great!’ That woman would be pissed.

Zah turned as the other man stood frozen, watching, as what was undoubtedly his brother coughed blood and then went still, eyes open.

The target sat on the other side of the flames, watching Zah through the fire.

The brother screamed and charged.

Zah calmed herself.

His short sword came flying down where Zah had stood just a heartbeat ago, she sidestepped, her rapier hanging loose at her side, malleable and awaiting orders. Zah was impressed with the man’s speed as he thrust his elbow out towards her jaw. She used his momentum to pull him into her blade’s path. Then he too coughed blood and dropped into a heap of skin and bones beneath her.

She checked her jerkin, “just as well you didn’t get any of that shit on me.”

A pistol fired. Catching Zah in the side. ‘Fuck.’

“You killed my boys!” the woman screamed, attempting to aim through bloody eyes.

Zah didn’t let her fire the second pistol as she flashed forward to dive her blade into the woman’s chest, twice for good measure. She kicked the woman into the flames, cursing under he breath. ‘Why do they love shooting me so much?’

The girl stood as her face swam with shadows under the rising furnace.

“Well, I’ll be. You are as attractive as they said.”

“Whatever she’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“As much as I love coin, darling, there are rules when it comes to my line of work; and the most important one is, never cross a contract.”

The girl pulled a knife from beneath her travelling coat.

Zah smiled, “I am planning on taking you in alive, sugar.”

The girl looked at the three corpses around her, her gaze reclining from the melting flesh of the woman. Then she looked at Zah’s wound.

“You’re hurt. I, I can help.”

“I’m sure you can. But I think I’ll take care of that little problem on my own.”

Zah could see the thought process, the youth’s brain was alight with dwindling ways out of this mess.

“Way I see it is, you got one option, you put that blade down, I fix myself up and then we head back the way we came, alive and well.”

The girl met her eyes and shook her head, something then died inside, no more visible thoughts,

‘What-’

“NO!!”

The woman had raised the knife up to her neck, the imprint of a tight necklace had once hung there, proof that she was property of the Duchess. Zah tried to close the gap despite the pain in he side, but the blade found its way across the pale skin and the youth fell to her knees as Zah skid to catch her.

“Why?”

The woman just shook her head, her eyes closing, blood spilling out onto Zah’s breeches.

“You stupid, stupid, child.”

But deep down Zah understood. She had once known what it meant to be like property to someone, she had fled that life and forged her own. But that knowledge and understanding didn’t stop her from being angry. She had a job to do and yes, that work was messy and usually benefited a bunch of ungrateful bastards, but her livelihood depended on her being reliable and thorough. Too bad, you win some, you some some.

She searched the body for some kind of memento, that necklace would have been ideal, but it was long gone, probably tossed aside at the first opportunity. Zah settled for slicing away a good chuck of the woman’s hair and bagging some rather expensive looking earrings. ‘No wonder she’d had some coin.’

Zah chased off two of the horses and the pony, then rode the third horse back to her mare. There, under harsh moonlight, she fished out the bullet and sewed her side up, cursing frequently as she worked the needle.

She didn’t sleep that night. She lay for hours, petting the mare in another barn. No thunderstorm tonight, just the raw silence that always followed a kill.

The next night Zah drank herself into oblivion in Bucket’s Bottom and woke in the back of a stable being chased away from the owner starting their shift. “Off with you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zah managed through her numbed lips, her head thundering with pain.

Boarding the ship that would take her back to the Capital, Zah found some hay bellow deck to pass out on. The vessel departed on a uncharacteristically quiet sea. Zah could still see that young woman’s face when she closed her eyes, but the image soon faded, they all did.

“Just business,” she reminded herself, as the squawks of hungry seagulls hushed and died behind them along with her sobering thoughts, “On to the next one.”

How To Recover Money Lost in Binary Options Scams

Just Business

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