More Drama Ensues
At eight o'clock in the morning on weekdays the pavements along Cecil Court are abuzz with people, mostly government workers, making their way to their daily nine-to-five grind in central London. Joanne stood at the front door of Leather Bound waiting for a KSN operative to transfer a woman, Megan Walker, to her care. Peter had given her a couple of days notice that she would have a guest, and gave her enough of a description of the woman and her escort for her to recognize them. The morning rush hour was an ideal time to make the transfer as the throng of people provided excellent cover.
Glancing up at the windows across the street, Joanne wondered out of which one she was being observed. Somewhere in the apartments facing Leather Bound was a KSN agent watching the street, just as Peter had done on the day that Gloria and the other women had been passed along to her care. This time the agent wouldn't be the Major, though. Peter would already be at work, tinkering with his electronics, devising some new super secret code, or what ever it was he did.
Scanning the faces of the people walking along the cobblestone pavement, her thoughts drifted to the previous weekend and their flight north to prevent Gloria from falling into the hands of those bastards, the MRU. Everything had gone so well on the drive out of London. The chase had been exciting, and when she was transferred to the truck to escort Gloria and the others she had easily fallen into her ‘caring’ role. But, when she went into the diner with Peter afterwards there was a panic inside her like she had never felt before.
When the MRU had raided the store she had felt more rage than fear. At the diner she knew the MRU was specifically targeting them, and just thinking about it made her feel apprehensive. She took a deep breath and thought about how Peter had sensed her nervousness and had taken her hand. He had gently teased her, and that was all it had taken to calm her down and change that panic into a manageable nervousness.
As much as she had wanted to stay awake on the return trip to engage Peter in conversation, she had fallen asleep before they had even reached the highway. Peter made the decision that she was to put her coat, tracking device and all, back in her closet and leave it there. The batteries would die off within a month and then it would be useless to anyone. He reasoned that removing the device would be a sign that the tiny transmitter had been discovered, and it would be better if the MRU thought she didn't know she had been traced.
The following day, Peter had called her to let her know that Gloria and the other women had all been picked up by a boat in the early hours and were safely in Scotland. Here it was, three days later and another poor dear was running from her oppressors! Megan wasn’t the wife of a high ranking government official like Gloria, though, so they didn’t anticipate the same intensive search for her. In fact, her absence shouldn't even be known for several hours. From what Peter had told her, Megan was simply a housewife who was escaping an abusive husband. The new laws allowed for a husband to treat his wife in practically any way he saw fit without having to worry about any legal consequences. It was obvious that the protections the laws provided brought the worst out of those men who had been suppressing their true nature all along.
A brown trilby hat bobbing through the sea of heads outside her window caught Joanne's attention and her hand went to the doorknob. Moments later she saw the white handkerchief in the left breast pocket of the man's sport coat and recognized the woman next to him by the description Peter had supplied. Petite, short black hair, black collar with three D-rings attached. It was Megan Walker.
As the couple made their way towards her door, Joanne scanned the faces of the crowd around them. No one was looking their way or noticing their advancement towards her door. Four steps, three steps, two steps...Joanne opened the door a crack and Megan slipped through. Knowing her KSN escort would continue walking down the street, Joanne quickly closed and locked the door, keeping one hand on the 'Closed' sign so that it wouldn't bounce around in the window and draw any unwanted attention.
"This way, please," Joanne said as she led the way down the hall to the poetry room.
"Stand here," she said, pointing to a spot on the floor just outside the small, book packed, room. Stepping into the room, Jo triggered the latch that allowed the ancient bookcase to swing back and then she said, "Okay, come in."
Once Megan had entered the room Jo ushered her quickly through the opening and towards the staircase leading down into the secret basement.
"Go down and make yourself at home, but be quiet. I need to stay up here for a few minutes just as a precaution and then I'll be down. You're perfectly safe here."
The look of relief on Megan's face was reward in itself. Joanne allowed her to take a few steps down and then pushed the bookcase back against the wall until she heard a faint click. Walking back into the front sales area, she got out her duster and went to work whisking the counter tops and display tables around the front of the store to kill time. The instructors at the Centre had taught the Minders to show their guests the way to the safe space, and then remain in the main area of the House for a few minutes in case Government forces showed up.
When no such force appeared, Jo made her way down into the safe haven to welcome her guest, explain the House rules, and get her settled in. She stayed and chatted with the woman as long as she could and then made her way upstairs to open the shop for the day. As seemed to be the trend, she was alone in the store until lunch time, and then a few people came in to browse around while they were on their lunch breaks. One of the neighboring shop owners, an elderly man by the name of Alfred, came over to 'check in on her' and ask about Christina. When he spoke of Jo's grandmother it was obvious that he was quite fond of her. They chatted for quite awhile before a few customers entered the store and began browsing through the front sales area. Alfred said his good-byes and headed back to his shop.
Joanne subtly examined each person who had entered the store for any signs that they may be there for any reason other than buying books. There was a single young man, who looked to be in High school, and there was a couple; a middle aged man with, presumably, his wife; collared and on a leash. There seemed to be no threat from any of them. She sat down on the high stool behind the sales counter, picked up the novel she'd been reading before her neighbor came in, and found where she had left off. The customers, meanwhile, wandered into the back rooms to explore.
The young student ended up making a purchase before leaving; a relatively inexpensive book most likely for use on a school assignment. The couple left the store not long afterwards, leaving Joanne alone for the remainder of the afternoon. She hoped Megan was faring okay on her own in the shelter, and while Jo had no desire to see other women needing her services, having only one guest would seem to make the accommodations rather lonely. Her hope was that Peter would be able to move her on to the next station sooner rather than later.
As it turned out, Megan's stay would be a short one. At three o'clock in the morning on Tuesday of the following week a white windowless newspaper delivery van pulled up in the alley behind Leather Bound. Joanne hustled Megan out of the store and into the van. She knew the van would not arouse suspicions as they were the only vehicles on the streets at that time of the morning, dropping off bundles of the daily government propaganda rags throughout the city. Heading back to bed, Joanne wondered how long it would be until the next unfortunate woman arrived on her doorstep.
Life returned to normal for Joanne after Megan's departure. On the one hand, she was operating a safe house that was keeping no one safe, but on the other hand, that was not a bad thing. Her job was to be there in case there was a need, and in the meanwhile, keep Leather Bound Books open and profitable. It was, after-all, her business! She began working on an ad campaign to run in the suburban news flyers. They were relatively cheap ads to run and she was sure there were thousands of people in the outlying areas that had never heard of Leather Bound, or Cecil Court. Maybe she could enlist Alfred's support and they could run a larger, full page, ad together. He sold mostly modern novels so they weren't actually competitors in their respective markets. Old and new. That might be a good theme.
On the Wednesday of the week following Megan's departure Joanne was sorting through a box of books she had just received from her distributor when Peter walked in the front door of the store.
On the Wednesday of the week following Megan's departure Joanne was sorting through a box of books she had just received from her distributor when Peter walked in the front door of the store.
"Hello, Joanne," he said as he made his way towards the sales counter. "How's it going?" He looked over the counter to see the stack of books next to the box. "New arrivals?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied, holding up one of the books. "Just came in today."
Peter looked around the room and then whispered, "Are we alone?"
Joanne nodded, "Yes."
He went on to tell her that they had successfully moved Megan and another woman out of the country, thanks in large part to the information she had gotten from George Wright's planner. It certainly was helpful to know ahead of time where the MRU were going to amass their forces.
"Well that was nice of you to come over here to let me know," Joanne said as she took the last of the books out of the box and peeled the tape so she could compress the cardboard for recycling. "I haven't been doing this for long, but I can see already I'm not going to relax until I hear that my girls have made it to safety."
"I know exactly how you feel, Jo," Peter said. Her concern for the people who passed through her house was a common one among the Minders. They all wanted 'their' people to reach safety. "But that's not the only reason I came over today."
"Oh?" Jo looked up, "What else then?" She could see Peter was hesitating a little and wondered what other reason would bring him over.
"Actually, um," he stammered, "I, um, wanted to ask you out Saturday night?"
"Like, on a date?" Jo asked, her cheeks reddening a little. She saw him nodding and about to say something, but she chimed in quickly, "Sure, I'd love that."
"Well, you might want to change your mind when you hear where I want to take you." He paused for a second to gauge her reaction.
"It's not another fun-filled evening at the Wright's is it?" Joanne backed up with her hands raised as if she were saying 'stay away from me!'
That brought a good laugh out of Peter as he said, "No, no, but it is a work related event."
"Oh boy," Jo said, doubt creeping into her voice. "Is that Minister person going to be there?"
"Sir Humphrey? Most likely. All of the department heads and above are invited. It's an annual affair. The Prime Minister and his staff will be there for sure."
Thoughts of the humiliation she felt at Olivia's party flashed through Jo's head, but simultaneously she felt a rush of excitement at the thought of being on Peter's leash. Those thoughts quickly subdued any ideas of refusing the invitation, regardless of whether it would lead to more humiliation.
"Please say you'll go with me, Jo," Peter said, stepping a little closer to the counter. "Maybe you can pick up on some good gossip from the women that I couldn't get."
"Sooo, this is more of an intelligence gathering expedition than it is a date," Jo said, mischievously trying to see if she could fluster the Major just a little bit.
The little stab had the desired effect as Peter stuttered, "N...no...I...I didn't mean it to sound that way. I don't want to go alone, really, and, well, I'd like to take you out, and these affairs are usual quite lavish. You'll have a good time, I promise."
Joanne couldn't hold back her grin now as she said, "Of course I'll go. I was just trying to make you sweat a little."
"Not fair!" he barked, and then smiled. "Pick you up at six?"
"It's a date," Joanne replied.
The following three days seemed to last a month until at six o'clock sharp on Saturday evening Jo's door buzzer sounded. She had spent the rest of the day Wednesday and part of Thursday scouring social news outlets to see what women were wearing to galas and other posh events. It was disheartening to see the bright smiles on the women's faces at the same time as they were being shown wearing collars and spandex. The enforced dress codes and disciplinary measures were being all too readily accepted as the norm even though they had only been in effect for a couple of years.
Joanne descended the stairs to the front door of her apartment and was somewhat surprised to find Peter in his dress military uniform.
"Oh!" was all she could manage while consciously struggling to keep her jaw from dropping. He was so handsome in the olive green jacket and slacks! Two rows of brightly colored campaign ribbons decorated the area above his left breast pocket. Upon his shoulders were the small crowns that signified his rank as a Major.
Recovering slightly, Joanne said, "You clean up very nicely, Sir."
"As do you, Miss Hallewell," Peter came back as he took in the sight of his lovely date. He recognized the collar around Joanne's neck as being Abigail's. He had forgotten that she still had it from several weekends before when they had gone north together.
After much consternation, Jo had settled on a dark brown leather pencil dress that ended modestly below her knees and hugged her slender frame, ending in a square cut opening that displayed just enough of her generous cleavage as to not be obscene. She hoped her choice of leather over spandex didn't make her stand out, but she simply preferred to wear leather.
After much consternation, Jo had settled on a dark brown leather pencil dress that ended modestly below her knees and hugged her slender frame, ending in a square cut opening that displayed just enough of her generous cleavage as to not be obscene. She hoped her choice of leather over spandex didn't make her stand out, but she simply preferred to wear leather.
"Shall we?" he asked as he moved his arm outward so that he could lead Joanne to his car.
"No leash, sir?" Joanne asked, secretly hoping he would clip one on the collar.
"We'll save that for when we arrive," he said as he held the car door open for her.
As promised, when they pulled up in front of the Cafe de Paris and turned the car over to the valet, Peter clipped a leash onto the small d-ring on the front of Jo's collar. She looped her hand under Peter's arm and walked beside him into the lavish ballroom. An orchestra was set up at one end of the spacious room, and the center of the room was crowded with dancing couples.
Making their way around the perimeter of the dance floor, Peter stopped to exchange greetings with more people than Joanne could keep track of. There were more people at the event than lived in all of Long Riston and it's surrounding communities, and Peter seemed to know them all!
She seemed to be turning some heads, too, but not in a way that was making her feel very comfortable. Of course, she was one of the few there dressed in leather, but her dress seemed appropriately fashionable and looked very similar to many of the latex dresses see saw. No, it wasn't the dress, it was that she, some unknown woman, was with Major Taylor. People were looking at her and then turning to whisper, and some of those she was introduced to, mainly the females, looked her up and down like they were assessing her.
When they finally came to an unoccupied table, Peter held Jo's chair while she sat.
When they finally came to an unoccupied table, Peter held Jo's chair while she sat.
"I can't believe you know so many people!" she exclaimed, making her voice sound cheerful while inwardly grateful to be out of the milling fray.
Peter looked out at the crowd of people milling about and said, "In the Intelligence business you learn to meet as many people as you can. You never know when one of them will drop a little tidbit of useful information."
When the next song started Peter stood and held out his hand. "I'm a terrible dancer, but would you join me for one?"
Joanne took his hand and stood. "If you don't mind having your feet stepped on."
Neither partner was as bad as they claimed and the two made their way gracefully around the dance floor for the next three songs. When the third dance ended a bell chimed and many of the dancers began walking off of the dance floor.
When the next song started Peter stood and held out his hand. "I'm a terrible dancer, but would you join me for one?"
Joanne took his hand and stood. "If you don't mind having your feet stepped on."
Neither partner was as bad as they claimed and the two made their way gracefully around the dance floor for the next three songs. When the third dance ended a bell chimed and many of the dancers began walking off of the dance floor.
"Dinner is served," Peter said as he led Joanne towards the far end of the spacious ballroom. "We'll be seated in what's known as the Blue Room."
"Is that good or bad?" Jo asked.
"Oh, definitely good. It means we are in the Prime Minister's room. The underlings will be seated in the Red Room."
"Well aren't we special?!" Joanne snipped.
Peter laughed as they approached the doorway leading into the dining room. Scanning a large poster board set up on an easel at the entrance of the room, he spotted his name and the number of the table they were to sit at. When they arrived at the table he saw two other couples taking their places. One was his good friends, Nigel and Patricia Green, and the other was the new head of MI5, Daniel Kingsford, and his wife, who was introduced as Victoria.
Ignoring the place cards on the table, Peter held the chair next to Patricia for Joanne to sit down. She was delighted to see a face she actually knew, and the two women quickly struck up a conversation while Peter turned his attention to the others. Although he knew that Daniel had been appointed to head MI5, the domestic intelligence service, he was unaware of Nigel's role in recommending him to the Home Secretary for the position. He learned that they had been friends for many years.
Before long, a steady stream of waitresses flowed out into the dining area carrying platters of dishes. They began serving the tables starting at the end of the room where the Prime Minister sat.
"So who are the chosen few this year?" Nigel asked as he craned his neck to look towards the Prime Minister's table.
"The chosen few?" Jo asked Peter.
"Yes, the ones who are sitting at the Prime Minister's table, and those closest to him." He lifted himself slightly off of his chair so that he could see over the heads of the other diners.
"Looks like a who's who of the MRU," Daniel said.
Victoria slapped her husband's arm and giggled, "Oh aren't you just a poet this evening!" Everyone laughed.
"Well he's not far off," said Sir Nigel as he returned his focus to their own table. "I'm not surprised to see George Wright at a close table, but I am surprised to see that Welch character at the other table. He was at George's party a few weeks back; works as a media consultant or some such thing."
Daniel leaned forward to say something and then leaned back while a waitress began placing plates of food around the table. After she was gone, he leaned in again and said, "He's been in America Inc. for the past two years, working closely with Chairman Trump's propaganda service. He and his wife have only recently returned to the Kingdom. I hear he's coordinating our government's information releases to the press."
"Disinformation, I would say," Nigel muttered.
Daniel looked around at the nearby tables and then at Peter and Joanne, as if sizing them up. "Spot on, Nigel," he finally replied. He was obviously being guarded with what he said in a public place.
Taking a sip of water, the Intelligence chief set his glass down and said, "I don't mean to be rude, my friend, but how is it George gets a head table and you're back here with us? I mean, you are his superior, after all."
All heads turned towards Sir Nigel as he dabbed his lip with his napkin. "We were slated to sit up there, but I passed it on. I rather prefer the company at this end of the room."
Peter wasn't surprised by this response, knowing Nigel as well as he did. He wasn't one to fluff his feathers to be noticed by everyone.
"Does nobody notice the women at the head table and the MRU table?" Patricia said scornfully.
Joanne peered between heads to see that the women at both tables were gagged, and were not eating. One of those women was Olivia.
"Rather extreme," Nigel said to the agreement of the others.
The three couples returned to their meals and carried on with a conversation intentionally devoid of politics. After the spectacular meal had been finished, Joanne excused herself to visit the loo. When she entered it appeared she was alone until she heard a quiet sobbing coming from one of the stalls.
"Hello?" she inquired. "Are you okay in there? Is there anything I can do?"
The sobbing stopped, and there was silence in the room. Joanne finally heard the sound of toilet paper being ripped off the roll and then a familiar voice...
"Jojo?"
"Olivia?"
The stall door opened and Olivia Wright peeked out. Her mascara was smeared over her cheeks from her tears, and the ball gag was hanging around her neck.
Joanne hurried over and hugged the woman. "You poor thing!" she cooed into Olivia's ear. "I'm so sorry to see you like this."
"I can't stand to come to these dreadful things any more!" she sobbed. She pulled on the ball gag. "I mean, why even bother? I'm just sitting there, filling a seat. I haven't even eaten. I hate it!"
Joanne patted the woman on the back while she cried on her shoulder.
"Where have you been, Jojo? Why haven't you called or come over?"
Um... because maybe you placed a tracking device in my coat to start with?
"I've been busy, I guess," she lied.
"I've missed you," Olivia admitted.
"Well, let's get you cleaned up, Miss Libby," Jo said as she pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser and ran a little water on one of them. As she began dabbing the black streaks beneath Olivia's eyes she made a decision to ask the questions that had been going through her head since encountering the MRU in Jaywick.
"Tell me, Olivia, do you really come to Cecil Court every couple of weeks to shop like you said you did when we met?"
"What?" Olivia tilted her head down to look at Joanne.
"You said that when we first met, do you remember? Is that true?"
Olivia didn't answer right away, but then said, "No."
"So why did you come in that day?" Jo asked.
"Lani said she read an article in the Journal about the store and wanted to go see it."
"And the invite to your party? Let me guess, Lani?"
The look of confusion that crossed Olivia's face was unmistakable and real. Things were beginning to add up for Joanne.
"She suggested it to me while we were in the back looking through the books. Why? What are you saying?"
Joanne threw the paper towels in the trash bin and then held Olivia by the shoulders. "When I left your house a few weekends ago I hooked up with Peter and we drove up the coast so he could take care of something for his job. It turned out that we were being followed by the MRU the entire time. They caught up to us when we stopped to eat and questioned us about what we were doing up there, and I have no idea why. After they left we discovered there was a tracking device in the collar of my coat. Any idea how it got there?"
Shaking her head, Olivia said, "No, I swear, Joanne, I...I have no idea." She thought for a moment. "I didn't even touch your coat when you were at my house. Only..."
"Only Lani touched it, didn't she?"
Olivia's face turned ashen as her head continued to shake. "No...no..."
"Listen to me, Olivia," Joanne said, gripping the woman's shoulders a little harder. "Do not trust Lani."
"Oh god, I don't believe this is happening!" Olivia gasped.
"I'm truly sorry, but I believe she's working for the MRU or someone in the government."
Olivia started fingering the ball gag and bringing it up in the back so she could return it to her mouth. "I've been in here too long already. I have to go back." It was if she couldn't process all of the implications of what she was hearing and just had to get out.
"I'll call you in a few days, I promise," Joanne said.
Olivia could only nod as she slipped the ball into her mouth and released the elastic. The poor woman looked shell-shocked, and Joanne hoped she would be okay.
They left the room and returned to their own tables. Peter could tell by Joanne's face that something had happened while she was away, but knew he'd have to wait to find out what.
Later, when they were in his car she told him everything. "Did you put it all together when you heard that Lani and Tyler were in America Inc?" he asked.
"I hadn't realized how connected to the Regime they were until tonight," Jo said. "Then my suspicions went from Olivia to Lani."
"We had just started looking at Tyler a little more closely, but hadn't made any connections yet," Peter admitted. "They've only been back in the country for a little over a month, so Lani must have rekindled her friendship with Olivia as soon as they returned. But with what in mind, I wonder?"
When they pulled up in front of Leather Bound, Joanne said, "Well there always seems to be some sort of drama whenever we go anywhere together, sir."
"That does seem to be the case, doesn't it?" He took her hand to help her out of the car and then escorted her to the door. "Maybe we can try again next weekend? And it won't involve work in any way, either," he promised. "What do you say?"
"I'd like that," was her reply. Her voice was calm, but inside she was bursting. The first time they had gone out together had been an arranged date by Olivia, even though the original idea to invite her turned out to be Lani's. This evening's date could have been viewed as Peter simply needing someone to go with him to the gala, but she had not gotten that vibe from him at all. The invitation to go out again verified the feelings that she had. There was no 'excuse' to ask her out this time.
Peter leaned in and gave Joanne a quick kiss on the cheek, "I'll give you a call, okay?"
"Okay," Jo said with a smile. "I'm looking forward to it." She watched the Major walk back to his car and drive off before opening the door and climbing the stairs to her flat. The excitement she felt over Peter's invitation was muted by her concern for Olivia. The treatment the Minister had subjected the women to at Olivia's party seemed to be just a precursor to how the upper echelon of the regime was now treating all of "their" women. There was a culture of total domination of the female gender being engineered at the upper most levels of government. It was only a matter of time before it started trickling down to the masses and women would be nothing more than slaves.
After a restless night, Joanne opened the store at ten o'clock the next morning and enjoyed a flurry of brisk business after noon. The day was bright and sunny and shoppers seemed to think it was a good day to stroll Cecil Court. At 2:30pm the encrypted cell phone Peter had given her buzzed in the drawer under the register.
"Yes?" she said, keeping her speech brief, as she had been instructed.
"Our gagged friend is missing and the MRU are out in force. Use your apartment if you get a visitor. Okay? Your apartment."
"K," was all Jo said in reply before the line went dead.
Olivia was running.