Chapter 82

It was good to be back in the Chateau again. I'd stayed at the factory for over a month. Only Lynne, Karolina and Ela stayed at the Chateau. They and my General Staff worked hard on the problem of tracking police cars and the very few foot patrols that the constabularies made.

They did have a few successes though. As students were gathering for a demonstration, we used the councils CCTV cameras and watched as the police set up barriers and then 'the kettle'. This was a fenced area where problematic people, or those judged to be problematic by the police; a very convenient judge and jury situation in my opinion, were held until the police deemed the situation stable.

The real results for us though was the arrival and mustering of three coach loads of additional officers. We watched in high definition as they debussed and mustered, and then were ordered by the Superintendant in charge, to remove their shoulder patches. These patches carried their warrant number. Without this they were, technically, out of uniform and thus did not have the right to carry out the duties of a constable. It also meant that they would be much harder to identify in the case of 'incidents' later.

We watched horrified as most of the demo leaders and stewards were picked out of the crowd and 'Kettled'. Anyone who protested this was also grabbed and forced into the enclosure.

We watched as passers-by were also grabbed and they too were 'Kettled', including a young mother pushing a buggy with a toddler in it. The buggy was knocked over as the protesting mother was physically thrown into the enclosure. Her child was left in the buggy on its side, being kicked out of the way twice by different police officers over the course of nearly half an hour. The mother protesting against being separated from her child and at the treatment the child received.

We watched in mounting horror as the mother was struck over the head twice with an ASP baton, a 'self defence' weapon used by the UK police, she fell and lay motionless on the ground. Two students ran over and started to administer first aid but both were beaten back by other officers. We watched the woman lying, her legs twitching a little. And then they stilled.

"She's just died," said Ross. "Brain injury and most likely bruising of the brain, swelling, and ... death." In tears, he turned away from the TV.

Then came the clean up. An officer shook the woman as if to wake her up, called something to those outside the Kettle, and four constables rushed in with a stretcher. A police van pulled up to the entrance of the enclosure and the woman was placed inside. The buggy was lifted up and, quite horrifically, thrown into the back of the van.

The other people inside the Kettle looked on in horror at this, but any protest or other disturbance was met with a quick and violent response.

We watched the London news that evening. The reporter said that the demonstration had passed off quietly and without incident thanks to quick and appropriate action by the Police. Helen huddled in Ross' arms crying.

Three days later the same reporter gave us the tragic news about a missing young mother and her 18 month old child. The woman was said to be a drug addict and the police feared for the safety of the child.

My ladies and slaves spent the next two weeks going over the recordings from twenty CCTV cameras. They pinpointed and identified each officer who had any part at all in the woman's death. They also identified every illegal action that the police took and who did what. In all, when the time was right we would be presenting video evidence, from the Police's own CCTV cameras regarding these crimes.

We did not actually expect any arrests or charges being brought.

We all felt sickened by what we'd witnessed.

There was another problem though.

The techies couldn't find any evidence of Police cars carrying out high speed runs on the motorways.

There had been plenty of runs up to just over three years ago; then nothing, nothing at all. Perhaps the ACPO had gotten wise and deleted all of the records out of the various databases. Karolina thought that this was unlikely as there would be some missed. No one was perfect and, given the number of individual high speed pursuits and other trips along the motorways there should be some evidence of at least one police car hammering along the road.

It was beginning to look as though we'd have to put people out watching for high speed cars. I didn't want to do this as it would put friends and helpers in direct danger from the corrupt police who we were trying to trap.

Lynne found them. While Lynne had been working with Karolina and Ela for months now, and had amassed enough knowledge and skills to be awarded a PhD in Computer Science, she wasn't in the same league as the other two. However she was much better than either of them for displaying information graphically. And it was one of Lynne's graphs that showed us what the police techies were doing.

The graph showed 'dips' in the number of cars caught speeding. These dips though were at odd times. She then looked at the results from the cameras either side of the one she was working on. The dips were there too, but at slightly different times. Taking a string of five cameras, Lynne found the truth. The cameras were being switched off whenever a police car approached it; switched on again after the vehicle was out of camera range. We could now follow the cars by the effect that they had on the cameras rather than the video itself.

There was one more thing to try.

Karolina, Lynne and Ela finished their presentation, all very pleased with themselves. They had every right to be pleased, they'd all done exceptional work in analysing the movements of police vehicles around the country.

"So you see Boss, Generals..." said Ela.

"We're not GENERALS!" exclaimed Carol for about the ten thousandth time (give or take a couple.)

"So you see Boss, Commodore's..." Ela amended with a smile.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!" said Carol.

The rest of us smiled.

" ... we can track an individual vehicle with 95% accuracy over a ten mile distance; 99% accuracy between ten and twenty miles, 100% over twenty miles."

The 'Commodores' applauded their work and its results. I sat thinking for a while.

"Now, can you prevent the cameras being turned off whenever the cars pass them?"

The three computer experts stared at me for a few moments, their eyes going a little glassy. I could see that they were thinking about the problem, and probably wouldn't notice if we all left the room right now.

Quietly I got up and left, the 'Commodores' followed me.

I undressed by the pool and settled into my lounger. As the weather had turned cooler now, the glass roof had been slid into place and our pool was now 'indoor.' Before Umber could settle beside me, I stopped her.

"Get me Julia, precious girl. She is not to hurry but to come as comfortably as she can." I ordered.

Umber smiled, "Yes my Master." She ran off to do my bidding, but she'd ensure that Julia didn't try to run when coming to me.

"Boss..." started Carol a little hesitantly, "why are you calling us 'The Generals'?"

"Well you're my General Staff. And we don't know what else to call you. What would you as a group like to be called?"

They thought about this, then quietly talked amongst themselves.

Julia arrived, she showed every day of her pregnancy now. She looked beautiful, her skin glowed and her hair shone, sparkling eyes took in everything around her. However she thought that she looked fat and ugly. She was the only one who thought this.

Before she could try to kneel, I pulled her onto my lap and cuddled her.

"How are you feeling my precious girl?" I asked.

Tears started to splash onto my chest.

"I'm hurting, my back hurts and Baby keeps stamping on my bladder ... offff! Baby's just elbowed me again."

I ran my hand over her bump, Baby was very active now. We watched as a lump was pushed out against Julia's abdomen. This lump moved right across her stomach and then disappeared.

"It's not long now dearest girl."

"I know Master, but I'm scared."

"Of course you are my precious. But Em is looking after you well, isn't she."

"Of course she is Master!" she replied indignantly. I gave her a smack on her bum for her cheek. "Sorry my Master, sometimes my hormones run away with me." She looked properly contrite. "My Master, Em looks after us all exceedingly well. She makes sure that I have everything I need and is very careful when she examines me."

I kissed her and she snuggled into me. Soon I felt her relax as she fell asleep.

Right now, I was content.

I too closed my eyes and soon joined Julia in slumber.

Dinner was quiet, I think that the shock of finding the factory so close to us had affected our sense of security.

But maybe this was something I could do something about.

I ate thoughtfully; neither Sasha nor my girls disturbed my thoughts. Missing dessert, I hurried along to my office. I heard footsteps behind me; shoes rather than bare feet so it wasn't one of my girls. Though I knew that they were about somewhere.

I turned and saw Julie hurrying to catch up with me.

"Boss, we've agreed. We'll accept you all continuing to call us the Generals, but we'd much prefer to be called 'the Coven'. After all, we are all female and we are trying to work our magic."

I smiled. "OK, I'll let everyone know. Thanks for telling me."

In the office I started looking at the large scale local map. Specifically the area around my factory and Martinè.

What I saw pleased me. Now I just needed to raise a little petty cash.

I emailed Nigel, my accountant. He'd squeal a bit about this but do his absolute best to get me the cash I wanted. After all three billion Euro isn't that much, not really.

Now to contact Trystan Bonner, or Bayard as he called himself. He'd help smooth the way for a few land purchases. Especially if I gave him some of the documents that were found in the factory owners hidden safe.

I put together a package of some of the less salubrious documents and photos and slid them in an envelope.

"Elastic!" I called as I finished addressing the envelope.

She entered my office about five minutes later. I was staring into space, longing for a window. "Yes Boss,"

"These need to be hand delivered to Trystan Bonner, that DGSE guy who came here when Susan and Varinka were found."

"I know just who to send Boss, your package will be as safe as houses and they both speak French fluently." Elastic smiled, "I'll send them in to collect the package..."

"No, tomorrow morning will be fine. They only need to go to Paris, they shouldn't take too long."

"OK Boss, tomorrow morning then." Elastic left still wearing a strange smile.

Elastic's knock interrupted our discussion. Sasha, the Coven, Prof and I were fine tuning some details of the data gathering exercise that we were currently running. This was going well but needed a few little tweaks here and there.

"Come in." I called.

Elastic entered followed by two of her Marines. One I recognised straight away.

"KATIE!" I exclaimed.

"DAD!" She was as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

She rushed over and hugged me. "Do you work for the Baron as well?" she asked.

Sasha sniggered. She ignored my glare as well.

"Err..." I started.

"So this is Katie who I've heard so much about," said Sasha.

Katie snapped to attention, "Marine Phelps, Ma'am!"

So at least she knew who Sasha was.

"When Commander Bands gives you some time off you must come and see me, we've so much to talk about." Sasha's grin would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame.

"Marine Phelps..." said Elastic quietly, "perhaps you could collect the package from the Baron now?"

"Ma'am, Yes Ma'am!" was the only reply that Marine Phelps could give.

Katie and her partner looked round for the Baron, both ignored me even though I held out my envelope to them.

Katie's partner noticed first. She nudged Katie with her elbow, "Kat! It's your Dad!"

Katie looked at me again, stared at the envelope in my hand, then back at me. "Daaaddd?" She took the envelope and looked at the address on the front.

"It really does need to be delivered to the addressee personally, and as soon as possible." I told them.

"Sir ... Yes ... Dad ... Sir..." Katie didn't know what to call me.

"Dad will do." I smiled at her.

"Yes Dad." She smiled too, her pixie smile warmed and hurt my heart at the same time. My baby was going into trouble. And I was the one who was sending her.

The two girls left, Katie turning and looking at me one last time before the door closed.

"Oooohhhhhh you are soooooo in the shit when she gets some time off," gloated Sasha.

Moments later the air was rent by the roar of a very high powered motorbike being revved. Hearing it now reminded me of the times over the last few days that our peace had been disturbed by this very same noise. The only good thing was that it never stayed in one place for very long.

My concern at my baby riding pillion on such a dangerous machine must have been obvious.

The sound of gravel being sprayed against the walls and windows, told us all that that rocket with seats was attempting to reach warp speed. I almost prayed that the other Marine would look after my little baby.

"Don't worry, I sure she'll be safe." Sasha reassured me.

"She'd better be," said Elastic. "She's the driver..."

"WHAT!" I couldn't believe my ears. "But she only had a moped."

"Well Boss, Phelp's moped seems to have grown quite a lot since you last saw it. And by the way, Jones is the only one who'll ride with her when she's on a speed mission."

I went wide-eyed at that piece of news.

"Boss, she really is the best at what she does, that's why I chose her for this job. And Jones has been rated Master with both pistol and long arms. And both of them have been rated 'competent' by Madam Li."

"Perhaps Katie'll be getting a talking to when you next see her as well." Sasha was enjoying this far too much.

Now desperate to get my mind of the thought of Katie driving a huge motorbike, I suggested that we get back to work. Though my mind wasn't really on the planning anymore.

Sasha sent me to the pool after nearly five minutes.

I swam for about an hour, then walked around the Chateau. Two gardeners were raking the gravel on the driveway while a third picked the gravel out of the flower boarder by the wall.

"That little Miss, she is a terror on her motorcycle, eh, Monsieur Le Baron?" one said with a laugh.

Instead of strangling him I nodded.