Chapter 65: Looking For Lauren

Harry turned out a small team to go hunting Lauren. He'd been trying to bring on a new set of "cadets" as he called them. All girls under twenty, Harry thought they'd be helpful for collecting the increasing number of eighteen to twenty year olds we were being asked to find.

Four of them were sent off with a list of some of the places that the Emir knew Lauren used; a couple of photographs and Sarah's description of the way that Lauren was dressed. Harry told them just to report in when they'd found her but I could tell he wasn't confident that they wouldn't try to pick her up themselves.

I was with Harry when he got the phone call saying they'd found her. We hopped into his Land Rover and headed off through the Worcestershire countryside, following the directions from Harry's team.

We turned off the main road into a car park beside a large metal framed building. "The Music Barn" the sign said. At two o'clock in the afternoon it was deserted.

A teenage girl, one of Harry's team I assumed, skate boarded towards us across the car park. She skidded to a halt inches from the car, stood on the tail of her board and flipped it up to catch it in her hands as she dismounted. Harry opened the window on his door. "Yo!" she announced in greeting. Suddenly I was finding it difficult to remember that I was only about 10 year's older than she was.

"So you found her?"

"Yepp."

The new arrival obviously had as broad a vocabulary as her quarry.

"You wanna tell me about it? Or are we just going to applaud the skateboarding?"

She looked sulky. "She's around the back."

"OK, what do we need to do to pick her up?"

"Nah, don't bother. We done that."

"Jaycee, I said just find her. I said don't touch her."

"She'd have sussed us, the time you took. We took her easy. That's what we're supposed to be for isn't it?"

"When I say so. Not just when you feel like it."

"Whatever."

She must be getting on famously with Lauren, I thought. Harry looked pensive. "OK, let's talk about it later. Do we go with you or are you gonna bring her out here?"

Jaycee sucked on her teeth and looked back towards the building. She gestured with her head towards the side of the building, got back on her skateboard and headed off. We followed in the Land Rover. Beside the building was a overgrown track and at the back of that was a derelict brick hut, its windows without glass, its door hanging loosely from one hinge. Jaycee disappeared inside. Harry backed the Land Rover up to the hut and we followed her inside.

Jaycee was waiting for us with two of her pals. Sitting in the floor, wrists and ankles bound and with a rucksack pulled down over her head as a hood was a girl I assumed to be Lauren. She was only wearing one of her two trainers. Harry pointed down at Lauren's bare foot. "Loose ends," he said to Jaycee and her pals. "I've told you about that. We don't leave loose ends. Where's the other shoe?"

Jaycee laughed and pulled the rucksack clear of Lauren's head, showing the other trainer jammed toe first into the poor girl's mouth and tied there as a gag. Lauren shook her head trying to dislodge the shoe but without effect. Her complaints became progressively more excited and animal like as Harry grinned and congratulated Jaycee and the others.

Harry and I pulled Lauren to her feet. Together we picked her up and pushed her into the back of the Land Rover before wrapping her in a tarpaulin. "Thanks, Jaycee," said Harry. "Good job."

"Fair 'nuff," said the girl, evidently pleased by the compliment. "Hey is it true we snatched Hettie Van Voom?"

"Yeah, sure. Part of the same job."

"Excellent!" said Jaycee. "Sorry I missed that one. She is just sooo cool. Do we get to prep her?"

"Sorry, Jaycee, she's being delivered today." Jaycee looked disappointed. Comparing her pale, spotty, complexion, ratted hair, ripped jeans and cropped t-top with Hettie's immaculate appearance she seemed like an unlikely admirer but this business throws up some strange people. Jaycee and her pals grabbed their skateboards and piled into the back of the Land Rover around the helpless Lauren. We dropped them off at the railway station and headed off with Lauren towards the castle.

As we drove the Land Rover back, with Lauren secure in the back under a tarpaulin, I chatted with Harry about Sarah and her problems. As I suspected he wasn't interested in doing anything for her, Cindy was proving to be just as useful. I asked him about Tricia. She'd been bending my ear about taking a lead role on a collection. Harry was blunt. "She'll get to go lead when I think she's ready. You wouldn't want any different would you?"

"Nuhuh," I said. "Your call is good enough for me." And it was. If Harry didn't think she was ready then it wouldn't be good for the collection and it wouldn't be good for Tricia either. Anyway I wasn't about to put my neck out for her with Harry.

Lauren started to kick up a fuss in the back. The trainer gag kept the noise down but it was still irritating. "Fancy some music?" said Harry. I nodded. He pushed the on switch on the Land Rover's CD player. Lead Zeppelin poured out of the speakers. It drowned out Lauren's grunting but that was about all that could be said for it. My taste goes more for Northern Soul.

We drove up to the Emir's place. He was waiting at the door. Harry and I carried Lauren, helpless, kicking and wrapped in the tarpaulin, inside.

Brad helped us to get her untied. Even after we took the gag off her she stayed silent.

"Lauren, we need to discuss this," said Brad. Lauren took no notice. He snipped through the plastic ties around her ankles and her wrists. Lauren sat on the floor hunched up and scowling at her father. "Come on," Brad said, gripping Lauren's arm and helping her to her feet. "Let's go somewhere quieter." He turned to Harry and me. "Thanks guys," he said. "Lauren and I need to chat. Why don't you get yourselves a beer, Freddie and Kushnati are in the bar."

I spent about half an hour with Kushnati, Clegg, and Harry but it was soon obvious that Kushnati was getting restless waiting for the return of his fiancée to be. I agreed to look for Brad and Lauren.

I bumped into one of Brad's guards in the corridor. He said they were down in the dungeon but Brad didn't want to be interrupted. I slipped into a gallery that looked down into the dungeon to wait for an opportunity to get them to come back to the bar. Lauren was over at one side, swinging her legs under the chair she was sitting on. Brad was dividing his attention between talking to his daughter and tightening straps that were holding Femke onto the rack. Alongside them Greetje had been tied to the rim of the great wooden wheel. Both Femke and Greetje were moaning in fear.

"Why wouldn't you talk to me?" Brad was asking his daughter.

"He's gross. He's old and he's gross. How could you think I'll marry him?"

"Lauren, sometimes it's a good idea to take a little bit of pain for a greater good." Brad turned his attentions to Greetje, tightening her straps. "Like these ladies are going to discover for tormenting Sarah."

"I won't do it, Dad."

"Think about it. You'll be the wife of a council member; practically royalty. OK, Kolin isn't the greatest place on the planet but you can still get MTV there. You'd have your own slaves; a councillor's wife wouldn't be expected to lift a finger. Beside's how long can he live?" Brad tugged on the bar that started to stretch Femke on the rack. "You shouldn't have been quite so willing to amuse Mr Koresh, Femke dear," he said. "I think you should have come to find me." Femke gasped as the rack began to pull against her arms and legs. Brad turned back to Lauren. "But if you won't go..."

Lauren watched fascinated as Femke tried to pull against the effects of the rack. Brad went across to Greetje and started to winch the wheel she was tied to clear of the floor. Her squeals became louder with each creak of the winch and clank of the chain. As her belly lifted from the floor and she took the weight of her body on the straps around her wrists and ankles she gave out a deep groan.

"My own slaves?" Lauren asked. "Couldn't I do that here? I mean I'm old enough to have my own and you've let me use Sarah."

"It's different here, Lauren. Or back in the States. There's too many people who think that sort of thing is primitive and — what did you call Kushnati — gross. I can only do it because of my diplomatic immunity and a lot of money and help from Clegg. Even then, I'm not sure we're going to be able to keep it going. Sure you could go on borrowing slaves but it would be a long time before you could really have your own here." Femke and Greetje were both groaning. Lauren got up from the seat and wandered across to look at them more closely.

"But he is gross. I mean the smell. And, well, in bed?"

"From what I hear the Emir won't be bothering you much in the bedroom. You could probably persuade him to let you have one of the young tribesmen to keep you amused. He's happy with the occasional grope and plenty of beer. And if you had your own slave to divert him..."

"You'd let me have one? As my own for real slave? Really Dad?"

Brad leant on the lever of Femke's rack again, she yelled. Lauren's eyes were brighter than ever. "Why not? If it would help. Not Sarah, though, she's going back to Clegg. Have one of the others." Greetje groaned and wriggled setting the wheel swinging on its supporting chain.

"Oh Dad!" Lauren exclaimed and ran forward, throwing her arms around his neck. She gave him one kiss after another.

"Hey," he said. "Am I forgiven then?"

"I'll do it," said Lauren.

"Kushnati wanted to go through the formalities today, you know."

"Yeah, I guessed," said Lauren. "Well, why not? Unless you want to play with these some more?" She gestured at Femke and Greetje. "Ooo, I couldn't have these two could I?"

"Why not?" said Brad. Lauren clapped her hands in delight. "I'll get one of the guards to let them down." Femke and Greetje moaned begging to be freed but still dreading their fate at the hands of Sarah.

"Let me get dressed, though," said Lauren. "I want to do it properly. I've looked it up. I'm supposed to wear a chanoosh. I intend to be a proper Kushtian councillor's wife."

"That's wonderful, Lauren," Brad said.

"No problem," Lauren said with a giggle. "Have you any idea what some of those ladies get up to?"

I headed back to the bar without bothering Brad. It was obvious that they'd be along shortly. We just had time to get Kushnati's present for Brad off of the van and stowed in the next room before Brad reappeared, leading his daughter by the hand. Clad in her chanoosh, she presented a perfect picture of Kushtian submissive womanhood with her eyes cast to the floor and her hands clasped modestly in front of her.

"Mr Koresh," Brad said. "I believe you have something to say."

Kushnati got to his feet unsteadily. He'd been drinking consistently for quite a while. He belched. He spoke carefully, evidently having memorised the English words. "Emir, I wish to take your daughter as my wife."

"Head Koresh," Brad responded with equal formality. He brought out a set of ceremonial manacles joined by a heavy chain. From where I was standing they looked as though they were made of gold. I later found out that they were. "Take my daughter as your wife," he said as he fastened first Laurens' left wrist and then her right. "Care for her as your favourite horse or hawk." He took Laurens hand and brought it together with Kushnati's gnarled fingers. "Let everyone here witness that this girl gives no word against this match." Lauren could have been gagged beneath the veil of the chanoosh but in fact she wasn't.