Part Ten: Gretna

"It looks like there might be another check point up ahead, Peter," Abigail commented as she saw brake lights from the cars ahead of them come on. They had already been stopped twice; once as they left London, and once when they got close to Birmingham. It was really getting ridiculous to live in the UK. All of their freedoms were being stripped away, and for what? Some sort of Utopian society that was only Utopian if you were lucky enough to be a male? How had her beloved country gone backwards so quickly? It was becoming a prison for females!

"We're coming up on the Manchester - Liverpool exchange," Peter replied, as he leaned towards Abby to try and see what she was seeing. "The way M6 cuts between them, I really didn't think we'd be stopped again until we got to Lancaster." He sat back and checked the Nav display on the dashboard and then said, "hopefully it won't be a long wait like it was getting out of London." He'd traveled the M6 motorway a few times and each time it seemed they had added another checkpoint where toll booths once stood.

As it turned out, the line moved through the checkpoint fairly quickly. When they got to the barricade they could see there was a half a dozen local police and two MRU officers manning the checkpoint. A policeman peered into the car, looking into the back seat area, and then asked Peter to pop the boot. Meanwhile one of the MRU officers came up on Abigail's side and pointed his Toshiba M-R Chip Scanner at her. He looked at the readout and said, "A Regenerate, I see. State your name?"

"Abigail Taylor, sir."

The man looked back at the scanner monitor, nodded, and then bent down to look at her, sitting in the passenger seat in her latex outfit. "Look" was a kind word for what he was doing, though. It was more of a lusty leer. Abby's tightly fitting body suit did nothing to hide her feminine qualities and she felt naked, and very uncomfortable, under his gaze. It was odd for her to be concerned about her breast size because her breasts were not overly large, but the black latex suit had some sort of underwire cup support that forced her orbs upwards, filling out the stretchy fabric and enhancing her appearance. Like-wise, the cut of the fabric squeezed her waist slightly, altering her normal shape into somewhat more of an hourglass form.

"Will there be anything else?" Peter asked with obvious disdain for the man's lecherous behavior.

The man looked past Abby to see Peter in his military uniform and his expression quickly changed to one of embarrassment. "No sir, um, that'll be all, thank you." He gave a sloppy salute and then stood to look towards the rear of the car. The police officer had just closed the boot and was giving him the thumbs up sign. Apparently satisfied, they were waved through.

"What a moron," Peter grumbled as he engaged the auto-drive computer and sat back to look out the window at the English countryside as they passed by.

Abigail took a deep breath and glanced over at Peter. What an enigma he was. On the one hand, he was still working for the Regime, helping the bastards track the Kink Support Network through their signals transmissions, and doing his best to crack their codes. She had heard him embrace the new reforms on many occasions, seemingly agreeing with every new law that passed through what was once known as Parliament. Now it was just a bunch of assholes whose sole purpose was to think up new ways to subjugate women. He was everything she thought she should hate.

But on the other hand, he was so damn kind to her, and so protective. He had never forced himself on her, even though it was a husband's 'right' to do as he pleased these days. The New Moral Standards bill that had recently been passed made failing to adopt a submissive attitude or following a simple request an offence. Lacking Respect. Good lord! She could be sentenced to three days in the stocks and receive up to twenty lashes just for saying 'no' to her husband. Women were treated no better than animals, in her opinion. What a joke. Collars! Locked solid metal collars, no less. And the ridiculous latex clothing; all of those fucking politicians must have bought stock in the fiber companies. Not everyone looks good in latex - hello!

Abby put her head back on the headrest as she thought about Peter. After discovering her sexual leanings at an early age, Abby would have never imagined she would be happy living with a man. This man made her happy, though. He was strong, and decisive, and dangerous, yet a gentle and thoughtful lover. Maybe that was why she had never rebelled against him, or the System he represented. Sure, the Regeneration program was supposed to have rewired her brain, but having escaped the MRU without succumbing to their brainwashing she still obeyed him and was a good wife to him. At least she thought she was. She just knew that things could've been a whole lot worse without him, and for that she felt she owed him some respect. She had saved him once, and then he had saved her. That was a thought that she had considered many times over the past two years. Did he feel that he owed her his life, and taking her as his wife was his way of paying her back? Well if it was, she was certainly glad of it. She could only imagine where she would be if he hadn't come along to take her.

Reaching across the center armrest, Abigail took Peter's hand in hers and watched his reaction. While his hand closed on hers, tightly at first, and then more relaxed, he didn't look over at her. There was a sullen mood in the car, and it was coming from him. What had happened to put him in this mood? Was it something she had done? She didn't think so.

The request for her to go with him on this trip to the Signals Station was troubling her, too. It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to visit the various stations around the country, or even to go abroad. Sometimes there were system updates that only he could make. Sometimes there were sensitive matters that he needed to attend to personally. But to bring her along...to a station so close to the border? Gretna Station was once in Scotland, but the regime negotiated a re-alignment of the border northward ten miles to ensure that the listening post remained in British hands.

Some of the people living in Gretna must surely be Scottish. Maybe it was a trap to see if she would run; to see if she would try to contact anyone there. She released his hand, fearing he would sense the sweaty palms these thoughts were causing. Or maybe he wanted her to run, to escape this captivity. Did he think she had a chance to get over the Thatcher Wall, or sneak through a border check point? That was insane! It was well known that the border was heavily guarded.

She already knew she'd be left alone at the hotel when he went to the Station. That would be her chance, even though the hotel in Carlisle was still quite a few miles further away from the border. The question for her was, did she want to try? As much as she felt gratitude towards Peter, and...for lack of a better word...love, she wanted to regain her freedom. If she left as soon as Peter headed out to the Station, she would have a good four hour lead on him by the time he came back and found her gone.

Experience told her to take a deep breath and relax. When faced with an unknown situation, plan for multiple possibilities and be prepared for the one that becomes reality. She just had to decide if she would go if the opportunity presented itself. Yes, or no. Decide.

Yes.

As expected, there was a major checkpoint as, an hour later, they approached Lancaster. The city was on the shore of the Irish Sea, and a known hotbed of Resistance activity. Peter had seen less secure checkpoints in Bosnia and Ukraine. The Regime was sure serious about keeping their women from fleeing the country. And why not? It would be pretty boring with just a bunch of guys hanging around.

Reaching behind the passenger seat, Peter's fingers fumbled in a sack he had stowed there, and finally pulled out a gag with a black ball attached to it.

"Put this on, please. If they're going to be asking questions, they can ask me."

"I would prefer that, too. Thanks." Abby took the gag and pushed the ball past her teeth. Taking each of the strap ends, she pulled them behind her neck and slipped one end through the buckle and secured it.

The checkpoint turned out to be very similar to the last one they had encountered, but much more militarized. Larger guns, and more of them. Sniffer dogs, ID checks, and two separate MRU chip scans. When they finally made it through the various inspection stations they approached the checkpoint gate. An MRU officer leaned down, looked into the car, and asked Peter what his business was in Lancaster.

"I'm just going to stop to stretch and get something to eat, and then continue up to Carlisle."

It didn't pass by Abby's attention that the two men talked as if Peter was the only one in the car. Other than having her chip scanned, she was being completely ignored.

"I'm afraid the motorway past Lancaster is Authorized Access only, Major. The entire area beyond here is a security zone."

"That's quite understandable," Peter said. "Hopefully our Scottish neighbors will come to their senses soon, and then all of this will be unnecessary."

"You're right about that, sir."

Peter reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. "This should be all I need to get through, right?"

The MRU man took the paper and looked it over. "Yes sir, you'll have no problems." He motioned for the guard in front of them to lift the bar crossing the road and then stepped back from the car.

With a salute that snapped, he said, "Have a nice day, sir," and then walked towards the next car in line. Peter noticed the difference in demeanor between this MRU trooper and the man at the last check point. He could expect a little more discipline and professionalism the closer to the border they got; something to keep in mind.

"I'm starving," Peter said as reached over to take Abigail's hand. "How 'bout you?"

Still gagged, Abby just nodded her head. She was plenty hungry, and needed to use the restroom. The idea of going anywhere public in the latex outfit filled her with dread, but there was no way around it so she would just have to endure the humiliation. Now that they were off the motorway and making their way through the sea-side city, she could see that the populace was fully integrated with the new laws of the land. All of the women she saw outside were fully clothed in latex, and were accompanied by men. All were collared and leashed, all were gagged, some were even hooded. At least she knew now that she wouldn't stand out, and that helped to calm her nerves.

Peter pulled into a parking spot across from an old stone building with the sign, "The Three Mariners" over the door. The afternoon sun was directly overhead, and those dining outside were shaded by large umbrellas over their tables. A steady flow of patrons were flowing in and out through the front door. It looked like quite a popular establishment.

Reaching behind her seat again, Peter dug in his little duffel and found a leash. "Sorry," he said as he clipped it onto the d-ring at the front of the shiny chrome collar that encircled Abby's neck. "This area is highly patrolled, and I don't want any trouble from the locals, understand?"

Abby nodded. She didn't want any trouble either. Peter had gotten out of the car, but she just waited for him to come around to her side and open her door. His actions were once regarded as chivalrous, but these days the woman waited so that the man could lead her out of the car on her leash. Heaven forbid she should take two steps in public without a man holding her leash! Everyone would stop what they were doing and point their fingers at her, and then off to the town square she would be dragged to be publicly flogged! Bloody hell.

Upon entering the restaurant, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. After being escorted to a table, Abby nodded in the direction of the Ladies and waited for Peter to unhook the leash from her collar. Then, to her surprise, he reached in under her hair to unbuckle the ball gag. Looking around the restaurant, she could see that the majority of the women were free to speak. Peter must have observed the same thing.

As she was about to go into the Ladies, she snuck a quick peek back towards the table where Peter sat, and saw him turn away as he put his cell phone to his ear. Even before she had left the hallway, he had ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. Who did he just make a ten second call to? Sure as shit that was a signal call; a call made to simply alert someone you are at a pre-arranged location, or that you are on schedule. Whoever had been waiting for that call knew where Peter was now. Abby's tummy was doing flips as her suspicions were growing that there was more to the trip than she had been told.

While Abby was in the Ladies, Peter ordered for them. It was obvious now why the place was so busy; the food was unbelievably good! They chatted while they ate, mostly about the decor and the other patrons in the restaurant, and Peter explained that he nearly always stopped there when he had to travel up to Gretna Station. Abby demanded she be brought along from then on, which made Peter laugh.

As they waited for their plates to be cleared after finishing their meals, Peter announced that he was going to the loo and then to get another beer. Alone now, Abby observed the other diners, and especially how the women behaved. Even though they were not gagged, they seemed to be quite subdued, as if they were still not able to talk freely. Being a submissive, Abby was quite content to limit her speech. She had no desire to dominate conversation, to attract attention to herself as she spoke, or make her thoughts known to others. There were times, when she served Jessica, that her Mistress solicited her thoughts and opinions, and she would talk until told to be quiet. That was one of the things she loved about her Mistress; she valued her ideas, and listened to her intently when she was asked to share her thoughts.

Oh Jessica! Where are you? Soon after Peter had taken her from the MRU facility, she had asked him if he knew where Jessica was. He said she was a "high value" Regenerate, and that she would most likely be married off to someone high in the Regime after completing her reprogramming. They had both kept their eyes and ears open for any mention of her, but it was as if she had simply vanished. If it was true that someone high up had taken her, why wouldn't they show her off? Why hadn't Peter discovered where she was? If anyone could dig out that information, she believed he could.

The door to the Men's opened and Peter nodded to her as he headed towards the bar. Abby caught a ray of sunlight flash across the floor as the front door of the restaurant opened and then closed. A man walked past her and came to rest next to Peter at the bar. To the untrained eye there was no interaction between them, but Abby could see a very slight movement on the side of the man's neck that indicated that he was speaking. When Peter returned to the table he didn't have a beer in his hand.

"On second thought, having another beer would probably not be a good idea." He laid several bills on the table and said, "I don't want to stop for the loo before we get to the hotel."

"You're probably right, dear," Abigail agreed as she stood and handed her husband the leash.

Twenty minutes later they had cleared the checkpoint allowing them onto the restricted portion of the motorway between Lancaster and Carlisle. Because of the restrictions there were no other cars on the road at all, so Peter punched in 90mph on the auto-drive computer and activated the fully automated cruise control. Satisfied the sedan was operating efficiently, he sat back and looked over at his wife.

"There won't be any more checkpoints, so we'll be there in less than an hour," he said, noticing that Abigail's head was turned towards her window and she didn't look over at him when he spoke.

Abby heard him, but was deep in thought. Since they had left the restaurant she had been trying to decide how she should proceed. She had earlier decided she would make a break for the border if she was given the opportunity, but seeing how militarized the area had become she knew that was folly. She could only imagine how heavily guarded the Wall and checkpoints would be, and without any sort of prior intelligence on the situation at the border, making a run for it was simply stupid. She was not stupid.

Peter was running an operation of some sort, that much was obvious to her. If it didn't involve her he wouldn't have brought her along, as she would be an unnecessary distraction. Unless she was the distraction. Was he using her to distract the MRU? That didn't make any sense. No, this was about her, and bringing her this close to the border could really only mean one thing. It was time to probe.

"Is that what your contact at the restaurant told you? That there's no more checkpoints?" Abigail finally looked over at Peter to gauge his reaction to the mention of his little clandestine meeting. In case she had somehow forgotten, she witnessed the control that Peter Taylor had over his emotions, his expressions, and his demeanor. He didn't even flinch, just simply looked over at her and smiled.

"It is, as a matter of fact," he said, not reacting at all to Abby's mention of the brief update from his contact. He continued on in an even tone, "We're clear all the way into town, and to the Station. The next checkpoint is on the north side of Gretna, but we'll be off the motorway by then."

With the conversation started, Abby pressed on. "And what will we be doing once we get to Carlisle? Am I to stay at the hotel alone while you go on to the Station, as you said, or have there been other plans all along?"

Now Peter's smile broadened and his eyes sparkled as he appreciated Abby's reading of the situation. "I'm going to miss you so much, Abigail," he said. "It's been an absolute pleasure working with you."

Although she had already prepared herself for the possibility that she wouldn't be returning to London, hearing Peter say it was still a shock. Now it was her turn to at least try to impress him. With an equally authentic smile and even tone to her voice, she let him know she understood what he meant, "You could've at least let me pack my things."

"Don't worry, I packed for you. Your belongings are in the boot."

Not everything! Abby's heart sank a little, knowing that the items she had hidden in the house were left behind.

They rode in silence for half an hour while Abby thought, and Peter waited for more questions. For Abby, the revelation that Peter had planned to free her set off a ripple of thoughts about recent events and their life together.

"How long have you known?" she finally asked.

"About the Regeneration? I've always known." Peter detected a brief squint of Abby's eyes. She wasn't expecting that one! "We have a man in the Regeneration Center who was monitoring you the entire time."

He's known all along?!! A million thoughts flashed through Abigail's mind. Day in and day out for the past two years she had been forced to maintain a cover that had been blown from the start. It had all been for nothing, totally unnecessary, and he knew it. The bastard!

"You knew?!" Abby blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me?! Why did I have to pretend twenty-four hours a day to be this...this...Stepford wife?"

Peter had never seen Abby as furious as she was at the moment. It was understandable, and he had of course prepared himself for it. There was no smile on his face now, as he was sure she felt somewhat humiliated for having to behave like she had been, and angry at him for making her live like that. It was not a time for levity, and he wanted his expression to convey how seriously he took her objections.

"I'm truly sorry, Abs, but there are good reasons. Everything was planned for your protection and for your future, and mine."

"What future? I have no future." Abby's voice was quieter, maybe because Peter had called her 'Abs'. That was Jessica's pet name for her, and hearing it spoken had a calming effect on her.

"We're hoping you'll join the Network once you're free." Peter waited a moment for Abby to digest that, and then continued, "You've survived under the Regime's magnifying glass for two years and we're counting on your help to train recruits to cross back over into the country..."

"For what reason? Who'd want to come back here?" Abby broke in.

"To help women escape, or to organize resistance cells. There's lots of very important work to be done to take back our country from this regime."

"You could've told me this before."

"Doing what you did was hard enough!" Peter exclaimed. "I wasn't about to add more to your burden by making you hide even more secrets. I had to keep this from you."

They rode for another five minutes in silence. Peter could see by the Nav unit that they were quickly approaching Carlisle. The icy air in the car had warmed somewhat, and Peter could see his companion relaxing a little bit. That was a good sign. He really didn't want Abigail to be mad at him. It was just a lot for her to deal with all of a sudden.

Finally, she said, "You said everything was planned for my future and for yours. What are you going to do? How is it going to affect you if I flee the country?"

"You're not going flee, Abby, you're going to be kidnapped, kicking and screaming, from our house."

Abby looked over at Peter, confusion written in her expression. "But I thought..."

Peter reached over, grabbed the rectangular pendant on the chain around her neck; the one that had "Property of Peter Taylor" inscribed on it: the one he had told her to never remove, and pulled it away, breaking the thin chain.

Holding it up, he said, "You will return home with me tomorrow, and after I go to the office a team of Network scum will break into our house and take you. Shortly after that your signal will be lost."

Her chip had been in the pendant all along! "Seriously? I was never implanted?"

"No." Peter looped the chain over the rear view mirror and let it dangle in the sunlight. "We had no way to defeat the chip back when you were taken to the Center, but our people were already working on it. We took a big chance by not implanting you, but we managed to get away with it. Once our techs figured out how the chips worked, it took nine months of making incremental changes to the circuitry until we were able to reprogram them ourselves. Each change had to be done subtly to slip by the government inspectors."

Now Abby sat up and her expression changed to one of excitement.

"You're telling me the Kink Support Network is that technologically advanced? It's really an active underground movement?" The State controlled media made it seem like the KSN was just a bunch of hooligans stirring up trouble after drinking too much.

Peter grinned and nodded. "It's much bigger than you can imagine, Abby, and you can be a part of it if you want." He was relieved to see her perk up.

As the car crested a slight hill, they entered the city of Carlisle. Taking the vehicle out of auto-drive, Peter took control and maneuvered the car off the motorway at the next exit. Five minutes later they were on the north side of the city and pulling into a motor inn. Peter parked in front of one of the rooms, instructed Abby to stay in the car, and walked back to the main office. When he returned he motioned her out of the car and through the door he unlocked. Once she was inside, he went back to remove a small suitcase from the boot, and to take her chip from where it was hanging on the mirror.

"Okay, we have about half an hour, and it'll take twenty minutes to get to Gretna, so use the facilities, and then change into this." Peter opened the suitcase and withdrew a plastic garment bag that had been vacuumed flat, along with a pair of black leather boots. Abby took the items and went into the loo.

After closing the door behind her, she placed the items on the vanity and began stripping out of the horrid latex body suit. Her flesh was hot and clammy after being held hostage in the outfit all day and she looked over at the shower. She had ten minutes, it was enough time. First things first, though, and she sat on the toilet to relieve herself. The time sitting also allowed her a moment to try and collect her thoughts.

I'm being set free! Her heart was beating wildly. The thought of it was incredible, unbelievable, exciting, and terribly scary. Having this sprung on her at the last moment made it hard to even think straight. She trusted Peter, though, and knew he was in control of the situation. But what about afterwards? What about when she got to the other side? How was she going to get over? There were so many questions...but she had no time to really ponder them as their clock was ticking. She hurried and jumped in the shower, not even getting the water to the right temperature first. It was just important for her to get wet, wash the sweat off, and get out.

As quick as the shower was, it was still very refreshing. Abigail stepped out of the enclosure and dried off. Pulling the plug on the vacuum pack, she shook the clear plastic garment bag by the corners until it decompressed. Running the zipper around the top edges of the bag, she opened it and began removing the items; a black leather skirt, a pair of black lace panties, gray control top stockings, a white long sleeve blouse, and a small makeup kit.

Really? Peter was sending her to the other side in this? At least it wasn't latex!

Dressing as quickly as she could, she had just pulled up the leather skirt when Peter knocked softly on the door. "Can I take your old clothes yet? I'm ready to pack them up."

"Sure, come on in," Abby called back. "I'm almost ready."

The door opened and Peter edged through. "Wow, that looks better than I imagined." He looked into the mirror to see Abby's face and then quickly added, "Not that I didn't think it would look good, I knew it would, but you really look great."

Abby smiled at his compliment and started brushing a little of the tinted powder on her cheeks. She wondered if Peter had picked the kit out for her, because it was exactly the combination of colors that complimented her complexion and hair. After tossing her hair a little, she exited the washroom and saw Peter neatly folding the latex outfit into the suitcase. He turned to her and held up a key.

"Let's get you out of that stupid collar, shall we?"

Abby's grin widened. This was really happening! She turned around so the lock at the back of the shiny chrome collar faced Peter, and felt him jostling the collar and lock. Moments later the collar was being placed in the suitcase with the latex clothing.

"Okay," Peter said as he zipped the bag closed and lay the silver pendant holding her tracking chip across the bag. "I'll pick this up on my way back later tonight, and then toss the suitcase into the River Tyne on my way home."

Home. Now a little bit of sadness crept into Abby's mind, and she understood the sullenness she had detected in the car earlier. Peter was fully aware that she would not be accompanying him home. She was touched that he would be affected by that thought. Peter Taylor, the stoic spy, so flawless in his demeanor and skilled in his craft was unable to mask his emotions when it came to her. Now she felt like crying. It had not been a life she wanted to live, but he had made it as easy for her as he could. She could see that now.

Peter had moved to the door and was peeking outside. "It's clear." Abby heard the clicking of the car doors as he remotely unlocked the vehicle. "Let's move."

Pulling herself together, Abby moved quickly out of the room and took the few steps to the car, with Peter right behind her. He started it up and told her to bend down in her seat so no one would accidentally see her leaving the motel. Once on the road he allowed her to sit up again and they rode in silence for the twenty minutes it took to get to Gretna, each consumed by their own thoughts.

It was nearing five o'clock by the time they entered the sleepy little former tourist trap of a town. There were few cars, and even fewer people to be seen. They drove mostly down side streets, avoiding the central area of the town, and then turned down a narrow black-topped lane that cut to the east through a dense forest. After a few minutes Peter slowed the car and crept along the road until they came to a dirt cut-off. They slowly followed the road until they were a good fifty yards away from the paved road.

When they came to a stop, Peter pointed at one of the radio towers that rose up over the forest. "When the light at the top blinks green, we can proceed."

The thought that they were covertly entering a facility in their own country hit Abby hard. This was the type of cloak and dagger shit they used to do in foreign lands. England had become a foreign land!

"I'll do what ever they need me to do once I'm over there," Abby said. "Anything." She wanted her old England back; the England that she loved.

To her surprise, Peter reached over, picked up her hand from her lap, and brought it to his lips. "I know you will, Abby. We've known all along we could count on you." He kissed her hand and placed it back in her lap.

"There it is," he said quietly and shifted the car into drive. Abby looked up to see the light at the top of the tower flashing green.

"What was going on that we had to wait?"

Peter was steering the car back onto the paved road and when they were on their way again he answered, "Everyone at the Station right now are KSN agents or sympathizers. It's taken me over a year to arrange that through transfers and retirements, but I finally have one full shift of people who are with us. I'm slowly doing that at all of the other Stations around the country."

"Who are you Peter Taylor?!" Abby gasped, and then laughed.

Peter laughed, too. "Just your average patriot."

Abby knew he was anything but average.

It only took a couple of minutes for them to reach the high chain-link fencing of the Signals Station. A gate in the fence rolled back as they approached it and a uniformed guard stepped out of the sentry box and stood waiting for Peter to stop next to him.

"Welcome back, sir!" the guard said as he reached in to shake Peter's hand.

"Thanks, George," Peter replied as he shook hands with the man.

"This is her?" George asked, looking past Peter to Abby.

"It is."

"Awesome!" His smile was broad as he waved at Abby and then stood up straight. "Okay, the others are waiting for you, and the last I heard everything's still on schedule." He motioned towards another guard standing near one of the buildings and then stepped back from the car. "In you go, Sir."

"Thanks," Peter replied and pulled away from the man.

The other guard was pulling back on a large door that ran on tracks along the wall of the building. When the door was fully open, large tractors and other grounds-keeping equipment could be seen inside. Abby could see a few people standing around near the equipment, and then as they approached more came out into the open. There were a few military personnel, and the rest looked like civilians. Peter stopped the car in the middle of the large building and opened his door.

"Stay here," he said as he got out of the car.

He walked around the car to Abby's door and opened it, and then offered her his hand. "I wanted to do this without having a leash in my hand."

Abby grinned and took his hand, allowing him to guide her out of the car. By now the group of people had encircled them and Peter began shaking their hands and introducing Abby to each of them. To Abby it seemed like being introduced to a group of friends she never knew she had. The atmosphere inside the building had the fragrance of something she had not been around in two years: freedom.

"The cart is here," a man shouted from the other end of the room.

"The cart?" Abby questioned.

"Yes," Peter directed Abby across the room. "We've dug a tunnel big enough for a golf cart to go through. It takes about twenty minutes to reach the other side of the border."

Abby saw several of the men approach an enclosed office in the corner of what looked like the maintenance area. To her surprise, as the men pushed against the small structure, the entire office began to move as if it was on wheels. After they had moved it about fifteen feet out into the maintenance bay, a large hole was revealed in the wall behind where the office once sat. Seconds later the golf cart emerged from the tunnel. Five seconds after that, Abby thought she was going to faint.

Stepping out of the cart was her Mistress, Jessica Smythe.

"Well, Abs, are you going to come give me a kiss or not?!" Jessica demanded.

Abby could feel everyone's eyes on her. She glance briefly at Peter; maybe a result of the conditioning that required her to ask her 'husband' for approval to move. Seeing his nod, she ran to Jessica's waiting arms.

Heaven had come to her.