Retreat

"No.2 reinserts and replaces tracker from bike on white BMW, before return at 23:16 arrival of dark ford, three gash exit and enter base, the ford leaves at 23:19, no more to report until, 09:10, target B and same male take blue Mercedes and leave. Tracked to Ullswater lake, currently sailing in dinghy, type laser pico, end."

"How close to they seem?"

"There's no doubt he's trying, but I don't think he's succeeded yet."

"Any news on available plumbing?"

"Expected 20:00

"Thanks, later."

"Roger, later."

Collette looks at the clock, "We can't do anything 'til O silly o'clock, so what we got to nosh?"

"I'll knock out a brekky, then can we get moving."

"Mand', you know how these things work, you don't know who the plumber is and it's best you don't know." She struggles with her thoughts, she is concerned for Amanda, not physically, but in-case there are any legal repercussions. She manages to offer an excuse for her to not be involved, "Babe, I know you can handle anything I can and I trust you more than any living soul, but just in case I am right, it might be best if you're not there for the op. Your bruv may need your support and if it all goes tits up, then you'll be no use to him banged up will you?

"I don't care, they've got professionals for that, I'm coming and that's it, okay."

As they eat, they discuss clothing and equipment to take and what may be provided by the "Plumber," deciding to wear black combat uniforms and balaclava's, and take the two military issued collapsible nightsticks she stole from some U.S. marine M P's some time ago, and a contact taser that Amanda keeps beside her bed.

Later, at 18:07 Amanda and Collette drive past the manor, at 18:09 Amanda pulls over. Collette, takes the packed Bergen from the boot and begins to tab back to meet Double Ess, and the others. Amanda moves off until she finds a farm track she can park and settle in, until she is called for.

Slipping across fields keeping hedges between her and the manor and even with the heavy pack, Collette makes good time to meet the others.

"Major."

"Lieutenant, Sergeant, update."

"Mack is still out keeping eyes on target B, target A not located," Double Ess informs.

Collette nods and says, "I see you've got a brew going."

"Told yer," laughs Sgt Plod.

"Cheers Plod, I knew it were down to you, this bastards too tight an' stupid to 'ave one ready for me."

"Fuck off... Sir," Double Ess answers with a cheerful grin. Squatting down they talk about old times and what they have been up to since they parted ways. It does not seem long before another person joins them also weighted down by the Bergen on his back.

"What you got for us Charlie?"

"Double Ess insisted you wanted to incapacitate rather than anything permanent, that is the cause of the delay and so... for your delectation, I have, a couple of tasers... aand" he says stretching the word out to two syllables, "four, that's four, count 'em why don't ya? Of the finest of quality, thoroughly modern... go on guess"

Almost together, the others chant "Fuck off."

"Paint ball guns," he sniggers, "and fifty rounds apiece."

"Paint ball guns," they reply, again, almost in unison.

"Yeah, they hurt like buggery if they've got no body armour, especially at close range, even better if you can catch 'em in the cods and as you know, well not you major, but these two do. A facial can result in blindness."

"Ooooh the two men groan as they imagine the pain of getting shot in the testicles with the weapons. At the same time Collette is asking, "'ave they got auto fire?"

Charlie the plumber grins, "I knew you'd like 'em, but just in case, I also brought four pistols, three sig Pee twenty two six's with two full mags apiece and a Eff Enn Ess 9 with three mags, for the lady. All 9 mill' as you know, don't get caught and if you use 'em, lose 'em, and pay for 'em otherwise you can return 'em. Oh, almost forgot four En Ex Why, En Vee Gees, you probably won't need 'em and if you lose 'em they're two and a half grand apiece."

6

Monday

It has taken her all morning to calm down enough to make this conciliatory gesture. Even so, the woman is still not happy.

She cannot understand how Mark has let her down; he had never failed her before. Numerous women over the last few years he has successfully groomed until this Michelle. Numerous women have succumbed to his flattery and been turned from dissatisfied wives into sexual dynamo's, dominating and cuckolding their husbands and without realising it, working as unpaid whores for her. Easily done once directed to an overwhelming quest for the ultimate orgasm. People of power, people of breeding and wealth, have fallen for her training, and yet, this working class biker skank has resisted Mark. Even if the online initial hypnosis had failed, she should not have resisted, not with the drugs she given to relax her and enhance her desire.

Showing her the irrational anger of her husband, combined with the undermining of her intentions for accepting the placement. The conversation afterwards, taking her down so Mark can support her and build her back up, is often enough. Adding implications that he is betraying his job and taking her into his confidence should have made her more pliable. Then the near rape, combined with a fortuitous rescue, another tried and tested fail-safe method to break resistance. The shock treatment, designed to instil gratitude and trust is usually enough to break even the most difficult cases, and what does she do? Kick her valiant rescuer out of her room and refuses to see him, or even speak to him, instead of taking him to bed and rewarding his valour like a normal person.

Yes, she has certainly underestimated her loyalty and Michelle's resolution to keep fighting for her marriage, she seems to be the ideal wife for a man like hers. She would not even be here except for her proven track-record of gullibility.

He, on the other hand is behaving exactly as predicted, exactly as many men dedicated to their wives. Apart from his suspicions before they arrived, the initial worry about her, followed by the anger, the refusal to take part in our "little game" as he sees it, is all precisely on track. She smiles to herself thinking about how many men have thought themselves to be so clever in refusing to eat their food assuming it to be drugged. People just do not realise how many drugs, especially psychoactive ones can be administered by spraying surfaces with the drug to be absorbed through the skin.

Taking a breath of determination, she walks up to, and knocks on Michelle's door.

"Michelle, I've brought a pot of tea, I would like to..."

"Fuck off you bitch, you tricked me. You know I didn't want this shit, fuck off and leave me alone."

"Suit yourself,"

The woman stares at the door, she is not angry, but she is annoyed, tonight she had expected her to succumb to Mark's advances.

As she walks back to her rooms, Michelle's dedication to the filthy swine locked up in the back of the manor is much as expected, as are the cracks in that dedication that are now beginning to show in her resistance to the tried and tested combination of her techniques and Mark's charm

Her husband, he is not the first to have shown the degree of resistance he is showing, but she is confident he will soon bend to her will. It should take about a month to six weeks at the most, but as he already thinks he has been here a week, that time should pass in no more than another two weeks.

To enhance his distorted perception of days, his cell is specifically designed to break him, with the addition of certain chemicals into the air he breathes to make him more susceptible to suggestion. His refusal to eat and drink because of his suspicions of drugs only serves to weaken, not only his resolve, but also his physical strength. If he starts to eat but continues to maintain resistance, hidden speakers will deliver subsonic vibrations to increase discomfort and fear.

Walking into her living room, she hands the man she used to call husband the tray and watches him walk out to empty the doped tea.

As she often does, when faced with difficult couples, a small part of her wishes that her mockery of a man, had not been so easy to subdue, that he had done more in the beginning than just meekly objecting to her adultery. She wonders what her life would now be like if he had either fought for her, or even divorced her, instead of just accepting this was just something she did.

True, she would not have her riches, her four homes in four countries, her cars and the flock of minions that think of themselves as "bulls and hot wives," she may not have introduced her younger twin sisters into a life of debauchery that resulted in their emigration to America and ultimately their deaths.

She does not believe that Monique died in a random carjacking, nor her sister Elizabeth had left the president of the United States a widower after suffering a stroke. She knows that their aspirations of political control had stirred up a hornets' nest and assumes that had led to their demise. She had warned them that they were moving too quickly, that Elizabeth should content herself with ensnaring the wives of up and coming possible future presidents to further their agenda and not attempt to place herself on that throne.

She misses them greatly, now she has no one to boast with about their activities, now she finds herself lonely, her only real drive now is to get revenge on the men she suspects are responsible for both her sisters' demise, and has taken contracts out on all of them. Contracts that so far have been unsuccessful, but she is sure the bounties of a million pounds a head and two for the instigator, a certain Oscar Warren, would eventually pay off.

The thing she is legally bound to, returns and assumes his position at her feet and she glances down at him in disgust. If only he had shown some backbone, some balls and not been so pliable and so easily degraded, she may have led a normal life. Had she not surrounded herself with over-confident sycophants and broken lapdogs, she might actually be happy.

She lashes out at the shadow of the man that she once called husband and thinks of getting him to summon her resident cocks. She dismisses the idea, they would see it as a reward and she does not consider any of them deserve a reward and if she were to be honest with herself, they are beginning to disgust her almost as much as the thing laying at her feet. A smile breaks her lips, perhaps she should neuter them all, begin a new, younger and more virile flock, turn the ones she keeps into replicas of... that. She kicks the man at her feet again and tells him to fetch a drink, when he returns; she is just taking the glass from the tray when the lights go out. 

7

The four people are sitting in almost complete silence. This weekend has been very warm, record breaking for the time of year in some places resulting in almost no cloud cover. It does not help that Friday had been the full moon and tonight the earth's shadow is only trimming the edge. It may not be daylight, but it may has well have been.

All they can do is hope that there is no watching and they make their way to the target. Reaching the stone wall, they make their way around, so at least their incursion over the wall will be hidden by the shadow of the house.

Practiced teamwork gets them all over the obstacle in less than a minute and soon, Double Ess is soon picking the lock on the front door. The soft click and gentle pressure opens the door and he signals success to the team, and as he moves inside the others are at his rear.

Looking around as he enters, Double Ess smiles at the sight of the main fuse box, high on the wall in an alcove obviously used as a cloakroom. Grinning at the good fortune, he reaches up and switches the power off.

Collette, Double Ess and Mack take positions in the open hallway as a woman's voice is heard shouting, "Will one of you morons see to the fucking lights."

Three large shadows and a smaller one appear at the top of the stairs, they hear the sound of a slap and a male voice say, "hurry the fuck up," the smaller shadow moves quickly down the stairway and heads toward the fuse box.

As he opens the panel to the fuses, a hand covers his mouth, and an arm closes around his throat, the figure struggles for only a few seconds before going limp. Plod binds his wrists and ankles together with zip ties and presses the unconscious figure into the corner, a male voice comes from the landing above. "What are you playing at you sack of shit, get the fucking lights back on."

Getting no reply, obviously angry voices are heard coming from the landing and another, much larger shadow begins to move down, two more shadows can be seen joining the remaining two on the landing.

The large figure is incapacitated almost as easily as the first by the well trained and battle seasoned, ex-Royal Marine. He does however manage to make a stifled noise of complaint just before he collapses.

As Plod is immobilising his prey a voice calls out, "Errol, Errol, what's going on down there?"

Again, there are sounds of men speaking and four figures begin their descent, one of them calls again. Who is down there? I've got a gun, come out into the open.

Multiple phhtt sounds are heard along with surprised sounds of pain, two of the figures drop and roll down the few remaining stairs.

The four men begin shouting, the two still standing turn and run up the stairs shouting, "Intruders, Robbie and James have been shot." Four more times the phhht sounds are heard, one shouts "oww," the other shouts, "that fucking hurts, what are they shooting? It's not bullets."

After the men at the foot of the stairs are immobilised with ties, Collette presses on the throat of one and demands, "Who else is in the house? How many?"

"What the fuck is this, who the fuck are you?

"We're asking the questions, now, talk."

"Fuck you."

Collette moves her foot slightly and presses, the man is quickly unconscious. Mack, squeezes and viciously twists one of the other man's nipples, "Right you cock sucker, you heard the lady, speak or she'll be doing this to your bollocks." Above them, two brief sounds of violence are heard.

The trussed man goes rigid, although in the darkness, neither Mack, nor Collette can see his features clearly, they both know he is terrified. He mumbles, "Five, six blokes, five women."

"Where are they?"

"First floor, one woman alone on the second, her ladyship is on the top floor, and one bloke locked in the cellars."

Women's screams come from above and stop almost immediately.

"Ta," Collette says and smacks him in the stomach with the end of her nightstick.

Collette and Mack, check the doorways on the ground floor are clear, they find the stairs leading down through the third door they try. They make sure the other rooms are clear, before beginning the descent to the cellar.

The darkness is absolute and both silently thanking Charlie had had the foresight to provide them with the night vision goggles as they pull them over their eyes. The stairway goes down further than expected, turning a right angled corner to the left after ten steps, twice before ending at a long corridor.

There are only two doors on only one side of the corridor and none on the other. The first is a small room, it smelled wet, foisty and unwelcoming. The next seemed to have once been a storeroom the shelves littered with tins and open bags of things, that had they been interested in what they contained they could not tell in the green coloured enhanced light of their goggles.

Next was a large square opening with two other corridors running from it. They each take a corridor, Mack finds two doorways in his corridor, the first, an office, sparsely furnished, the second...

Michael lay quietly, for some reason, although it is always quiet in his room, for some reason, he feels it is quieter than the normal quietness. It feels eerie and his heart is pounding hard, when suddenly, the quietness stops.

He hears the draw bolt slide and the creak and groan of the old hinges and then a voice comes out of the darkness.

"Mike, thank fuck, you're sister sent us and we've come to take you home."

The voice sounds familiar, but he cannot put a name to it, he is not convinced it is real.

"Mike, I know you can't see shit, we took out the leccy. Plod an' Double Ess are upstairs, Major Fitz' is searching another corridor, c'mon, let's get you out of here."

"Who...who?"

"Fuck you can't see, sorry mate, it's Mack, we met at the weddin', well, Stag night.'"

"Doe night," Michael replies.

"Ah, we never did get that settled did we, but I still say if someone's marryin' a woman, then it's a stag, even if the bloke's a bird."

Michael does not reply, he is sure the voice coming from the darkness is nothing more than his imagination, and then something touches him and he screams. The voice had been bad enough, but the touch sends him retreating mentally into a safe place, a place of denial.

"Shhh, me old buddy, calm yourself down, it's alright, you're safe now."

"The sound of running comes toward them "Mack, are you... Mike, we've found you."

"Coll', is that you, really you?" he asks, as he begins to worry he really has lost the plot, he knows he is awake, but he cannot believe it is real and his mind begins to retreat to a safe place.

"Yes bud, the cavalry's here. Mack. Nothing else down here but a surveillance room. Let's get Mike upstairs an' get the lights back on. Then we can sort these cunts out proper like."

"Yessir."

"C'mon mate, can you walk?" Mack says, keeping a grip on the sobbing man. As soon as they get him in the corridor, Collette takes her brother in law's, other arm and they guide him back to, and up the stairs.

All three find the moonlight brighter than expected, Collette and Mack curse as they remove their Night Vision Goggles. "Mack, go turn the lights on mate."

"Sir."

Seconds later he shouts, "lights on in 3, 2, on"

Michael blinks, the moonlight had been bad enough, but the brightness of the artificial lights are almost blinding and it takes him several minutes to stop blinking, even then he is seeing trails on anything bright, especially if it is moving. He hears a man screaming in pain and Collette shouting, "Where's the fucking key to that contraption?"

"I can't my mistress won't want me to tell you."

She pulls on the metal object constricting his genitals and he screams. "Listen to me carefully; if you don't tell me, I am going to cause you more pain than anything that bitch has ever given you. I will only stop if I have nearly killed you," she releases her hold, "or would you rather I torture her?"

"No please, hurt me, if you need to hurt someone, I beg you, please hurt me."

She throws him to the floor and turns as if to the stairs, towards the woman. He cries out, "Please, please, I beg you don't hurt her."

"I won't hurt her for now, if you start talking."

"Okay, I will talk, but please, promise me you won't hurt her, I love her, I will tell you but please don't hurt her."

Collette snorts, even she is not sure whether it signifies pity or disgust, before telling him to talk.

Taking her order to talk as an agreement he says, "Goddess Celestia keeps it in her chiffonier," his voice shaking in fear.

"Celestia, Goddess," Collette scoffs, "an' what the fuck is a shiff on ya, ay, eh?"

"It's the tall cupboard with drawers and a cupboard underneath, in her bedroom." He answers nervously.

"I'll get it," Double Ess shouts down. "I'll bring the scrawny old bitch with me."

A man's raised voice is heard, followed by a woman screeching something about knowing his place and then as suddenly as it started, stops. Two minutes later Double Ess is marching down the stairs with a woman flung unceremoniously over his shoulder and a pillowcase stuffed full of some things in his other hand. "Dunno about any shiftin' wee's but I found this lot in a sideboard."