Chapter 71

Sasha and I worked on the accountancy company for most of the morning. Bee came in when we took a break at around eleven and spent nearly an hour with Sasha. That was fine with me because I had time to call a few of my people in London and set wheels in motion. We were going to buy out our current accountants. I wasn't sure how much it would cost me, but I wasn't hurting for a billion or two, so that shouldn't matter too much. Besides, I liked keeping my money in my own companies, makes more sense doing that I think.

Sasha was smiling, her lawyers smile, when she returned from looking at the documents Bee possessed. "The banks were just trying to browbeat her into submission. They know what they're doing is illegal, but it clears up a number of embarrassments that would cause them even more problems if it came out. And the FSA is in it with them. The FSA knows it didn't regulate the banks properly and that's part of the reason that the banks have these current problems."

"So what are you going to do?" I asked, I could see that my love was enjoying herself immensely.

"I'm gonna screw them to the wall." She kissed me and started unbuttoning my shirt. "I'm gonna," kiss, kiss, "fucking do them right up the back passage." She licked my nipple, "And you're going to do me up mine." That was an order.

Which I gladly obeyed.

I handed out the weapons that Trace had brought and they all laughed. They thought these toys were quite funny until I turned and smashed a clay target I'd fixed up earlier. Then they looked at my weapons with renewed respect.

I'd changed my plans a little though.

"Trace, how would you like to help us for a few days?" I asked her.

Almost overwhelmed by the chateau and our lifestyle she didn't really have a choice, "If I can, Mr Winters."

"Good. Our target will be looking out for an attack by English people and one stereotype that the French have of the English is that they're all pasty skinned. And as you can see, we're all fully tanned. So I need you to keep out of the sun for a week, I want you to be a decoy. I want Luc to see a pasty, white skinned girl who can't speak French. After we've finished I'll guarantee you a month here in the sun."

I could see that her greed took hold of her, a whole month living like a queen before she'd have to return to the back streets of Manchester.

Trace went back inside.

"Girl!" I yelled.

"Yes, my Master," answered Aline from just behind me.

"Get me Em."

"Yes Master," she answered as she ran off. I watched her retreating form as she ran, nice, very nice even. Not up to Umber's standard but Umber was special. But still nice.

Em came running out and knelt beside me.

"Em, dearest, please make sure that Trace has plenty of high factor sun block. I want her to stay a pale English rose until she gets to Cap d'Agde."

She smiled, "Yes my Master, I'll get her a few sun hats too."

"Thank you Em." I lifted her and we kissed, just a quick touch but warm and loving.

I turned back and went back to the other girls, "Now this is called 'walking the dog'," I said as I showed them one of the next things they'd learn.

Saying goodbye to Sara and Chantille was a bittersweet moment. I was sorry to see these two girls leave. While they'd spent most of their time with the band, we'd had good times together. And the generosity they'd shown to Cilla and Nigel was heart warming. It also meant that the band would be leaving soon; they had their concert to organise. They also had studio time to get in, new songs to record. Gerald and JJ had written three new albums while they'd been here. Now freed of Sydney's poisonous (literally) influences, they expected to have a much easier time during the preparations and actual performances than ever before. And they'd leave with a load of stage costumes courtesy of Karen, Sara and Chantille had some of Karen's less revealing outfits. They both thought that the new clothes were fabulous. I knew that Karen's reputation would go sky high when Sara and Chantille were photographed in her designs.

Quickly we settled down into a routine. Fitness training, working on our weapons skills and keeping our tans topped up. We needed to look as though we lived in Cap d'Agde.

Trace, though, stayed indoors or, when she did come out into the sun she'd slathered sun block on everywhere. She kept her sun hat on too. I was pleased to see that she was taking her part in our operation seriously.

Trace contacted her father daily, little details of timing and tactics were smoothed out. A wonderful piece of news came through from Chalkie's forward recon team. Malcolm liked little girls, very little girls. He'd often have one or two in the car with him while he was driven from place to place. They'd be on their knees between his legs pleasuring him during the drive. He very often took two because, carelessly he said, he kept suffocating them, holding them with his cock deep in their throat during his climax.

For us this was wonderful. The public didn't like men who killed small girls while he raped them. His reputation could be destroyed. Now Chalkie and his team just had to trick the car and set up the takedown. This was going to be something that Londoners, especially those who watched TV and had a brain, a vanishingly small percentage, had been warning about for years. Chalkie was going for 'The Bill' decoy.

My team, though I never called them that, were getting on marvellously. They'd all mastered the basics of my chosen weapon and had progressed to 'Round the World', a great improvement for all of them. Our drivers were having a great time too. They'd been on an advanced driving course and a specialist defence and evasion course. They were now practicing, and wrecking, on average, one car a day. Their driving though, had improved beyond all recognition.

Helen, Ross and Shannon, much to David's disappointment, left for London too. Ross and Helen were both practicing doctors and I'm sure that Shannon had a school somewhere whose teachers were waiting in dread of her returning.

This was the quiet time, the calm before the storm.

We all now know the storm is coming, but we've trained and practised. We feel we are ready.

Again, we will get our blows in first.

I lay by the pool, my lengths finished, thought I felt like I could do them again, Alina by my side, my brain in neutral. As the West Country saying goes, 'Sometimes I sits and thinks; sometimes I just sits.'

"Boss," Elastic's voice nudged my brain back into gear. I looked up at her. "We're getting a couple of visitors."

"We?" I asked.

Elastic smiled, "One for me, one for you."

"Who's mine?" I asked, only semi interested.

"Sir Jeffery Hiscock," Elastic said with a grin.

"WHO!"

"Hiscock, the Cabinet Secretary." Elastic was enjoying this way too much.

Now what the fuck did he want? Especially after the debacle with his predecessor.

"They're coming over by our charter company too. Their own jet this time though." Elastic sat beside me, just conveniently enough for me to slip my hand up her skirt. She was hot, wet and pantyless.

"Oh Boss!" she exclaimed, closing her legs.

I might have believed her indignation more had she closed them before I reached her sopping slit, rather than trapping my hand with fingers deep inside her. Sometimes I wonder who's been corrupting these girls.

"Who's your visitor?" I remembered to ask.

"Admiral Weston," she squirmed on my fingers a little, I think she's enjoying me doing this. "He's bringing some new trainees."

That was another problem, Elastic's girls were all serving Marines, they were sent to her for training. Elastic sent them back, not as graduates but as Marines fully ready to be instructors. I was really proud of Elastic. She, Gerry and Sandy made a great team.

"When are they arriving?" I asked.

"In an hour," She seemed very relaxed for an officer an hour before an inspection.

"Don't you have things to do, people to shout at, running round and stuff?" I asked. All of the officers I'd served under, with the notable exception of Aggie, had gone to pieces when told that a Flag Officer was on his way for an inspection.

"Nope, we're ready. Been ready for weeks." Elastic was confidant, very, very confidant. She was a superb officer and her girls were trained to perfection. I wonder if Poole, their home base, had a surprise when the girls started going back with some of Paula's unarmed combat training. I would have loved to see the male instructors when they had the shit knocked out of them by the little girlies.

"You know, it's about now that the training reports on your girls would be getting up to Aggie's desk." I said thoughtfully.

Elastic laughed, "Well if he wants a demo, we'll give him one." Reluctantly she pulled my hand from between her legs, "Want to come and watch them at the outer checkpoint?"

I stood up and followed her. She didn't mind me groping her bum as we walked.

The camera gave a view from the roof level of the guard shelter. The outer guard, a fairly new girl I'd met only a couple of times, looked alert; relaxed but very alert. The car stopped beside her, it had no choice as the gates were closed.

"Good afternoon Sirs, may I ask who you are visiting?"

Sir Jeffery leaned over from his seat, "I would like to visit Baron Glastbrooke if he's at home." He was politeness itself.

She turned to Aggie, "And you, Sir, who would you like to see?"

"I'm here to see your CO, Bands. And this is an inspection." Aggie growled. I was impressed; he'd got that pissed off Flag Officer thing down pat.

"Please may I see your ID card, Sir?" She was polite but firm, her meaning was inherent in her tone of voice, no ID, then piss off.

Aggie raised his side arm, a nasty looking revolver, and pointed it at her.

"No Sir, that's a revolver, an ID card is credit card sized and it has your picture on it together with your name and number." She paused and looked thoughtful, "And you don't put bullets into an ID card."

Aggie was taken aback by the girls attitude. After all it wasn't everyday that someone pointed a loaded hand gun at you. "Are you mad girl?"

"No sir, though I was wondering the same thing about you. You see I know that there are a number of very high powered rifles pointing at your head right now, and if your weapon discharges then I will be injured, I may die, but with something that age you'd be better off trying to beat me to death with it. You however will be dead within five seconds of the discharge. Whether you try to duck down under the seat or not, it won't change a thing." She almost sounded bored.

"Driver, drive on," Aggie waved him forward.

"Left wing mirror," the guard said conversationally. It promptly exploded as the high powered large calibre bullet tore through it.

"Would you like to lose any more bits off your car, Sir?" she asked Aggie, then politely waited for his reply.

Aggie looked at where the wing mirror used to be. "Was that Bosworth?" he asked.

The guard looked over at the other side of the car, "I do believe that the door is still on, so I would have to guess that Lt Bosworth didn't fire that round, Sir."

Aggie holstered his weapon and showed the guard his ID card, she smiled without making any joke about him getting it right this time, which I would have done.

She didn't even seem to look at it, "Thank you, Admiral Weston. Commander Bands is waiting for you in her office." In the short time she held it the ID card had been photographed and compared to a copy held in the computers in Centurion, the Naval pay and personnel base. I wasn't sure that the Centurion computer operations staff provided that service, still Karolina hadn't bothered to ask them anyway.

The gates opened and the driver slowly drove through.

The guard went back to doing what all guards learn to do, sometimes very well, waiting.

I turned to Elastic, "I'll leave you to it, I've got a Cabinet Secretary to meet.

I shook hands with Sir Richard and led him to a seat beside a coffee table. This version of my office had a lot more room than the last one and my girls had had fun fitting it out with what they thought a Master's office should have.

Sir Jeffery looked round, "Stocks and a St. Andrews cross, Baron?"

"My girls' sense of humour sometimes runs away with them." I replied.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I have a request to make of you from the Prime Minister and his Deputy."

I nodded, "Do I need my lawyer in here as well?" I asked.

He thought for a moment, "I do not think so, however I do not have any objection to her being here, nor would I object to you recording our conversation."

So he knew Sasha was my lawyer and probably guessed that I'd record our meeting. This man isn't the dummy he's portrayed as.

"I'll just get my assistant in; she'll take notes for me." I pressed a button on the phone, I don't know if that button actually did anything as I was depending on security to hear me. They must have done because Karolina stepped in a moment later. She was dressed very well, as one would expect of my secretary. She pulled up a chair and sat just behind me on my right.

"Now, Sir Jeffery, what can I do for you?" I asked.

"Spend money." He answered.

Well that was short and sweet. I waited for the kicker.

He smiled, "We, the UK, are suffering a horrendous recession. It is much worse than is currently being reported and if the true situation ever got out it is likely that a number of the previous administration might actually be lynched. While that does not appear to worry the current administration overly much, it would however set a bad precedence. The little remaining economy would, of course, disappear entirely."

I nodded, if the situation was as bad as he said then his request started to make sense. "So what do you want me to spend on?"

He laughed, "Almost anything that will stimulate the economy. Anything made in the UK would be best."

I sat back and thought, "Sir Jeffery, you are aware that I am in dispute with a number of the Cumbrian constabulary."

He laughed again, he seemed to enjoy that. "Well, officially Her Majesty's Government know nothing about your ... dispute." He rolled that word round his mouth savouring the sound, and possibly taste of the word.

"Young lady," he said looking to my left, "Melissa isn't it?"

I turned and looked, Menolly sat just behind me in Melissa's place.

If he knew who my usual bodyguard was then he obviously had very good sources of intelligence. But then again he did travel over with Aggie, and Aggie doesn't suffer fools at all.

"No," I answered for her, "this is Menolly."

He was charm itself, "Menolly, I am going to open my jacket and remove a memory card from the card pocket."

Menolly must have given him the 'go ahead' as he did so. He placed the SD memory card on the table between us. We all looked at it for a long moment. Then the door opened and one of Elastic's girls, dressed as a maid, came in with a small silver tray. She stood by Sir Jeffery, holding out the empty tray. Her meaning was obvious and Sir Jeffery placed the memory card on the tray.

I was sure that that card would be checked for fingerprints and DNA before being cloned in one of Karolina and Ela's stand alone PC's, what they called the quarantine machines.

"That card contains some information you may, or may not of course, have come across yourself. The ... activities ... of Sir Gerald, and a number of his colleagues has been troubling the present administration for some time. The previous administration seemed to have more to gain from Sir Gerald being in place, than not. However it is felt by all concerned that, especially with the current economic climate, more harm would result from forcing an official confrontation with Sir Gerald and his colleagues, than would result if a suitable irate citizen dealt with the problem him, or her, self." Sir Jeffery looked at me innocently, "If you know of some such citizen perhaps you could assist in any small way that you were able." That was a typical politician's answer. "However I cannot see that problem affecting the Governments original request in any way."