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In the world around us there are those that will prey on the weaker, the unprepared, the vulnerable. In pursuit of their own desires or seeking to profit from the desires of others there are always those whose acts are hard for us to understand.
Once more, it is October 2009. Angela is trying to balance her teaching responsibilities and research projects, spurred on by the Dean’s ambitions for the academic standing of the University; Joe McEwan is planning his trip to Cambodia in a month’s time; Jenny McEwan is trying to digest the results of her summer research and Freddie Clegg and Larry are still musing on potential advantages which Inward Bound might bring to their principal, clandestine business.
‘And from far away, minds immeasurably more determined than our own, were looking down on a young woman and slowly and surely they drew their plans against her...’
(With apologies to H.G. Wells…)
Tales From a Far Country is the third episode in the story of the relationship between Jennifer McEwan, an adventurous academic who is studying BDSM games and adult play behaviour and her husband Joe, a civil engineer who is anxious about his wife’s sexual interests and where they might lead. “Tales From A Far Country” is the sequel – well actually a “simulquel” - to our last story, “Such Sweet Sorrow” and explains what happens to Jennifer after her mysterious disappearance.
If you are a new reader, this short resume will help you understand what is going on!
The tale began in our first story ‘Thesis’, when Professor Angela Dawney, Jennifer’s Head of Department and her research supervisor persuaded Jenny to enroll in a consensual slave training programme organised by the adult experience and adventure company, Inward Bound. Angela claimed this would be an excellent psychological laboratory for Jennifer to persue her research but secretly, the Professor hoped to drive a wedge between Jennifer and her husband and win Jennifer’s affections for herself.
Inward Bound has received investment from what purports to be an international transport business called Freddie Clegg Enterprises but is in fact the front organization for Clegg’s highly illegal abduction and slavery operation. Freddie Clegg Enterprises also have hopes for Jennifer’s research - to help them identify and recruit willing victims.
Angela, anxious to use Jenny’s experiences for her own benefit at the earliest opportunity, almost sabotaged Jenny’s participation at Inward Bound. The effect of this was to disturb the ever paranoid Clegg organisation which led to Jenny and Angela experiencing what they imagine to be a CIA inspired “rendition”. This claimed to be an investigation into Internet Crime but was really an attempt to discover if they were were actually in the pay of Clegg’s arch Russian competitor, Anatoly Kustensky who, by an innocent but most unfortunate coincidence, is an old friend of Professor Dawney.
In the end Jenny completed her course at Inward Bound and returned home, marked emotionally, physically and psychologically by her experiences. She realised that she cannot suppress her desires, and wished more than ever to share her lifestyle preferences with her husband.
The second part of the story - ‘Such Sweet Sorrow” - takes place in the months which follow, when Angela has the opportunity to tell the tale of her ‘rendition’ and interrogation to her friend Anatoly Kustensky.
One bright day in London, as Jennifer makes her way to a medical library to pursue her research, she vanishes and despite an extensive and energetic police investigation and the efforts of Joe and her parents, no trace of her can be found.
What has happened to Jennifer? What trials and adventures have befallen her?
Now read on – or start from the beginning by reading “Thesis” and “Such Sweet Sorrow”!
Jenny McEwan: a doctorate student at a University in the English Midlands, studying psychology with a research focus on adult play and the role of BDSM, who mysteriously disappeared in “Such Sweet Sorrow”.
Joe McEwan: her husband, a man less than comfortable with his wife’s sexual interests and where they have led her.
Professor Angela Dawney: Jenny’s research supervisor and erstwhile lover.
Cathy Corbin: Jenny’s best friend and college companion
Freddie and Larry: principals in the highly illegal slaving organization, Freddie Clegg Enterprises, part owners of Inward Bound “adult playground” where Jenny has been conducting her research. (To learn more of them read “Market Forces”)
Anatoly Kustensky: arch eastern European competitor of the Clegg Organization who sees himself as the market leader in the field
Sveta Kustenskaya: Anatoly’s wife and perhaps the ‘power behind the throne’
Neena Kirova: trusted lieutenant of Anatoly and Sveta
Alana Kustenskaya: only child of Anatoly and Sveta
Also: many mysterious and dangerous members of the Kustensky Organisation
Chapter footnotes: Our readers tell us they like them but we have tried to keep these to a minimum and have included some to help readers follow the narrative more easily or to explain ‘idioms’ which might not be familiar to everyone.
TALES FROM A FAR COUNTRY
CHAPTER 1 THE HUNTER OF TVERSKAYA
Anatoly is a hunter, he enjoys the wild places, the pursuit of game; of birds and fish. But Anatoly has another, favourite prey. For him, the best quarry of all is homo sapiens urbis: the only species that provides what he considers a true match for his resourcefulness and cunning.
And because the sport does not end with a kill, there is the shock and dismay of capture to enjoy; the entertainment to be had from careful training and schooling until the prey accepts the life that Anatoly has chosen for it.
Tverskaya Ulitsa is one of Moscow’s busiest streets. Throughout the day, the traffic pours down from the west into the city centre. It’s full of people and that provides an excellent cover for Anatoly. He has an office and apartment just by the junction of Tverskaya and Bryusov Pereulok. Visitors, anonymous in the crowds, can slip in and out of his building and he can enjoy the peace and serenity of the garden square at the rear.
Anatoly looks at his watch. The fruits of his most recent hunting trip are “enjoying” his hospitality at his facility outside Moscow. They will be meeting their new owner just about now, realising that there’s more to their abduction than kidnapping for ransom or some political game.
It had been an unusual commission. Three Slavic types, sallow skin, with some “presence”, the request had said. To Anatoly, the candidates that his research team had found looked homely if he was being polite, but the client had approved. He’d spent a long time picking over the research papers and surveillance photos before making his choice. Anatoly had seen the girls just after they’d been picked up. The way that the ropes grooved into their flesh as they struggled held a strange fascination. Perhaps that was what he client liked. “We’re going to need heavier gear if we make a habit of picking up targets like this, boss,” the leader of the pickup team had said. Anatoly had smiled. They’d clear a good profit by keeping this client happy.
Being overweight is not as common in Russia as it is in some western countries. Anatoly had been worried that the targets were perhaps somewhat out of condition? Sure, it was what the client asked for, but what would others think? Still, if the client wanted girls with some “presence”, that’s what he should get. The customer is always right, so they say, but not necessarily exactly right. Perhaps the “presence” should be muscle, not fat? A shot-putter, not a couch potato. Such a transformation would take time, Anatoly thought, but it could be done and it was more in his style. After all, he had a reputation to keep up. The client would have to wait for his prizes.
Now that decision is made, Anatoly turns to another challenge. He has a more exacting project - a more rewarding project - to think about.
Today he meets his hunting party for the next outing. It’s the preliminary meeting to discuss where they will find their prey; the chase; the capture and the transportation to Anatoly’s estate outside the city. They review electronic surveillance of the subject: landline and mobile phone call transcripts, e-mail traffic and a swatch of recent photographs taken by one of Anatoly’s advanced party, already on the ground. They consider the possible movements of their quarry and pay particular attention to some of the photographs. She has quite a striking appearance but they still want to be sure. There are pictures showing her alone, with others, serious, smiling and laughing, at work and shopping in town.
There is no substitute for being thorough. Anatoly’s former career in the KGB has stood him in very good stead. He smiles when he thinks how in recent years, government agencies have been able to cooperate so much more effectively with businessmen in private enterprise. It has brought so many practical advantages. Anatoly cannot understand why some of the western governments try to place such rigid and impermeable walls between state organisations and business enterprises.
Still, he thinks, their loss is my advantage …. And he needs an advantage if he is going to get his next prey from Britain to Russia.
Transportation can often be a problem, especially if an item is coming from outside the Russian Federation. There are customs formalities; inspections, audit trails – too many opportunities for unexpected problems to arise. The last commercial transaction with the Clegg Organisation had made the use of airfreight risky. That particular “export” involved the supposed repatriation of the last mortal remains of a young lady who was not quite as deceased as might normally be expected for the occupant of a casket. (1) There had been “problems” when she was found. Anatoly suspected that Clegg or someone in his organisation was responsible for warning the police that something was going on. It was too soon to try that again, at least from the United Kingdom.
On the other hand, what about a medical repatriation? Anatoly knows that the ill can travel under sedation if necessary, with a nurse to accompany them and perhaps the nurse might also be a guardian, even a minder? Perhaps that offers a solution? He calls a trusted colleague.
“Artur!” Anatoly’s greeting is spirited. He and the Doctor shared some interesting experiences in past years. Anatoly has respect for Hahn’s thoroughness and reliability. Artur Hahn is an Orthopaedic Surgeon from Liepzig in Germany, actually the former communist East Germany. Hahn had pursued a dual career in medicine and in the Stasi. That was how their paths had first crossed. Now, thanks to new regulations which establish the free movement of labour and the mutual recognition of medical qualifications across all member states, Hahn can work anywhere he wishes in the European Community. At present he is in London, convenient for Anatoly’s current problem.
“âîëê!” the Doctor exclaims. It’s good to hear from the old wolf. “Are you hunting again, Anatoly?”
“You know me,” he replies disarmingly, “how can I do otherwise? It’s like they say, ‘However well you feed the wolf, he still looks at the woods.’.”
Sure, thinks Hahn, that’s Anatoly all over. “How can I help?”
“Suppose you had a patient who had an accident.”
“Hypothetically?”
“Of course. And this hypothetical patient needed to return here to Mother Russia. How difficult would that be? How much – scrutiny – might you expect?”
“It depends,” Artur replies, “on how ill the patient is and how they travel. If their return is being funded through their travel insurance, they will be accompanied by a doctor nominated by the insurers and the insurers will arrange all the flights. The doctor will visit the patient first and make an assessment of their fitness to travel. They much prefer if the patient is well enough to take a scheduled flight. If the patient is transferred by Air Ambulance, a doctor from the ambulance company will visit the patient in the UK to assess the situation and then contact the hospital the patient is being taken to. They may even visit the destination hospital first to discuss the management of the patient in the days before transfer. When transfer arrangements are confirmed, the air ambulance team will take charge of the patient at every stage of their journey from the UK hospital to the destination hospital in Russia.” Artur can almost sense Anatoly’s dissatisfaction with the answer. “I imagine this is not good news. Not quite what you were hoping for?”
“You are right, Artur. It is a very disappointing answer.”
“Do not despair, old friend. You have set me an interesting problem. They have a saying in Britain – ‘Where there is a will, there is a way!’ Leave this with me and I shall see what I can do. Things are not always as difficult as they may appear at first sight.”
It is only a few days later when Dr Hahn contacts Anatoly once more with his thoughts on Anatoly’s problem and some proposals to solve it. It seems that a hunting expedition is a practical possibility. Anatoly is pleased. Artur has shown once more how ingenuity and persistence can overcome obstacles.
A plan and a schedule are agreed. The hunting party will be resident one week before they act. They will remain in constant contact with Anatoly who will provide a four times daily update of the quarry’s activities and projected movements, as gleaned from Anatoly’s continuing, electronic monitoring and surveillance.
It’s Friday. It’s a regular day at the university. I bump into Cathy as I get into the college building. She shakes her head. “Oh dear, Jenny McEwan are you in trouble!”
She’s not serious, I can tell by the way she’s smiling at me.
“The Prof is looking for you. Said she was reviewing your project with you this morning.”
Cathy’s right. I am calling to see Professor Dawney but I’m not due in her office for another twenty minutes.
Dawney is my research supervisor. She likes to keep in touch with what’s happening on the project. I like to make sure she doesn’t get involved in it any more than is necessary.
There is a shared history between us and a tension that neither of us likes to acknowledge. I suppose Angela blames me and I blame her for the things which happened. Neither of us wants to let the other know our true feelings. In any case, my life has moved on. I am not interested in Angela any more. I’m not sure that the reverse is true.
“Well, Jenny, how are you getting along?” Professor Dawney exudes uncomplicated, professional, coolness. I suspect that she has other interests in the project but I’m happy if she wants to pretend that it is all just another, ordinary, piece of academic research.
“I’m quite pleased with progress.” I reply, keeping my true feelings in check, submerging them under the minutiae of my project activities and the politeness of professionalism. “Data collection is complete and I have been able to send the data capture forms to Data Prep, to be coded, cleaned and entered into SPSS(2). Once that’s done it won’t be long before I have the descriptive statistics and we will then get some idea of what analytical work we can do …..”
“Jenny, that’s excellent.” Dawney seems perfectly happy to focus on the project: “I’m pleased. The project is really beginning to gather some momentum.”
“I think so. It certainly looks like that.” I am keen to take advantage of the Professor’s apparent approval. “Er, next week Joe is going abroad: would it be OK with you if I had an away-day in London to see him off? Andy says he can cover my undergraduate tutorials and there are some references I would like to follow up at the Royal Society of Medicine. They have some hard copy journals that our library does not take. I think it will be quicker to take advantage of Joe’s trip than arranging an inter-library loan or asking the RSM(3) to send photocopies.”
“Jenny, of course. That would be just fine. Enjoy the trip – let’s get together again after the weekend and when you’ve got the first results back from the data.”
Dawney seems happy to have the chance to grant me a favour. She likes to build up credits with her students.
I smile in acknowledgment: “Thanks. By the way, how was your Russian trip?”
“Oh, fine. Chance to meet some old friends. That seems so long ago now! I’ve had a lot on my mind for the past few months ...”
Prof looks a little wistful. It’s very uncharacteristic but the moment doesn’t last long. She’s soon back to the one thing she talks about best: work. “Some interesting new research going on too. I’ll let you see the proceedings if you like; some of the methods which were under discussion might be relevant when you come to analyse your data.”
“Mmm,” I say noncommittally. I’m not keen to give Angela more of an opportunity to involve herself in the detail of the project than necessary.
I leave Angela’s office feeling happy. I am going to have the opportunity for a last day out with Joe. That will be a good way to send him off.
It is Saturday. Anna Tereshkova arrives at London’s Heathrow Airport using a passport in the name of Vyera Kuznetsova. She is visiting some friends near Windsor. She’s looking forward to some riding. Her friends have stables near Englefield Green. They spend a fine Sunday afternoon galloping in Great Park; by the end of the day, she’s hot. Her tee-shirt beneath her body protector is soaked in sweat, her hair beneath her riding cap, plastered down against her scalp. By the time she has the horse back in the stables it’s not clear which smells more of horse, her or the stables.
As she emerges from the stable block a Mercedes people carrier pulls up. Doctor Hahn gets out. “Anna,” he greets her.
“I think you should say ‘Vyera’, shouldn’t you?” she responds teasingly.
“Of course. Has your accident caused you much pain?”
Anna / Vyera grins. “Not so far, but now you mention it, Doctor, I think I am beginning to suffer some considerable discomfort.”
“Well, in that case. Perhaps we should take you to hospital – they are expecting us. First, though, we have some work to do!”
In the kitchen, Anna strips off her jacket and shirt and begins to make ready. There are various preparations to be made: some are rather exotic and others require a considerable degree of technical precision. When she is ready, Hahn swabs her arm and her back to one side of her lumbar spine with alcohol. He takes blood from her arm and re-injects under the skin to the right of her spine, together with a little normal saline solution. When he has finished, Anna really is in some discomfort. He helps her into his vehicle, reclining the seat and strapping her in. Hahn regularly uses a private hospital close to Lords Cricket Ground. It’s a significant distance from Windsor and Anna is now very glad when the journey is over.
“What did you say that patient’s name was, Dr Hahn?” the Admissions Sister asks. (4)
“Kuznetsova,” Hahn replies, “Vyera Kuznetsova. She has had a fall from a horse and I think she has bruised muscles in her back: there could also be damage to some of the transverse vertebral processes. Perhaps even a fracture. We should make her comfortable and keep her under observation tonight at least. I would like to do some tests to ensure that she can travel but of course her family would like her to return home as soon as is safe.”
By the mid morning on Monday, physical examination shows bruising beginning to appear lateral to Anna’s lumbar spine, exactly as one might expect from Dr Hahn’s initial diagnosis.
Standard x-rays do not confirm a fracture, but the swelling in the area has reduced the clarity of the image.
All in all, the clinical evidence tends to confirm Dr Hann’s suggestion of muscle damage with perhaps an un-displaced fracture of at least one of the transverse vertebral processes – and Anna is clearly in discomfort when she moves. However, with no neurological symptoms such as numbness or paraesthesia or loss of motor nerve function, there is not enough to justify more searching investigation like CT and MR scanning. (5) The treatment is rest, analgesics, careful mobilisation and physiotherapy.
Recovery will take some weeks and the Doctor’s proposal – to send Vyera back home under sedation to control the discomfort of the journey seems completely reasonable.
Vyera’s family has arranged a private flight back and Dr Hahn, as a friend of the family, arranges to transfer her to the airport assisted by one of his medical colleagues and one of his practice nurses.”
London’s main commercial airports - Heathrow, Stanstead, Luton and Gatwick, are all very busy. They deal primarily with scheduled commercial flights and air freight. In recent years private international flights have been redirected elsewhere, including to new facilities at a former military airfield between Camberley and Aldershot, close to the south western edge of London. On Monday, the duty manager at the airfield receives a call from a Doctor Artur Hahn. He is an orthopaedic surgeon, or so he says. He is caring for a Russia national who has had a riding accident whilst on holiday in Windsor. She has possibly suffered fractures of some of the transverse processes of her lower spinal vertebrae and needs to be flown home under sedation and medical supervision. Fortunately the family has been able to charter a private jet which is presently at the airport. Hahn thinks the patient will be fit to fly on Tuesday. Can he arrange the details with the airport medical officer? He mentions the hospital where he works, leaves his mobile number and the number of his rooms. (6)
The duty manger passes the enquiry on to the medical officer. She knows the hospital but she’s never had any dealings with Hahn. It’s a bit of a coincidence though - she was chatting with some of the other airport staff a couple of days ago and one of them mentioned him. Who was it? Oh yes – one of the admin people. She was saying that she’d been referred to him and did anyone know anything about him?
The Medical Officer is a cautious, meticulous woman. She checks the hospital number from the internet and calls back, asking to speak to Dr Hahn. The MO wants to make sure that this is a genuine call and that the doctor actually is who he claims to be. She returns the call to the doctor’s hospital, not to the numbers given to the duty manager.
The line buzzes. The call is answered.
“Airport Medical Officer speaking. Can I have a word with Dr Hahn. Returning his call to me.”
“Ah …” the secretary pauses “… I’m afraid he’s not here at the moment. Can I Help? er – is it about the Russian girl?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Of course. I can give you his mobile number. Get back to me if you can’t reach him.”
The number corresponds to the number given to the airport duty manager.
The MO is feeling more confident now, but first calls back to the hospital and asks to be put through to the nursing team caring for Dr Hahn’s patient. They confirm the details of the patient and the tentative diagnosis of the patient’s injury adding that the patient really does seem to be in some real discomfort. They also offer her a number for Dr Hahn’s mobile. It is the same number left for her by Dr Hahn and also given to her by his hospital secretary. Next the MO calls Dr Hahn himself on the mobile number she has verified. Hahn is absolutely charming and only too happy to provide her with all the information she asks for. The MO is completely reassured. She looks forward to helping in any way she can.
On Tuesday morning, Joe and I leave our home in Warwick to catch the train for London. Joe has a meeting with the consulting engineers working with his employers on a new project in Cambodia. Joe and the project the team are then travelling on to link up with their Korean partners in Seoul. The London engineers maintain a smart office in Fitzroy Square. It’s not far from the Royal Society of Medicine where I am going but first I have plans to visit a rather swish leather tailors in Marylebone High Street, not far away!
We catch the 9.49 from Warwick and arrive in London for 11.30. Joe hails a taxi and we head off to a Venetian restaurant that Joe knows in Wigmore Street. He asks the taxi to take his luggage on to the office in Fitzroy Square so we don’t have to worry about it.
Together, we enjoy a leisurely lunch. But then it’s almost time for Joe’s meeting. We stroll hand in hand, enjoying the closeness of each other’s bodies and the warm and simple reassurance of holding hands.
All too soon we are standing alone in Fitzroy Square. Just the two of us. “I do hate it when you have to go Joe”, I say. There is a hard lump in my tummy.
“Yes, I know you do,” he replies, looking across at the office building. “The rest of the boys must have arrived.” I am pleased about that. I don’t want to have to share Joe with them while we try to enjoy our last moments before he has to go.
We embrace tightly ….
“Just four weeks,” he says.
“I know,” I reply. “I’ll make sure I get ahead of schedule so there’s plenty of time for us when you get back.
OH, I do hate going. A few weeks ago, I was really looking forward to this trip. Now ….. well, let’s just say I am not”
“Yes, I hate you going too...”
“Look it’s time.”
“I know.”
We hug tight, kiss and part. Joe turns one last time on the threshold of the office door. I smile. He waves one last time. I blow him a kiss.
He smiles broadly and turns away.
Now it’s my turn to leave. I know have the appointment at the leather shop but I feel flat inside. The zest has gone out of the project just now. Maybe I should just go to the medical library? No: I have made the appointment. It will be a sexy surprise for Joe when he gets back and when I think about Joe coming back, I start to feel much better!
“Anatoly Sergeyevitch?” (7)
“Thank you Neena Alexandrovna, Good luck!”
“Vehicle?”
“Check!”
“Electronic jamming?”
“Check!”
“Lookout?”
“Check!”
“Team: stand by. Target in sight. On my mark ….”
Neena Kirova brings her team to full readiness and waits for her moment. She is delighted that Anatoly Sergeyevitch Kustensky has chosen her to be “Field Commander” for this particular hit! “Neena,” he said. “This is may be a challenge but I think you can meet it. You have exactly the right qualities to be successful.” Neena has been working for Anatoly for three years now. She was recruited into the Security Division of Anatoly Kustensky Enterprises after she left the Army. She is delighted to know that her hard work had been noticed and that Anatoly is trusting her with a difficult and important project. She has been so looking forward to it!
Neena watches them from across the Square. The buildings remind her of home – that’s St Petersburg, where she was brought up. The target and her husband stand on the steps to the office where he has a meeting. They must be saying goodbye. It’s going to be more of a “goodbye” than either of them realise. They kiss, hug and embrace one last time. She turns. He begins to enter the building. He turns and waves. She blows him a kiss. “Oh dear,” thinks Neena. Even so, Russians have a romantic, sentimental streak and there is something about this final farewell which softens Neena. But she must put tender feelings resolutely to one side. It’s time to get things under way. She says into her microphone: “Quarry out from cover, moving and vulnerable. Begin operation!”
Anatoly reaches over to his computer and launches a surveillance programme. Think of Google Earth but a fully developed military version, operating in real time. The screen opens and Anatoly enters the target coordinates. The globe rotates, until it is centred over London and then the ground rushes up. Anatoly shuts his eyes: it’s a sequence that always makes him feel sick. When he looks at the screen again, he sees London on a glorious cloudless autumn day. Three sets of cross-hairs mark Neena, the vehicle and the lookout. He pours himself a whisky and watches.
Neena and her Team know the Target’s intentions from the electronic surveillance they have carried out. It’s not hard to predict to her route. The most direct route to both the Royal Society of Medicine and the leather shop in Marylebone High Street is to leave Fitzroy Square at its south west corner, walk into Cleveland Street and turn right into New Cavendish Street.
The plan is simple. Neena will follow the Target for some minutes after she leaves her husband. Neena will call the Target on her mobile number and claim to be speaking from the Engineer’s Office. She has rehearsed her lines until they are second nature to her: Is that Mrs McEwan? Oh I am so glad I have caught you. My name is Neena. It’s about your husband. He has slipped down a flight of stairs in the office. We think he has broken his ankle. We have called an ambulance and thought you would want to be with him. Can you wait for me and I will come to you? Look out for a black Mercedes People Carrier and wave when you see us. They expect that Jenny will cooperate fully and after the touching scene on the office steps a few moments ago Neena is feeling even more confident. As soon as Jenny has finished speaking on her mobile, the vehicle crew will transmit a jamming signal to disable the handset and prevent any further calls. The vehicle will stop, Neena approach Jenny and introduce herself. Once inside the vehicle, events will take quite a different course to that which Jenny expects. How ironic that she will deliver herself into the hands of her own abductors! Simple plans are always best – and safest for all concerned. Even for the Target. (8)
The Target follows New Cavendish Street heading west, just as they anticipated. She looks at her watch – and starts to walk faster. She must think she will miss her appointment.
“Vehicle Crew? I am calling the target. Stand by to jam the handset as soon as she agrees to meet us.”
But before Neena can call Jenny’s number, they see Jenny takes her mobile phone and starts to speak! Neena and her colleagues can eavesdrop on her conversation. The Team are appalled to hear Joe’s voice!
“Joe? Hi!” she says.
A man’s voice now. “The boys were held up in traffic! They are just arriving, so I thought I’d snatch a final call.”
“That’s nice.”
“Did you get to the library yet?”
“Aha, well I’m afraid I’m being just a little bit naughty ….”
The Target is crossing Portland Place. It’s very busy with fast moving traffic. She’s obviously distracted by her husband’s call. There is a man emerging from the taxi and he doesn’t see her. For goodness sake, she is going to get herself run over if she carries on like this!
The two of them collide. Her mobile spins from her hand and crashes to the pavement. Her call breaks up in a hiss and crackle of static.
The man carries on without, apparently, taking the trouble to apologise and dives into the office building adjacent. The Target looks at his back, as he disappears, shaking her head at his rudeness. She picks up the phone. By the way that she’s prodding at it, the phone has probably made its last call. She shakes her head again and then slowly resumes her journey.
As she walks on, she is still trying to get her phone to work but without any signs of success. She’s getting closer to her destination. She pushes the phone back into her bag.
Her husband’s intervention has changed everything. The story Neena intended to tell the Target is now completely implausible. She can’t claim that Joe has suffered an accident because Jenny and Joe have just spoken to one another! The whole plan is collapsing in ruins before their very eyes …
The Target is now only a few hundred metres away from the end of New Cavendish Street; Neena must either abandon the hit or use the back-up plan.
She calls the vehicle and tells the driver to stop the vehicle somewhere along the street ahead of the Target, but before she reaches her destination.
Anatoly has been following the progress of the operation from his office in Moscow, using satellite surveillance data and the position of the Team positions marked by continuous telemetry. He chooses this moment to remind them that he is watching!
“Neena?”
“Da, Anatoly Sergeyevitch!”
“Well?”
“The main street is relatively quiet. The target is distracted by the shops. I recommend a final attempt. Look-out? Where are you now?”
“There is parking on the north side of the street in two hundred metres!” replies the Look-Out, “I am moving the motor bike into the space now. Vehicle? I will move off as soon as you arrive.”
“Be cautious: there is always another day”, says Anatoly. He sounds calm but he is grinding his teeth at the thought of all the preparations so carefully made, all coming to nought. Dr Hahn, Anna Tereshkova, the electronic surveillance, the aeroplane – and what will Sveta say when she finds how much has been spent on what is becoming a complete fiasco?
Meanwhile, the Target saunters along, she’s not far from the leather shop now and she’s caught up time. She’s glancing in the windows of the shops she passes; enjoying the walk and the day.
“Launching final attack. Stand by”.
The Target walks past a newsagents shop. There is an old woman emerging and in the way but Neena bumps past her. It is the last opportunity they will have. This is the moment to be bold. “Please! Could you help me?” Neena calls to Jenny . Neena does her best to look panicked. She fumbles in my bag and looks desperately at Jenny.
Jenny is startled to see a girl of about her own age, in such a distressed condition. To some extent Neena is acting her role but some of her performance is given an extra “edge” by the very real stress she is under! “I am diabetic,” Neena continues urgently. “I think I am going hypo. I can’t find my glucose. My car is just up ahead. Can you get me there safely? I have glucose and insulin there and the rest of my kit ….”
For a moment the Jenny is lost for words.
Neena continues to fumble in her bag. She repeats, “…..please?”
Jenny’s natural kindness and generosity comes into play. Despite her imminent appointment she is only too willing to help. “Yes, of course! Look, do you want to stay here? If you have a mobile, perhaps we should call an ambulance?” she says.
Her reply makes Neena feel almost guilty and yet it also confirms that Neena and her Team are going after exactly the right person:
“Thanks but I am sure I will be fine if I can just sort myself out. Just up the street ….” Neena gestures weakly in the direction of the vehicle.
Jenny puts her arm around Neena “Of course”, she says. “Which one is your car?”
“It’s the black people carrier. On the opposite side of the street ….”
Jenny can see the Mercedes. It really is quite close. The two of them walk on unsteadily.
“What do you think is the matter?” Jenny asks. “I thought if you were on insulin, you got to know how to look after yourself pretty well?”
“Yes, most of the time I’m fine but I was up too early. It’s been a really busy day and I have not had enough to eat. I will be just fine if I can get some glucose into me”
They reach the vehicle and Neena fumbles with the key.
Jenny says, “Here. Let me help”
She takes the key and presses the key fob to unlock the vehicle. There is a large sliding door in the side and two rows of passenger seats, facing one another.
Neena climbs into the middle row, facing the rear of the vehicle. Jennifer follows her in, anxious to see the crisis resolved safely and takes a seat in the rear of the vehicle, facing forwards.
“Can you close the door? I’m feeling cold ….” Neena tells her and she starts to fumble with her bag once more - and manages to drop a syringe on the floor.
Oh what a sweet moment! What marvellous relief! Now she has reached this point, Neena knows she will succeed. In spite of having to alter their plan once the operation was in progress …. Just take these last few steps carefully. The trap is almost closed!
Jennifer leans forward, sliding the door shut, increasingly concerned about her new companion. She should be concerned, but not in the way she thinks! Jenny stretches her hand forward to grasp the syringe …..
By the time she straightens up, Neena has undergone a miraculously transformation – and she is holding a weapon a few inches from Jenny’s body!
It’s a horrific turn of events. Just a moment ago, I was walking down a sunny street and the next I’m in terror of my life.
I can’t believe my eyes. The girl I have helped is holding what looks like a gun at me! When she speaks, her voice has become cruel and menacing. “First, don’t make even one sound. This is a Taser. If I fire it, you will get an electric shock big enough to knock you on the floor. It can make you vomit and piss yourself. Some people even go into cardiac arrest. Would you like that?”
I cannot grasp what’s happening. I stare speechless at the person who, a few moments ago was appealing to me for help and is now threatening me. I shake my head, my mouth open in shock. She must surely be able to read the surprise, disbelief and horror I feel?
“Good girl. There is tape on the seat next to you. It’s sticky side up. Put it across your lips. Smooth it down. Properly … There! … Well done!”
I am stunned. I don’t know what to think. Is this some dreadful re-run of my CIA arrest? (9) It’s almost like something the Inward Bound people would organise.
It’s that thought that wins through. This must be some elaborate game that Corinne has thought up. Corinne and Gaspazha Ylena have done this. This girl even has an accent like Gaspazha’s. Perhaps they are trying out a new “kidnap scenario” on me, to pay me back for the clandestine research I did on them, when I first went to Inward Bound? Well, it’s very convincing. I do just as I am told.
“Take this cuff. Place it round your right wrist … good … and now clip the other cuff to the ring on the chair … good! You really are obedient aren’t you?”
I continue to do exactly as she tells me. I am transfixed with fear at the site of the Taser and it’s only the thought that somehow Inward Bound has something to do with this that let’s me function at all. My body meekly follows the instructions being handed out whilst my mind seems to stand idly by.
As I bend to clip the cuff to the seat arm, the girl launches herself forward and in an instant, she has wrapped a wide band of Velcro strapping over my free arm. She loops a second Velcro strap around my cuffed arm. “Almost done! We don’t want to hurt your wrists.”
The girl’s ironic tone chimes with my idea that this is something to do with Inward Bound. That’s just the way they would think. The girl takes a third Velcro strap and wraps it round my calves and slips a noose which must have been waiting beneath the seat, around my ankles. It prevents me kicking my legs forward. Finally, the girl takes the car seat belt and secures me to the seat …….
In less than 90 seconds, I have gone from a Good Samaritan to helpless prisoner.
The girl sits back in her own seat and smiles contentedly. I sense that there is almost some relief in the girl’s demeanour. “I am very pleased to meet you Vyera! You have been acquired for new work. My name is Neena. We are going to get to know each other really well!”
My brain begins to come back to life at last. Vyera? Who on earth is that? She must think I’m someone else. With that thought I start to panic. Perhaps this isn’t something to do with Inward Bound, at all. Who is this Neena? Some psychopath? Does she really have diabetes and is the diabetes beginning to affect her mind?
I start to mew and shake my head and writhe in the seat, trying to break free, trying to tell this Neena that I am not called Vyera. The girl sees the change in me as my compliance gives way to struggles against the pull of her cuffs. “Don’t struggle, Vyera,” she says. “This car has tinted glass. We can see out but they,” she nods her head towards the passers by on the pavement, “cannot see in. Now, I am going to give you something to make you feel much better.” She takes a pair of scissors. To my dismay she cuts a slit in my jeans. For goodness sake! Doesn’t she know how much these cost? These are my best pair! Joe and I are not made of money! And then she swabs my skin and then produces what looks like a fat biro pen.
“This is an auto-injector and this (I feel an unpleasantly sharp sting in my thigh) is Ketamine. It will stop you feeling so frightened and make you much easier to handle. You will get some more later on. Now, we have an appointment, so just sit back and enjoy your journey!”
With that, the girl – Neena, as she calls herself – climbs into the driver’s seat, starts the engine and begins to manoeuvre into the afternoon traffic.
All the strength begins to ebb from my body and I start to feel oddly disconnected from what is happening to me. Neena glances over her shoulder at me and smiles. She says something which I cannot make out. “Izveneetie, devorshka,” it sounds like. I start to feel numb and then, presently I feel as if I am seeping out of my body and out of the vehicle! I am flying away! See: girl. You thought you had caught me, but as you drive along, I am flying away from you! I am getting away. Ha! I will soon be all gone. Jennnnnnn? Who? That person, there. The one tied to the seat. She is - no I am flying away, through a tiny key hole, all the way back home! (10)
Anatoly glances at the screen of his computer closely. His palms are sweating just a little. He notices that his pulse is running fast. Over his computer, he hears Neena’s calm voice saying, “Target down; Pick-up complete. Target safe and restrained. Time now 14:30. Going to the rendezvous.’
Anatoly sighs. He had not realised it, but he has been holding his breath …
He allows himself a broad smile. A smile, because his Team have accomplished a difficult task in difficult circumstances, a smile because he has now got someone who can give him inside information about a Clegg Operation and a smile because, who knows? This young girl might be helpful to Sveta – actually, he hopes she may even be healing for Sveta, someone who may help to salve some old and painful wounds.
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Footnotes.
1. More on Trish. See Market Forces, by Freddie Clegg. Chapter 73
2. Statistical Package for the Social Sciences.
3. The Royal Society of Medicine has the best medical library in the United Kingdom.
4. “Sister” is the name given in the UK to a senior female nurse.
5. CT (computerized tomography) and MR (magnetic resonance imaging) are the gold standard methods for imaging fractures (CT) and ligament and tendon injuries (MR) in bones and joints.
6 Private flights to the London Area are mostly now directed to Farnborough or Blackbushe airports
7. “Rooms” : A rather quaint expression often used by medical practitioners in London to refer to the location of their private practice.
8. Neena uses a Mercedes Viano X-Clusive
9. The electronic jamming idea was inspired by a story in a local UK newspaper, about some traffic policemen who accidentally pointed a radar speed gun at a low flying fighter jet. The jet’s electronic defence system not only jammed the radar gun, but automatically armed and targeted an air to ground missile. The pilot chose not to fire!
10. Russian names. There are quite a few Russian characters in this story and you might find a short note about Russian names helpful. If you were a Russian, you would have three names. A first name (such as Anatoly) a second name derived from the name of your father (if your father was called Sergey, your ‘patronymic’ would be Sergeyevitch if you were a boy and Sergeyevna if you were a girl), and finally a family surname name (such as Kustensky). In Russia, if you were introduced to Anatoly Kustensky, you would call him “Anatoly Sergeyevitch”. If you knew him very well indeed, you would be allowed to use his first name, Anatoly, or its diminutive “Tolya” all on its own. The female version of a family name takes a slightly different form and hence Anatoly’s wife Svetlana (diminutive Sveta) is called Svetlana Kustenskaya.
© 2011 Phil Lane & Freddie Clegg
All characters fictitious.
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