Blonde Needles in a Giant Haystack 6

Wassim’s plan was far from being genius, but rather born from necessity: He tied a noose around Dalanda’s neck and then freed her legs, forcing her to stumble after him as he approached the highway. It was getting dark, and he wanted to wait for a single car. Once there was one, he would put on the warning vest taken from the van and wave, causing the driver to stop. If it didn’t turn out to be loaded with a group of soldiers or Policemen, he would force the owner at gunpoint to leave and run whilst he would leave with Dalanda.

»Once we are in the desert, there’s nothing that will stop me!«

Dalanda had no intention to see whether that was true. All the time, she had continued to pick on her wrist bonds. Again, she had the problem that her elbows were tied, too, but she decided to try a different approach now, using the opportunities given to her.

Wassim had stopped at a heap beside the road, allowing him to look for car lights in both directions. Dalanda was lying on the foot of that hill, her neck rope tied to a withered bush, and her ankles tied again. It wasn’t convenient – but the gravel consisted of many stones with sharp edges, and Dalanda had picked one, sawing through her leg ties.

The man repeatedly looked at her, but Dalanda managed to pretend that she was just shifting to find a more comfortable position. She felt her feet come free, and she squirmed closer to the bush, so she could work on the knots of her leash.

There was the sound of an approaching car, and Dalanda doubled her efforts when she heard the car stop, together with Wassim shouting. Now was the crucial time! Se prayed that the driver would just run once Wassim drew the gun and not risk getting shot, but at the same time, she hoped that the hijacking would take some time, so she would get a head start.

The leash came loose when she heard Wassim shout »Get out of the car! Now! Move it!«. Still tied wrists and elbows and still gagged, she came to her feet and sneaked forward, into the darkness. Dalanda had no real idea where to go; she just wanted to try to bring as many yards between her and Wassim until he recognized her escape; perhaps, she could hide behind a rock or bush, and once she had some rest, she could also get rid of her other bonds.

»It’s just two or three miles to Sidi Ifni! Once I am there, I am saved!«

She heard some shouting, but luckily, it wasn’t accompanied by shots. So, the unlucky driver was just running away and not trying to defend his car. Dalanda looked over her shoulder, but the hill was just a shadow now.

»That’s at least 100 yards! And at least 50 more before he finds out that-«

She staggered, and though she didn’t get hurt when she fell to the ground, she knew that she had gasped, and as if he had heard it, she now could see Wassim stand on top of the hill.

Dalanda worked herself to her feet and stumbled forward. She expected to hear Wassim’s shouting, or the approaching sound of his steps. Instead, there was a car’s engine, and when she dared to look again, she saw two lights slowly crawl over the hill.

***

Tied to the pole and her lips taped, Ana had forced herself to oppress her anger when she was trying to figure out what her captors were discussing. They were speaking German, and she could only understand a few names, one of them some »Davenport« that didn’t ring a bell in her but seemed to be someone of importance – and Agadir.

The discussion seemed a bit heated, and it obviously also concerned her, as they were occasionally pointing at Ana; in the end, Gabriela approached her, taking a deep breath.

»Ana – do you mind calling you so?«

Ana just frowned, and Gabriela took that as a »Yes«.

»Ana – we don’t like what we have to do, but we have to get to Agadir – and we can neither risk that you send all your colleagues after us, nor that you get harmed – well, harmed even more!«

She showed an apologetic smile, and Ana let out a fluttering breath. Though she was a tough woman, there had been the fear that they were intending to kill her, and it seemed that this was not what they were planning.

»We can’t take a plane, for we have no passports, and Sato is wanted! So, we will get to Agadir by car and ferry!«

Ana sensed that this was only a part of what she had to say. However, Gabriela stopped, and to her surprise, she began taking off her clothes, stripping to her socks, bra and panties. Melissa watched with considerable delight, noticing with a smile that Gabriela had decided to show their connection by her choice of underwear.

At the lingerie shop, Melissa had opted for a set of plain cotton bra and panties, white with small red Polka dots, a reminder of the panties she had been wearing when Gabriela had first seen her in nothing but those. Gabriela had put aside the lacy silk set she had chosen and changed it for a matching set, red with white Polka dots.

Ana got distracted from the strange strip show when Johanna began to untie her wrists whilst Sato aimed at her. Whilst she rubbed her wrists, Sato ordered:

»Please, take off your clothes and hand them to Gabriela-San!«

»Mhm?«

Ana ripped the tape strip from her lips and opened her mouth to protest. Gabriela felt obliged to explain:

»If we get into a control, they will look less closely if there’s a veritable Policewoman behind the wheel! And since I am the only one who speaks Spanish-«

»You are crazy!«

»Well, don’t mess with madmen then and do as you were told! If it helps, Melissa-San will take the job of keeping an eye on you!«

Shrugging, Melissa drew the other gun and aimed at Ana whilst Sato indeed turned his back, rummaging through a bag. Ana once again thought about arguing, but then, she started by kicking off her sneakers. This was actually a slight relief, for since Sato had used her socks to gag her during his escape and she hadn’t had the chance to get a fresh pair yet, she had been wearing no socks at all.

Slowly, she unbuttoned her uniform blouse, unable to oppress a slight blush when she revealed her white bra with the transparent floral patterns on it. Gabriela giggled nervously.

»She’s rather your size than mine!«

Ana now felt all women stare at her breasts, and she shielded them with the undone blouse. Glancing at Gabriela, she hissed:

»You may pad your cups with tissues, to match my looks!«

An angry Gabriela took the blouse from her and quickly put it on.

»Pants, too!«

The red lantern of embarrassment was handed back to Ana as she had to remove her trousers, and for the second time, she cursed her choice of underwear as she was very aware of the pink garment with the silver unicorn on the crotch panel.

Her arm shielding her bra-clad breasts, with her other hand loosely over her middle, Ana watched as Gabriela put on her uniform that more or less fit her.

»Allow me!«

The Portuguese plucked the hairband from Ana’s hand and used it to tie her own curls into a tight bun. Ana had to admit that, if she put on sunglasses and met someone who only did a cursory look, she might pass as her.

Sato turned around, and Ana was about to complain that she hadn’t yet put on Gabriela’s clothes when she saw he was carrying some lengths of rope.

»I am sorry, Ana-San, but we can’t take risks! Neither of you alarming your colleagues too soon, nor of you not getting found and freed! So, we will have to take you with us, and we will have to keep you restrained!«

He sounded so matter-of-factly that Ana did not try to resist.

»Let me just put on the clothes of my – double, and you may do what you have to do!«

Sato shook his head, stepping behind her. Ana grimaced.

»Just for safety reasons, hm?«

»I have to admit that you also look better that way!«, Sato stated, and Ana scoffed. Then, she caught the glance in Johanna’s eyes, and she made a note in her head that obviously, the blonde wasn’t indifferent to such remarks.

»The question is whether this is good or bad for me!«, she thought.

Sato placed her forearms parallel to each other and wrapped them with rope, tying the knots tight, but in a tolerable way. He left the long ends dangle and tied a second rope around her upper arms and torso, doing three rounds both above and below her breasts. Ana gasped when he pushed his fingers under her armpits, but he just cinched the ropes between her arms and sides before knotting them off between her shoulder blades. He had left dangling ends here, too, and these were now brought over her shoulders, and Ana’s chest heaved as Sato pushed the ropes through the ropes below her breasts, though the man tried not to touch them.

The ends were then threaded through the ropes above her boobs, and when Sato pulled, the whole lot tightened, and her breasts were framed by ropes. Sato tied off the ends and formed a small noose dangling down over her belly button.

»Spread your legs a little, please!«

Before Ana could protest, he had placed his foot between hers and took care she could not prevent him from leading the ropes dangling from her arm tie between her legs from behind and threading them through the noose. Ana sighed when he pulled the slack out and the two parallel ropes cut into her crotch.

»Now, it’s just to keep you from too much struggling – but of course, it can be tightened if necessary!«

»O-of course!«, Ana spat, unable to sound perfectly calm as the ropes were led back between her legs and tied off somewhere between her shoulder blades. The rope indeed wasn’t painful, but it was there, and it already felt very irritating.

Humming a melody, Sato used four more ropes to tie her legs at her thighs, above and below the knees and at her ankles. Each time, he took care the coils were nice and parallel, even when he used a piece of thin rope to lash her big toes together.

»There – nice, tight and nevertheless almost convenient!«

Watching Johanna restrain the Policewoman reminded her of how she and Sato had first met, so to say – and to her surprise, she felt jealous. The rational part in her head wanted to scold her about that, but it was silenced by the emotional part that told her that this was not the time to oppress her feelings.

She reached under her skirt and peeled down her panties.

»We have to gag her, too!«

Ana watched with disbelief as the blonde stepped out of her white cotton panties and handed them to Sato who took them with a smile. Johanna blushed slightly and avoided looking at Ana who vigorously shook her head.

»No! You will not put that bitch’s underwear in my mouth!«

Sato’s left darted forward, grabbing her scalp and pulling her backwards in a way that made her fall, only to be stopped by Sato’s body. The man kept her bent backwards, her eyes staring upwards at him. The attack had come so fast she hadn’t even felt pain, and even now, her scalp only hurt when she tried to move.

»Don’t call her a bitch ever again!«

His expression had become stern, and Ana panted whilst she didn’t want to lower her head. After a few seconds, she gasped:

»How about I apologize to her, and you choose a less – personal gag?«

A smile formed on Sato’s lips.

»Kuso yaro!«

»Eh?«

»That’s ›son of a bitch‹ in Japanese!«, Melissa translated, and Sato held up the panties to Ana’s face.

»Just in case you want to insult me instead of Johanna-San!«

Despite her struggles, he worked the panties into her oral cavity. Her retching made Johanna regret what she had done, and as if to soften the blow, she murmured:

»I bought them fresh this morning!«

The look Ana gave her showed that this did not help to mitigate her rage, and she looked away whilst Sato secured the gag with a few rounds of tape.

»We will take your car, Ana-San! After all, not only is Gabriela-San feigning to be you, it’s also bigger than ours! Who will do the first part of the trip?«

A few minutes later, they left with the Seat, with Gabriela driving, whilst the trussed up Ana sat on the backseat, between Melissa and Sato. Johanna was in the other car she wanted to return to the rental service, to avoid that they would get caught by them tracking their car.

»We will let you go as soon as we are where we have to go, but until then, this is the only solution!«, Melissa apologetically said towards Ana who just angrily stared at her, trying to cope with the humiliating gag. Maybe, Johanna had only bee wearing her panties for a few hours, but it had been a warm day, and in addition, they were quite substantial. Ana panted through her nose, imagining how she would make these bastards pay once she had managed to escape.

***

Since the incident at Sidi Ifni maybe would cause the Moroccan Police to look after the Jeep and the Land Rover, Ben decided that they should avoid the highway and drive offroad for some 10 to 15 miles, until they would meet the road leading to Mahbes, a small town near the wall separating the occupied part of Western Sahara from the one controlled by the Polisario. Since it was dark, they had slowed down to almost pedestrian speed, and Ben, feeling the air getting considerably colder, now regretted that he had chosen the open car.

»I think I am getting old and weak!«, he commented when he put on a pullover. Jean grunted something, and Barrot, busy with concentrating on the ground ahead of them, didn’t react at all.

»There!«

Barrot, also an experienced soldier, had switched out both the car and the lights on Jean’s first mentioning that he had spotted something, and a moment later, the Land Rover did the same. Ben needed no night vision to see the light in front of them, slowly getting closer.

»Maybe, it’s just someone who missed the road!«

However, all the men got their weapons ready. In the night, and offroad, this was either a member of the authorities – or someone trying to avoid contact with those. In either case, it could mean trouble.

Inside the Land Rover, the three bound, gagged and blindfolded girls reacted differently to the car stopping and the men around them getting tense. Carmen, who had been the victim of Nico kneading her breasts for some time, had fallen back to something she had learned during the time when she had been addicted and had done almost anything for money: she had withdrawn from her own body, and so, she had been able to nearly ignore the man’s hands on her breasts. Thus, it had taken her some time to realize that Nico no longer was touching her.

Beside her, Inga had also tried to not feed the troll by not reacting to Cory’s taunting. However, her temper and the way she was restrained had worked against her. Inga not only was blindfolded and gagged, but she also had her ears stuffed, and this added disorientation had made her even more sensitive to anything – or anyone touching her. The fact that the car constantly swayed, forcing her to shift and press against her tight crotch rope, didn’t help the matter, and Cory always thought of new ways to playfully poke her with the stick.

Babette, however, had involuntarily sighed with disappointment when Marco had withdrawn his hands. He had started by massaging her neck and shoulders, and though she had been too aware that the man was no friend, the touching itself had felt good, and she had not tried to shake him off.

More and more, he had explored where her sensitive spots were, and Babette had known that the tingle straying from her carotids had reached her breasts, causing her nipples to get hard and erect. When the tips of Marco’s fingers had pushed into her cleavage, she had reared up, almost wishing that he went further.

Now, it seemed that something had caused them to not only stop, but to expect a confrontation, as they heard the metallic sound of guns getting made ready, and hands pushed their upper bodies down, so they wouldn’t get hurt.

***

When the car had stopped, Wassim had thought that his streak of misfortune had ended: not only had the driver been alone, when he had seen Wassim aiming at him, he had left and ran away, not forcing him to use violence. Even better, the car was a pickup that could also go offroad, and the tank was still half filled.

Then, he had wanted to fetch Dalanda, only to see the girl was gone. Wassim didn’t waste time by yelling, and he had darted back to the car, starting it and driving over the hill. With the flashlights on, he had indeed spotted the girl stumbling between the bushes, and so, he had followed her.

The girl was no fool, and by zigzagging, she had escaped the lights a few times. However, Wassim was a skilled hunter, and so, he was able to find her again, leaving her no time to rest. He had seen that Dalanda still was gagged, and he knew that exhaustion would bring her down, sooner or later.

Focussed on his prey, he didn’t care much about the surroundings, and so, he only noticed the car when it was just 100 yards in front of him. Wassim stepped onto the brake.

It was a Land Rover Defender, with its lights out. What the hell was it doing here, away from the road? He then spotted a silhouette stagger towards the car: Dalanda! Wassim drew his gun and got out of the car.

***

Dalanda had gotten side stitches, and she was hyperventilating from fast walking. She hadn’t been able to shake off Wassim, and the car was getting closer and closer. She spotted a light in front of her, but when she looked again, it had gone.

»A Fata Morgana by night? Or am I beginning to hallucinate?«

She stumbled forward, hearing the engine of the car behind her getting louder as Wassim was approaching her. Then, the car suddenly stopped. Dalanda turned around, standing in the light like a deer on a road.

BANG! BANG!

She mewed and reflexively threw herself to the ground when she heard the two shots, followed by a shattering sound. For a terrible moment, she feared that she had been hit as everything went dark, but then, she realized that whoever had shot had hit the lights of Wassim’s car.

»What the-«

A few more shots were fired, and Wassim ran zigzag, away from his car, into the darkness. Seeing a rock, he threw himself behind it, knowing he was doomed. At least one of his unknown attackers had an assault rifle, meaning he could get him without even having to get into Wassim’s range.

He waited for the attack, but instead, he saw the other cars’ lights get on again, and now, he saw it had been two altogether. They left the scene, and Wassim had the feeling that he had gotten away unhurt – but he had lost the girl, too.

***

»Now, what have we got here?«

Backed by the men from the Land Rover, Jean had jumped from the Jeep and gotten to the shadow he had seen close to the car, grabbing the soft bundle and carrying it to the Jeep. Barrot started the car, and whilst Jean stared into the darkness with his gun ready, Ben looked at the squirming and mewing bundle beside him. In the sparse light, he could see it was a black woman, and according to the sounds she made, she was gagged.

Ben slung an arm around her, and he could feel that her elbows were tied behind her back. He pulled her down, in case the other guy was trying something. Barrot and Sid accelerated the cars, so they could leave the situation behind faster.

»Are you okay?«

»Mph! Uhhmm!«

»Look, girl, I have no idea who you are or what we just stumbled into! However, we better get away from here soon!«

Again, the girl mewed, and Ben raised his gun, so the barrel was only inches in front of her eyes.

»That was not a choice! So, you better hold still, until we find some time to figure out what to do with you!«

***

Andrew Davenport was proud to call himself a self-made-billionaire. Sure, he had not come from the gutter – his father had been a local mobster in the Midwest, so, little Andrew had learned the dirty side of business from the scratch. By 18, he had finished High School and, bored by the idea of attending College, he had started an »apprenticeship« in the illegal gambling business his father had been running at a semi-legal club. Here, he had learned not only some important lessons, but also met a few people – men who knew men who knew important men, and before his 25th birthday, Andrew Davenport had started to dip his fingers into other kinds of business, too. Now, 38 years later, he could look behind and say that he had made his way. And yet, though he enjoyed relaxing by his pool, accompanied by a Whiskey and a cigar, he still wanted his business to flourish.

»Seems that Ben Keane is after something in Western Sahara! And since the gorilla of my old business partner Conradi contacted me, I am sure that the old Kraut also tries to get his dirty fingers into whatever Keane is looking for!«

The two men standing beside Davenport’s deckchair nodded; after all, they had already heard about the call from Sato, a man especially the taller of the two had vivid memories. When Jeb and the Japanese had last met, it had ended in a brawl, and Jeb still sported a vanishing bruise on his temple from this encounter. Davenport focussed his bodyguard:

»I know that you wish to beat the shit out of this Sato, and once you have made sure that whatever is going on down there isn’t affecting my business, you may have your final battle with him – though I would appreciate it to have you in my services until I retire!«

Jeb grinned and scratched his head. He wasn’t as dumb as he looked, but there was a reason why Davenport did not involve him into the details of his business. He was a skilled fighter, both with arms and without – but Jeb needed some guidance, and that was why Davenport had decided to send his second henchman, too.

»Johnny, you are responsible for our big guy! How’s your Arabic?«

»Almost not existent, Boss!«, the tall blonde man with the charming smile replied. He knew a few phrases, but he was fluent in both French and Spanish, languages that were also spoken at that part of the world, and this was more languages than both Davenport and Jeb spoke together.

»Too bad that you don’t send us on a mission on a cruise ship again!«

On board the »Mauretania II«, a part of his job, and not the worst of it, had been to seduce Conradi’s secretary, the blonde bombshell Babette Martens. And though he had not lost the focus on his, or rather Davenport’s, interests, he had definitely enjoyed the advantages of the buxom girl.

»Isn’t Morocco where they kidnapped all those blonde girls into their harems? My Great-Great-Grandfather, or was it even one ›Great‹ more, fought with Decatur in 1804!«

John didn’t remind Davenport that a few things had changed since the days Morocco had been part of the Barbaresque States, North African pirates the then young USA had fought two wars against. Like Jeb, he just didn’t appreciate a country where most of the women covered themselves.

»Just keep your eyes open and your mouths closed – except when you report to me, of course! And, Jeb: no fighting with that Japanese until the mission’s over!«

He turned towards his cigar box, a sign that they were dismissed. It was not the first time the two acted on their own, and though they were quite different, they usually managed to complement each other to Mr. Davenport’s benefit.

***

It was more than 1000 kilometres from Ferrol to Algeciras, where the ferry to Tanger would leave at 6 am the next morning. At least, they could use the highway for almost the entire route, allowing them to do the trip in some 12 hours, including pit stops. Melissa did the first quarter of the ride whilst the others tried to rest.

Gabriela now sat on Ana’s right, the gun inside the belt holster, and though she occasionally spoke to Melissa, it was just small talk. On her other side, Sato was either dozing or resting with his eyes closed, and she was looking at the cars around them. However, at a speed of some 80 mph, nobody noticed that the woman in the middle had her mouth taped shut and was clad in just her underwear. Ana had already decided that any escape attempt would have to wait for their first stop, for starting a struggle whilst they were driving would be too risky.

»They need to refuel, and they will also have to follow nature! They can’t do the whole trip nonstop, and then, maybe, I can escape!«

She had tried her bonds, but though they were indeed not too inconvenient, they were considerably tight, and all knots were out of reach. In addition, if Ana squirmed, she felt the crotch rope even more – not painful, but very, very irritating.

Angrily, she glanced at the back of Johanna’s head. What had ridden the blonde to give Sato her own panties to gag her with? Did she think that Sato would betray her with Ana – or that she was even considering such a thing?

»Once this is all over, you will suffer as hard as the Spanish justice allows – maybe even a little harder, if I get a saying in the matter!«

***

The red lights were almost invisible, but Wassim knew they were there, though he kept some distance between himself and the two vanishing cars. With his front lights destroyed, he couldn’t see too much, but it also meant that the others would not easily spot him – whilst he just had to follow their rear lights.

He had quickly realized that they had taken Dalanda with them – and according to the fact that they had crossed the highway instead of driving towards the next city, they did not intend to report what had happened, or to at least set the girl off at the Police Department.

Wassim could tell that these men were not some tourists: they had taken him under fire immediately – not randomly sending volleys into the dark, but just taking care that he knew they were stronger and armed, and would not follow them. At least, that was what they hoped, but Wassim was not so easily deterred.

»I have to know who they are! Then, I can decide what to do!«

What gave him hope was the direction of the two cars: they were getting closer to the Free Zone – the part of Western Sahara where he knew the terrain and also would easily find help, whilst these men were nothing but strangers.

***

Dalanda was less and less sure that she had improved by escaping Wassim’s clutches. The elderly man had not been rude, he had even draped a blanket over her shoulder, even taking care it covered her naked feet – but he had not freed her still bound elbows, nor removed her gag.

»We can talk when we have found a place where we can spend the night! Believe me, I am curious to hear your story – but not now!«

He had showed her his gun, and whenever there had been other people, he had pressed it to her ribs,  a silent warning not to moan or tr to jump off the Jeep. Dalanda was still a prisoner; obviously, Wassim’s enemies weren’t automatically her friends.

But who were these men? Despite his plain clothes, the grey-haired man beside her looked as if he was a businessman whilst the driver and the black man on the passenger seat, the one who had carried her over to the Jeep, looked like soldiers or mercenaries. The few words they exchanged were in French, the language he had also used towards her, though she had clearly heard an English accent.

»Boss!«

For a few miles, they were now following a bumpy road through the hills, and now, having passed a small village some three miles ago, they had reached what looked like a ruin. The Jeep slowed down, and the black man approached the building whilst Dalanda once again felt the gun’s barrel poking into her side.

A few minutes later, the Black returned and reported:

»Clean! I mean, there is no more roof, but we can park the cars on the other side, and there is even enough broken wood for a campfire!«

»I’ve slept worse!«, the elderly man commented, and Dalanda mewed when quite unceremoniously, the Black put her over his shoulder, carrying her towards the ruin. It was indeed nothing more than four askew walls, lots of debris and indeed also some broken beams. Dalanda was placed on the ground and the man started to pile some smaller logs whilst she heard the sound of the cars getting replaced by the voices of at least four more men.

»So, you didn’t appreciate that your car only offered a sausage party?«, another man commented when he saw Dalanda, lit by the first flames from the campfire the black man had just started. He also looked like a soldier, but Dalanda stared at what was coming behind him:

It was three more men, and each of them was carrying something over his shoulder. Dismayed, the girl stared at three pairs of legs, all tied at the knees, and three male hands, two white, one black, clawing into a woman’s butt. There was some faint mewing, and one of the women was flailing her unbound legs and squirming.

Now, she was fully convinced her situation hadn’t improved in the slightest.

***