Chapter 30: On The Road Again

I spent most of the following morning at the hotel, talking on the phone to Freddie. He wasn't keen on a pick up without doing a proper background check first but he did want to help out the Minister. In the end we agreed to go ahead. I took a short call from the Minister. He'd just wanted to check that I'd understood his point of view from our previous meeting. I had. Did I think I could provide a solution. I did. Would it help if he got me some assistance from the Interior Ministry? I would. They were very helpful. I was more than confident.

I had one other phone call. It was from Rick. He thought I'd want to know that Rachel had gone over the wire. He sounded pretty embarrassed about it. So was Sebastian. It was him that she'd jumped to get out.

The way Rick told it; Rachel had a problem with her computer. Sebastian had been working to sort it out. Rachel had come across very grateful and he'd decided to take advantage of the fact that they'd given her the full set of slave skills when they conditioned her. The only problem is that it looked like some of the conditioning didn't take for some reason. Seb had Rachel strip off and was getting naked himself. He had one leg out of his pants, and was balancing to try and get the other one out when she crashed him against the wall. The cell walls are tough. She was luckier with Seb than she was with me. It was late at night, some of the security guys on CCTV watch were dozing and it was about an hour later when they found him. She had used her stockings to hog tie him and then she'd gagged him with her panties and her bra. He was grunting like mad by the time someone had worked out he was missing and gone looking for him. It looked like Rachel had used Seb's key tag to get out and had got clear of the Prep Centre. Harry was spitting mad, he'd had to pull a team off collections to go looking for her.

There wasn't much I could do about it from where I was and I guessed that everyone involved would be having a discussion about their shortcomings with Freddie. I asked Rick to give me an update when he knew more.

That afternoon, as I later heard, Cora Argyll was heading back to her apartment in her Mini Cooper on the stretch of gravel and potholes that passed for the Kolin ring road. With irritation she saw a police car behind her. The flashing blue lights meant the same in Kushtia as they did anywhere. She pulled over and stopped.

She'd looked back at the police officer coming towards her car. It was a woman. "Well, that's good to see," thought Cora. Then looking at the overly tight black shirt and the mirrored, aviator sunglasses, "but why do they always think they have to look like something out of Police Academy?"

The police officer came up to her window. "Could you get out of the car, please madam," she said with the growling accent of a Kushtian from the far north of the country.

"What is the trouble officer?" Cora asked.

"If you could just get out of the car, please." Cora did as she was asked and handed over her driving license and Embassy papers. "You were driving rather erratically, madam," the officer said, "all over the road."

"I was avoiding the pot holes officer," Cora responded. "You can see what the road is like."

"Well maybe madam. But I would like to test whether you have been drinking." Her hand went to a pouch on her belt and she took out a breathalyser.

"It's nonsense officer. I know the law in Kushtia, I know you have a zero-alcohol limit for driving. I'm a British diplomat."

"Yes, madam, I saw the CD plates on your car. I'm afraid that we find some diplomats do not have great respect for our local laws and customs. Irrespective of your diplomatic immunity we cannot have drivers under the influence of alcohol. Please blow into the breathalyser."

"Oh, this is absurd. But very well," she'd said grabbing the box.

"Just blow steadily into the tube." She did so. The officer took the breathalyser from her and peered at it. "Oh, dear," she said. "I'm afraid this is not good. You see this number here — this is far too high. We'll have to get this checked. I'm sure there is no problem really but if you could come back to my car we can go to the Police Station."

"But, but, its nonsense," said Cora, protesting, as the police officer took her by the arm.

"Yes, madam, but I'm afraid you must come along with me," she said taking her towards the police car.

"Well, all right but you must contact the Ambassador."

"Of course. We can do that at the station. I'm sure we'll clear things up quickly there anyway." The officer reached to another pouch on her belt. "I need to handcuff you, please, Madam."

"That's not necessary officer."

"I'm sorry madam, but it is the procedure. You see my partner will have to drive your car back and I can't have a suspect in the car with me on my own unless they are handcuffed. Our procedures are quite clear. I'm sure you understand."

Reluctantly Cora held out her wrists. The officer snapped one cuff on but pulled her wrists behind her back before fastening the second. Cora yelped as the cuff locked shut. "Sorry Madam, I'm sure we will sort this out. Now get in the car please." The officer helped Cora into the back of the car holding the top of her head to make sure she cleared the roof as she got in. Getting into the front she drove off with Cora fuming quietly but helplessly on the back seat.

Ten kilometres down the road the car pulled off at a petrol station. The car parked at the back. "I need the rest room," said Cora's driver. "You'll be OK there."

And that was where I found Cora when I drove up alongside in the battered pickup truck I had hired. She seemed pretty pleased to see me until she saw what I aimed to do with the roll of tape I was carrying. Once I got it over her mouth I couldn't tell whether she was swearing at me in English or Kushtian. I was certain though that it was one or the other. I got her out of the police car and into the front seat of my truck and strapped her in. With her veil arranged across her face no one could see she was gagged. Then there just remained the question of the commission payment. I tossed the package as agreed onto the front seat of the police car; two genuine Wonderbra's each for the girls, one in black, one in white, '36B' for the arresting officer, '34C' for her partner. It seemed like a good deal to me but apparently they were a rarity out there. I dropped Cora off as agreed at a corrugated iron shed that backed onto a wire fenced compound on the edge of the airport. I added some ropes to Cora's ankles to stop her wandering off. The sign on the compound said Kushtian Ministry of Trade : Bonded Stores. She was still pretty peeved as I padlocked the door

My meeting later that day with the Trade Minister went exceptionally well. There was one interruption. Apparently the Interior Minister had been asked by the British Ambassador to try to track down a diplomat that appeared to have gone missing. There was some question that she may have been kidnapped by insurgents from over the border. The Ambassador was most upset. The Ambassador was concerned that nothing should interfere with my negotiations. The Interior Minister promised an investigation. I was happy to reassure the Ambassador that I saw no reason for this to interfere with my business discussions. I hoped that no harm had come to the diplomat concerned. Apparently her car had been found near the border. Burned out, it appeared. The Ambassador agreed it was not a safe place for his staff to be travelling to and, of course, he would advise his staff not to do so in future.

The Trade Minister, apologised but was unable to spend much time with me. He was anxious to get on with his business of state because he had a relaxing evening planned at home that day. He was however, very happy that Clegg Enterprises should handle Kushtia's future requirements for shipments from the UK. His secretary would draw up the appropriate license, he said. If I liked he could have her deliver it to my hotel that evening.

That seemed an excellent idea to me. We shook hands and I left him.

To while away what was left of the afternoon I had a visit planned. I'd promised to see the Kalinin's son as part of the trip and took the opportunity to call in on him.