Chapter 17: An American Cousin

ACQUISITION ANXIETIES

"Igor Ivanovitch?"

"Da, Anatoly Sergeyevitch. A pleasure to speak with you again. How can I help?"

"A client has asked me to arrange some arrangements. A meeting and discussion with you would be helpful. This afternoon?"

"Da: where shall we meet?"

"Tverskaya?"

"Tverskaya, agreed."

It is 5 o'clock in the afternoon and, Doctor Mendeleyev arrives at Anatoly's office at the Red Square end of Tverskaya Ulitsa. Anatoly has arranged for tea and for a few moments the two men socialise until Anatoly abruptly puts his cup down and turns to business.

"A client has asked me to take the daughter of a business rival. A personal dispute. Something about unpaid debts. This is not my preferred work you understand. This is work for bailiffs, not for me. But, I have known him for a long time. There are obligations."

Mendeleyev knows better than to try to explore the reasons for Anatoly's indebtedness to his client. Instead he returns to the matter of the girl. "The abduction is a prelude to extortion? Or is it merely revenge?"

Anatoly snorts. "Actually, it's more a 'payment in kind'." The idea obviously is somewhat distasteful to him. "The proposal is to take the daughter and sell her as payment for the debt. A token payment, really. That just makes it acceptable. If it had just been merely an opportunity for extortion before returning of the girl, then I would have declined. I am not going to be involved in some grubby criminal act like that! Ransom is not my style."

"Quite so," Mendeleyev agrees. "You intend to take her into slavery, then?"

"Yes. Then to sell her on after training so that some of the financial matters can be resolved."

"Ah. And the problem?"

"Two problems. First; she is American. This increases the risks you understand. Others may be content to work far from their home in places where they cannot exercise influence but for me this has usually been unnecessary. The old Empire certainly. Europe, yes. But beyond? The problems become greater the further away you are geographically and culturally. Fortunately, she is working in Germany at present"

"And the other problem?"

"Second; It seems unethical." Mendeleyev nods. For others it might seem strange but Igor Ivanovitch knows that Anatoly's approach to his trade has a curious underlying morality. "She will suffer for the inadequacies of her father. This is almost certainly unfair. Of course I do not know if she has, in some way brought about her father's situation but that seems unlikely. He may – or may not - feel her loss. She will feel her change of circumstances very acutely. Her new life will not be an improvement on her former life. I prefer that the slave's new circumstances should be better than their old at least in some respects."

Mendeleyev listens as Anatoly rehearses his explanations. He knows he is not being asked for advice on this. He tries to turn the discussion to an area where he can assist. "So how can I help?"

"It is about when I bring her to the Dacha."

"You are not using your other facility?" Mendeleyev looks puzzled for a moment and then understanding dawns. "Of course you are using the Dacha to train Vyera. I had not thought you would use it for others."

"It would be preferable to use my main facility but I was thinking over your remarks about Vyera: giving her more responsibility. I wondered..."

"If it was appropriate to involve her with... ?"

" ... the new slave's training?"

"Precisely."

"Hmmmm". Doctor Mendeleyev fumbles with his pipe. He knows Anatoly does not approve of smoking and he does not light up. "Well ... perhaps. It will show what Vyera has learned. It will allow us to see how far her loyalties are to you and how far she feels for the new abductee. Then again, it will remind her about her own past life, now lost and her reflections will turn her eyes away from the future. Anatoly Sergeyevitch, there are both advantages and disadvantages here. May I reflect and reply to you in the morning?"

"Of course, old friend. I would rather have a careful answer, than a quick answer." Anatoly stares past Igor. Talking almost to himself, he says, "I suppose she does not have to know the reason for her abduction. Perhaps that would lessen the blow?" He turns back to his old friend. "Would you like me to have one of the staff drive you home?"

"Thank you Anatoly Sergeyvitch but I like to walk when I have a new problem. It is an aid to creativity."

A DANGEROUS WILD ANIMAL

In the night I heard someone screaming. It was an angry wailing screaming tirade. I listened hard to make sense of them and then I realised - the words were in English.

In the morning, Neena comes to get me from my cell. She has a black eye! I am appalled. How could someone do that? How could they have overpowered Neena or had her at such a disadvantage?

My surprise must be written all over my face. Neena answers my unspoken questions. "There is a wild animal in one of the adjoining cells. You are to help me subdue her. Come"

I follow her meekly. I notice she is dressed in very 'serious' clothes: her high black military boots, a military style tunic and her belt. Her hair is tied is a tight neat pony tail. We pause at a door, two down from mine, along the corridor. She turns to me and puts her fingers to her lips, motioning me to silence. She applies her eye to a peephole in the door – and waits, her right hand on the door handle and the left grasping the swipe card above the card reader which will unlock the door. In an instant, she has unlocked the door, burst into the room and taken her tazer from her equipment belt. She fires at a small red haired naked girl who has just turned bright angry blazing eyes towards her.

The girl grimaces and collapses, screaming and writhing onto the floor and lays there twitching.

"Come" Neena orders, "bring!"

She points to a small bag hanging on the corridor wall.

By the time I join her at the side of the stricken girl, Neena has rolled her over.

She up turns the bag and shiny metal cuffs fall out, a shiny silver colour and lined with black rubber.

"See: they fit like – this. Now you apply them to her anklets."

I follow orders. It doesn't occur to me to do otherwise. I snap the bands around the girl's ankles, feeding one end formed into a tongue into the opposite side which bears a thin recess and squeezing the band shut. It's not easy as the girl twitches in reaction to the tazer.

"Chain!'" Neena orders.

The anklets each bear a ring riveted to the side and I attach a length of chain with a small carbineer clip to each one which Neena locks shut with a special key. By the time the girl has stopped twitching she has been inescapably restrained: her hands restricted by the chain which passes behind her back and her legs hobbled by the chain between her anklets.

"This slave, who is called Pavea, has messed the floor, Vyera. There is a bucket and a wash cloth outside. Clean her up and help her to her bed" – Neena puts her face close to the girl's ear and says "– unless she would prefer the floor?'

Neena continues, whether for my benefit or for Pavea's benefit, I am not sure. "Pavea means small and humble. She is certainly small but not yet humble, which is to say she does not understand her place. Perhaps this first lesson will be helpful to her?"

Neena leaves the cell, banging the door.

TRANS-ATLANTIC STRAIGHT TALKING

I stand up, sigh, retrieve the bucket and return. This time, the door locks and I am trapped alone with Pavea, the dangerous wild animal.

I make to start to clean her up. In gratitude she snarls, "Get your black bitch hands off me - do you hear me? Huh? You people have got no right to keep me here."

I am completely taken aback. It's partly the spitting of the word 'black'. What on earth led her to say that? And It's partly the 'you people'; I'm like her, I'm not one of 'you people'. Can't she see that?

"Look," I reply, "you are covered with your own urine. Neena has chained your hands. I'm sure you would be much more comfortable if you would let me clean you up and clean your cell floor?"

"Well, just go and get the fucking key, unchain me and let me deal with myself on my own, stupid! That Neena bitch is going to be sorry when my Daddy finds her."

Pavea's outburst is so completely unrealistic I find myself giggling at the girl's invective but she has not finished.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No." I can't help my bluntly unsympathetic response. It's one of those expressions that has always made me feel completely uninterested in the person uttering it. Pavea of course, takes no notice.

"My name is Tracy Randolf. My daddy owns the Randolf Corporation, do you hear? When he finds you, - when he finds me - your ass is going to be on the line. You are going to jail, sister –you and that fucking Neena bitch Do you know, how long you go down for in Texas for kidnapping? Years! You're facing twenty years without parole! Minimum!"

She spits the words out once more. It's obviously mean to frighten me but it has the opposite effect. Twenty years. Is that all? Twenty years and then I could go home, Home to see my family, if I can find them. To see my parents if they are still alive. To see Joe, if he still wants me. All in only twenty years. My eyes start to water.

"Pavea, twenty years is a bargain, if you ask me. At the moment I am doing life without parole and without the privilege of visitors"

This seems to stop the silly girl in her tracks, but just for a moment until she recovers her bluster.

"My name you fucking black bitch is Tracy Randolf. Ms Tracy Randolf, not Pavea!"

I sigh once more. I know I said similar things once. How unrealistic I was! How Neena and her colleagues must have laughed at me. Even deep inside, day by day, it becomes more and more impossible to hold on to the person I was. Vyerka is like the sun rise on a frosty morning. Low in the sky and intensly brilliant, the glare making it impossible to be anything apart from Vyerka.

"Pavea. Neena has told me you are Pavea and as far as I am concerned, you are Pavea and if I get caught, calling you anything else apart from Pavea, my bum is going to be caned long and hard for disobedience and I can't see any reason so far, why I should put my bum at risk for you. Now will you please stand up and get cleaned and you can enjoy watching me wash your floor?"

Sulkily, Pavea gets up and I get to do as I have been told. I wipe her clean as gently as I can and then clean the floor

Pavea glares at me from her bed. " You've given in to them, haven't you? Well, we Americans never give in. We never give in 'til we've won and we always win in the end. Always. I am getting out of here, just you see."

"Best of luck", is all I can say in reply. Once I might have thought she could be right. Now I know she isn't.

AN OLD FASHIONED EDUCATION

Neena is back in the cell as soon as I have completed my given task. She must have been watching. I am so relieved I did not make common cause with Pavea and start calling her by her old name! As if in confirmation, Neena says: "Vyerochka! We are taking this creature to the punishment room!"

To which Pavea succinctly replies, "Go fuck yourself, bitch!"

Now she has been restrained, it's an easy task for Neena to pass a thick leather belt around Pavea's waist and attach a chain to it. She drags her out of the cell and along the corridor. It's a familiar route for me. We enter the room and, accompanied by volleys of invectives and expletives, Pavea is strapped over the punishment bench, her bum nicely displayed and completely vulnerable.

"Now, Pavea, Vyerochka can tell you lots of stories about her time in this room. I have wondered about how to deal with you. I thought of the whip and then of the cane and finally I decided to flay your skin with a birch. You will be birched to punish you for daring to strike me and to begin your education. You are a slave, Pavea, and slaves accept discipline!"

For all her abrasive unpleasantness, I have to admire Pavea. She glares back at Neena and spits out: "You, sister: you are going to jail – like her." She wags her head in my direction. "I tell you, the Law will find you wherever you are and I am so going to enjoy testifying at your trial."

"Vyerochka; I have heard enough of this nonsense. Gag her!"

I wrestle a heavy leather panel gag and harness over her head, clamping her jaws shut with the straps over her scalp and pressing the heavy stiff leather pad over her mouth by pulling the strap behind her head tight, too.

When Pavea has been silenced, and she has had her fill of trying to dislodge the gag by shaking her head, Neena squats down in front of her and meets her angry gaze directly. "Now, listen to me. Listen to me. There will be no trial because we are not in the United States.

If you go east or if you go west, we are separated from the United States by an ocean. You are here to learn some manners and to learn your place, a place in which you are a mere slave. You have also to learn a new language. Vyerochka will start your further education and teach you numbers and you will commit them to memory on pain of another birching." She pauses and stands up. "And now, I am going to begin and you are going to squeal."

With that Neena turns and grasps a generous bunch of birch twigs. They are green and whippy. She takes her stance and swipes the switch across Pavea's bum. Pavea's eyes immediately widen and she inhales sharply. It's clear that this will be an arduous few minutes. I am standing next to Pavea and merely say.

"One, but in your new language, Adeen!"

Neena swipes Pavea again. The birch is generously broad. It covers the whole of Pavea's buttocks with each stroke. Pavea sucks air in and her eyes widen once more as the twigs land. As she breathes out, she lets out the first squeal.

"Two, or as you should say now, Dva!"

Neeva paints Pavea's bum for the birch a third time. This time she is screwing her eyes up and beginning to pull against the straps which hold her implacably, presenting her buttocks perfectly. There will be no escape for her until she reaches whatever destination Neena has chosen.

"Three, in other words Trey".

Neena changes position. This time the birch will strike right to left instead of left to right. She carefully delivers three more strokes. She does not hurry, leaving Pavea just enough time to ride the wave of pain to the crest before urging her onwards, higher. But the time Pavea has 'enjoyed' six strokes she is sweating and mewling constantly.

Neena pauses and walks slowly round to face her directly. Once more, Pavea and Neena are eye to eye but it's only Neena who is speaking.

She lays a hand on her shoulder gently, almost encouragingly. "Now Pavea! Slaves must learn they will always be under discipline and they have to learn that quickly. I always like to see a new recruit gets a taste of punishment as soon as possible after their arrival. That was your first six strokes. You are a rude, bad tempered, headstrong girl who has struck her trainer. That is not going to be tolerated – do you hear me, Pavea?"