Robin's Way 03

We caught a taxi from Liverpool Street station to the address near Soho which Ryan had texted me. Irina squeezed my hand: "tell me that it is going to be okay." I smiled at her and told her that it would be, squeezing her hand back. It wasn't, I reflected to myself, as though Ryan was going to do anything bad while I was there, and we had discussed the various eventualities.

We stopped off on the way at the address Lynne had given me to pick up the piece of "kit" we needed. The pill that Irina swallowed would give those monitoring us twenty-four hours during which they would always know her whereabouts, and the ring I gave her would do the same thereafter for another forty-eight. I did not want to think about what would happen if we needed longer. That would mean something had gone wrong, and we would be having to improvise.

Irina held my hand tight. What on earth was I doing? This could be dangerous. But I wanted to help Irina, and, to be truthful, I was furious with Ryan, and myself.

We got to Greek Street in time, and I rang the bell and gave our names.

"Come right up," said a female voice. The door opened onto a flight of stairs, and we went straight up and found ourselves in a receptionist's office. A pleasant-looking young woman smiled at us and asked if we'd like a drink. She buzzed and told her boss we were here. Ryan opened the door and smiled broadly.

"Great to see you, Robin," and then with rather less warmth, "and you Irina, glad that you were able, finally, to make it. Do come in. Fiona, bring me a coffee too."

His office was spacious. I loved these Victorian terraces, they adapted themselves well to modern use. Once Fiona had brought our coffees, it was, Ryan said, "down to business."

"I take it, Robin, you are aware of the services Irina offers our clients?" Looking pointedly at me he was clearly expecting some protest, so he overrode it by adding swiftly. "It's regrettable, but she knows the culture with which we are dealing, the Russians expect sweeteners, and what she provides helps us materially. You could look on it as oiling the wheels."

I knew full well that if he knew how I regarded the farrago of nonsense he'd just emitted, we should get nowhere, so I played the ingénue:

"I can't say I approve, darling", I stuttered, "but I know nothing about these things. And yes, I was a bit upset at the start, but accept your explanation, and of course, if Irina is now happy, that will have to do."

He looked so smug that I wanted to hurl something at him -- preferably something heavy and blunt, but he turned to Irina:

"And I take it you are?"

She crossed her legs, showing a generous expanse of thigh.

"Of course, sir, I am sorry I panicked. I hope you can forgive me."

As she said the last words in a suitably apologetic voice, she crossed her legs again. I could follow his eyes. He had got, he thought, what he wanted, and leaned back in his chair, content that the women in the room were both complying with his wishes.

"Irina, I am glad you are here. I was not looking forward to having to postpone tonight's meeting with our clients. Here's the address, oh, and get yourself something nice to wear -- you know their preferences. Fiona will give you the cash. You can spend the night at the hotel, and someone will meet you in the morning. All clear?"

I was struck by the change in his tone. Now he was getting what he wanted, he'd both relaxed and gone into dominant male mode. Seeing she was dismissed, Irina thanked him, and me, and left. As she shut the door, I suddenly, for the first time, felt a frisson of fear. We had expected something like this, and Irina had said there would be other women involved, so it should be possible for a police raid to begin the process of rounding up the men -- and tracing the women. She was content to take the risk, but now it was down to me.

He smiled broadly:

"Look, Robin, I don't expect you to understand, but this is how business is done out there. Backs need scratching, palms greasing, and it all helps the girls. But I am afraid some of these foreign fillies don't have the pedigree and take fright easily."

I had to conceal both the anger his words aroused, and the fact I was concealing the anger, so I resorted to the Irina tactic. I had worn a short skirt and duly crossed my legs nervously, hoping, successfully as it turned out, that he'd be distracted.

"It's okay," I reassured him, "I know I don't understand, and you know I don't approve, but what do I know?"

He laughed.

"You take it in excellent part, and I think you are owed a swanky dinner somewhere nice. Look, it's four o'clock now, why don't we meet at Maxim's at six for drinks, that's where Irina will be with the clients, and I need to make sure they are happy. You and I can go on to a little club I know and then, well let's see. If you really need to get back, I'll pay for a cab. How's that grab you?'

I confirmed it "grabbed" me just fine.

"I am so hoping," he added, "that finally, I shall be able to uncover the secret of those legs of yours. Fiona has some hospitality funding, and I think this calls for a new dress -- see you soon darling."

He leaned forward and kissed me. Somehow, I contrived not to shudder. The die was cast.

As Ryan had suggested, I talked with Fiona. She explained that rooms had been booked at the Excelsior, which was across the road from Maxim's and just down the road from the Club, so, if I wanted to use the money to buy a "frock", I could change at the hotel; she gave me the room number.

As I caught a cab to Oxford Street, I was quietly simmering. Looking at the finding device, I could see that Irina was already close to the hotel. I had no intention of using his money to buy myself anything, but had a suitable outfit in my bag, so I asked the driver to take me to the hotel. As I arrived, so did Irina. She looked relieved.

"So far so good," she said. "So?"

As we checked in, I told her that Ryan had invited me to drinks with them to be followed by dinner and a night of unbridled passion at his Club. I told her I thought we should be very careful in the room, as it might well be bugged. She nodded, adding that she would not be surprised if there were hidden cameras. Great, I thought, that's all I need, someone perving on me changing. We dumped our cases, and I suggested we grab some tea and assess our plan of campaign. We had about forty-five minutes, and to be honest, the less time we spent in the room, the better.

"I am not liking this, Robin", Irina said, her brow furrowing. "Why is he wanting you here? Why has he given you money for clothes and a key to the room? Can I ask a personal question?" I nodded my assent. "Are you a virgin?"

Taken aback, I felt myself blush.

"Yes, I thought I'd told you."

"You told me you hadn't with him, but I wasn't sure about, well", she blushed, "others."

Even as I asked why she asked, a horrible suspicion that had been forming in my mind began to crystallise.

"Surely not!" I exclaimed.

"Why not? What can you do, complain that a Russian mafia boss screwed you after you dined with him in a dress bought on money from the entertainment budget? You do know what these bastards would pay for a real virgin?"

I had always thought that phrase about your "blood running cold" was an odd one, but at that moment I felt its full force; my veins felt as though they were filled with ice. I had told the agents with whom we were working where we would be, but had given them ten o'clock as the time; suddenly, as we approached five-thirty, that seemed too late, and an age away. I felt out of my depth. Irina reached out and touched my hand.

"I doubt he intends to take you to the Club at all. I am betting he suggests we dine here, that would explain there being two rooms booked in the company's name. I suggest we try to dine for as long as possible and then, we'll how about this ...?

What she suggested was daring, but might just work. After all, they would be in no hurry, they thought they had all night. It was interesting that my thoughts ran along those tracks rather than objecting to the scheme itself.

When we got back to the room, I tried to see if I could locate any hidden cameras, but couldn't see anything. Assuming they were there, I decided against showering and slipped on the dress as discreetly as I could, watching as Irina changed into her extremely fetching mini dress. I looked positively frumpy next to her. We helped each other with our make-up. I seldom wore any, so it was more a case of her helping me.

We must have scrubbed up well, as I was aware we were attracting glances in the lounge as we waited. Ryan was on the dot of six.

"My darling, you look radiant, love the frock, green so suits you. And Irina, what can I say?"

He seemed happy, but a little nervous.

"Darling," he said, half apologetically, "do you mind if we dine here? The other guests who were joining the two Russians have failed to show, and I don't want Irina here to have to deal with them all alone? Is that okay? I shall make it up to you, promise."

He looked and sounded so genuine that for a moment I almost believed him, but then caught Irina's eye: we had been right.

I agreed with good grace.

"You are a princess", he said, "I am lucky to have you."

Luck, I thought, I shall be lucky to get out of this intact.

Ryan bought us a round of drinks. I had left instructions at the bar to serve me the most dilute white wine spritzers known to womankind. Ryan seemed unusually and uncharacteristically nervous. Just as we were wondering what was coming next, two Slavic-looking men in expensive suits were shown over to us by the waiter.

"Gregory and Boris, let me introduce you to Robin, you already know Irina."

"Enchanted to meet you," said the taller and more thick set of the two, who was Boris. He gave me the most predatory look I had ever experienced. I didn't know how Irina could be so calm but told myself to follow her example. The shorter and thinner of the duo, Gregory, was equally polite but less predatory, at least in my direction.

After some light conversation, we were steered to the dining room. My appetite had quite vanished, but fortunately, Ryan was used to my eating habits and paid no attention to it. The wine kept coming, but I managed to prevent my glass being filled too often. Irina was the life and soul of the party, keeping the men amused with stories about how different life in rural Suffolk was from life in the Ukraine. I managed to find something to say in response. But as time passed, I became aware of tension building,

Boris asked Ryan "when can we get down to business?" Looking at his watch and seeing the stage of the meal we had reached, he suggested that we should retire to our rooms and have dessert and wine sent up. The Russians readily agreed. I noted with horror that it was just eight o'clock. Irina suggested she needed the bathroom, and of course, she could not go unaccompanied -- we women hunt in packs.

Once in the impenetrable fastness of the Ladies we quickly considered our options. One was to cut and run. It would achieve none of our objectives and create difficulties back home for me, but we should be safe for now. The other was to go through with it and take the risks. Irina reminded me of our contingency plan.

"I have another, but let's see if it's needed. I have asked for help if we get into trouble before the official cavalry arrives."

"Do tell," she asked, intrigued.

"Let's say that we virgins have a protector."

She looked at me as though I was mad.

"Faith, my darling Irina, the hope of things believed in but not seen."

"Whatever," she laughed. "I still prefer my plan."

By the time we had "refreshed", the men were ready. Getting our coats, we crossed to the hotel. There was a tense silence in the elevator. Gregory had already attached himself to Irina, his arms resting in her shoulders as he stood behind her. I looked at Ryan.

"What's going on darling?"

"We'll just have a few drinks and then leave them with her."

As we took our coats off and settled, Ryan poured some wine. Gregory sat next to Irina and had his hand on her thigh a moment later. I did not need to feign the unease I expressed to Ryan.

"I think we should go, darling."

Boris looked at me hungrily and then at Ryan. Ryan turned to me:

"Come on, don't be such a prude Ro."

I hated being called "Ro", no one called me that.

"I am sorry you feel that way Ryan, but I am a prude, and I am going."

"Wait", Irina said.

Relieved at the reprieve, Ryan asked what she meant.

Putting into effect our plan B (the cavalry was still more than an hour away, and that was assuming they came on time), she disentangled herself from the octopus arms of Gregory, smoothed her skirt down, and said:

"Look, can't you see darling Robin is nervous? Why don't you let me relax her and see if she still wants to go? Or are you guys in a rush?"

A wolffish grin came over the faces of the two Russians. Ryan seemed amused.

"Do I get a say in any of this, I asked?"

Ryan looked at me.

"Look Ro, let me level with you."

That, I thought, would be a first, but I wasn't going to hold my breath.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought it might be fun to share the pleasure, darling, I didn't think you'd mind. You have a lot of lost time with men to make up."

I looked as shocked as I felt.

"You, you what? How dare you!"

A note of iron entered his voice.

"Ro, you asked if you got a choice, you do, you agree, or it happens anyway. Why not relax and enjoy it? Take up Irina's suggestion. I've seen the way you girls look at each other, I don't think you'd mind that."

It was killing time, but not enough. The Russians were looking at me hungrily. Irina had a pleading took in her eyes. She knew these men in this situation and what they were capable of.

"Shall I take her to the bedroom? You three can watch."

"Good idea," Ryan nodded.

"You bastard!" I snarled at him. "I will report this."

"Report what? You came back willingly enough, and it's your word against four others, including another woman. Best of luck with that."

This was going where we had feared, and so I feigned an acceptance of my fate.

"Well, if it is going to happen, I suppose that this would help prepare me."

Ryan grinned wolfishly:

"Good girl, Ro, and you may even enjoy it."

Standing up, I took the hand Irina proffered me and went toward the bedroom with her.

I was shivering. This was ridiculous. How on earth had I convinced myself that I could play the role of undercover investigator? Irina squeezed my hand.

We had, at most, an hour, and I remained nervous, both of our Plan A, and what we would do if it failed. For all the bravado I was trying to summon up, it was painfully clear that we were both in danger. What they could do to us both could not be undone, and furious though I was with the abominable Ryan, I knew I could trust Irina; she had been right all along. One thing Ryan had got right was that I was not altogether averse to being with Irina -- I could just have wished for a bit of privacy. But that was another thing not on offer.

Standing by the bed, she pulled me to her and kissed me. Despite the circumstances, my body -- and spirit -- responded. I loved the softness of her lips against my own, and her scent aroused me. It felt good, and I easily assented as we fell onto the bed together. My mind shut out the men.

I felt her hands go under my dress, tugging at the waistband of my knickers, sliding them down; she helped me step out of them. I kissed her as her hands gripped my bare bottom. In spite of the circumstances, I felt a tingling between my legs. I wanted Irina; I just did not want the three men there watching us.

Irina slipped her dress off, unclasping her bra, and then she offered me her breasts. Shutting the world out, I sucked on them. Yes, I wanted her. I could smell her scent and knew she wanted me.

Taking the lead, Irina pushed me back onto the bed, kissing me passionately and telling me how much she wanted me. I did not need to pretend, I wanted her too.

For the longest while I shut the rest of the world out, and there was just the two of us. I felt the softness of her against me, and ignoring the circumstances, surrendered myself. But after a while I sensed the tension from the audience.

"Enough of this, I want her, Surtees, you promised, I paid well for her, she's mine, I want her and now!"

Boris came over and, thrusting Irina from me, grabbed me.

"Mine!" He was exultant.

I crossed myself. Irina cried out.

Then it happened.

"What devilry is this?" Boris was dumbfounded. In the twinkling of an eye his obvious arousal had, shall we say, been deflated. His fury was compounded by his embarrassment. Irina giggled.

"What's up? Oh, sorry, I should have said what's not up!"

He swung his fist at her, but she was too quick, and as his trousers were around his knees, the effect was that he toppled sideways, hitting his head on the bedside table. Frozen, I watched as Gregory stepped forward, and as his hands grabbed me, I shuddered. Then he cried out in obvious pain, clutching his groin. Boris was, by then sitting up, and brushing off the pain from his head, renewed his attempt on me, but the moment he touched me he, too, clutched his groin and fell back in acute pain.

Ryan looked at me.

"What the fuck! What the hell are you doing?"

He grabbed my shoulders and then fell back as though electrocuted. Irina embraced me.

"Darling Robin is it ...?"

I nodded. I felt unsteady but somehow supported. Irina's arm round me consoled me, and I felt another feminine presence. The three men cowered as I stood up.

"Do you want more?" I felt invincible.

It was at that moment that the door flew open, and the cavalry arrived. I don't know who was more amazed, Ryan and the Russians or the police. Whatever the latter had been expecting, two women in a state of partial undress with three men on the floor moaning had not been in it.

"Sorry for the delay, ladies," the first of the officers said, apologetically.

"Oh, don't worry," I said, cheerfully pulling my dress down, "we had other help."

"So I see," the officer laughed. "It makes these three easier to round up."

He was right. The fight had gone out of them. Ryan scowled at me as he was escorted away.

"I think you'll find", I could not resist saying, "that my story will be believed."

"It will, Ma'am," said the officer, "we got the man in the other room with the recording -- I think that even the Crown Prosecution Service couldn't screw this one up." And so, nine months later, it proved.

Once they had left, I looked at Irina and she looked at me. We smiled.

"You were right," she said, "I should have had faith."

"I have always had faith in Our Lady", I told her, "always, from as early as I can remember, and I asked her to be my protection if all else failed."

"And she was," Irina said. Then she smiled, "but not against me."

"Well," I joked, "maybe you are no threat -- and maybe I welcomed you."

"Did you?" She looked at me wide-eyed. I looked up at her. "Well", she said, "as the room is booked and paid for, perhaps we should discuss this further before bed."

"I'd like that," I said, falling into her arms.