On the Run
"Friends and family of Mrs. Olivia Wright, along with local law enforcement, are searching the area surrounding the Wright's posh Knightsbridge townhouse this evening for any clues as to the whereabouts of the well-known socialite. Here's our girl on the scene, Ginger Jannette, with more on this breaking story from Knightsbridge...Ginger?"
"Thank you, Mr. Reynolds, sir. I'm standing in front of the two story home where Mrs. Olivia Wright, the wife of George Wright, one of the nations top officials in charge of securing our borders, has gone missing. As you can see behind me there are representatives from several agencies present with the MRU, of course, being heavily represented here tonight. During a briefing earlier I was told by one official, who asked not to be identified, that foul play has not been ruled out and authorities are inside the Wright's lavish home awaiting ransom demands if they are to come."
"What have you learned about the circumstances around Mrs. Wright's disappearance, Ginger?"
"Thank you for that question, Mr. Reynolds, sir. I've been told by Mrs. Wright's close personal friend, um," looks down at her notes, "a Mrs. Lani Welch, that the Wrights attended an annual gala event last night at the fabulous Cafe de Paris. The couple arrived home around eleven o'clock. Director Wright was heard telling authorities that his wife was in good spirits upon their return from the event and that she had enjoyed the evening very much. Being a man so vital to our national security, Mr. Wright arose early this morning to leave for work and that is the last time he saw his wife. It was actually Mrs. Welch, who had been escorted over to visit with her dear friend, that was the first to discover that Mrs. Wright was not at home where she belongs. Back to you, sir..."
"Yes, yes, where she belongs, indeed. A very grave situation there in Knightsbridge, but now for a look at the day's weather we turn to...."
Olivia turned away from the television that was positioned over the bar and sat back into the shadows of her corner booth. The tavern was small, dimly lit, and sparsely populated for a Sunday afternoon. It had been nearly a year since she had been anywhere near Soho and she hoped it would be the last place the authorities would think to look for her. Ironically, with the regime's top-down roll-out of the Moralist Policies the new laws had yet to be enforced in the city's slums and red light districts. As the seven o'clock curfew hour neared, though, she feared these areas might begin to garner closer attention. There were very few places an un-escorted woman could legally be after curfew.
"Thank you, Mr. Reynolds, sir. I'm standing in front of the two story home where Mrs. Olivia Wright, the wife of George Wright, one of the nations top officials in charge of securing our borders, has gone missing. As you can see behind me there are representatives from several agencies present with the MRU, of course, being heavily represented here tonight. During a briefing earlier I was told by one official, who asked not to be identified, that foul play has not been ruled out and authorities are inside the Wright's lavish home awaiting ransom demands if they are to come."
"What have you learned about the circumstances around Mrs. Wright's disappearance, Ginger?"
"Thank you for that question, Mr. Reynolds, sir. I've been told by Mrs. Wright's close personal friend, um," looks down at her notes, "a Mrs. Lani Welch, that the Wrights attended an annual gala event last night at the fabulous Cafe de Paris. The couple arrived home around eleven o'clock. Director Wright was heard telling authorities that his wife was in good spirits upon their return from the event and that she had enjoyed the evening very much. Being a man so vital to our national security, Mr. Wright arose early this morning to leave for work and that is the last time he saw his wife. It was actually Mrs. Welch, who had been escorted over to visit with her dear friend, that was the first to discover that Mrs. Wright was not at home where she belongs. Back to you, sir..."
"Yes, yes, where she belongs, indeed. A very grave situation there in Knightsbridge, but now for a look at the day's weather we turn to...."
Olivia turned away from the television that was positioned over the bar and sat back into the shadows of her corner booth. The tavern was small, dimly lit, and sparsely populated for a Sunday afternoon. It had been nearly a year since she had been anywhere near Soho and she hoped it would be the last place the authorities would think to look for her. Ironically, with the regime's top-down roll-out of the Moralist Policies the new laws had yet to be enforced in the city's slums and red light districts. As the seven o'clock curfew hour neared, though, she feared these areas might begin to garner closer attention. There were very few places an un-escorted woman could legally be after curfew.
Close personal friend! Dear friend! The thought of her dear friend made Olivia's hand shake as she reached for her drink. What had happened to the sweet submissive Lani that she had grown up with? When Lani and Tyler had returned from America Inc she had been so excited to hear from Lani and to take up where they had left off with their relationship. If anything, it was more exciting than it had been before due to the illegality of any sort of lesbian interaction.
Bile rose in Olivia's throat and she took a sip of her wine to wash it back down. Had someone Lani reported to given her approval to engage in such activities? Had she reported everything they had done? And had Joanne now been reported to be a deviant?
What Joanne had told her in the restroom the previous evening had been too unbelievable to even consider at the time. But as the evening wore on she watched Lani and Tyler at the table next to hers and how they interacted with the others at their table. Gagged as she was, Lani was unable to contribute to the conversation, but she was attentive and nodded vigorously as her husband sucked up to that horrible man, Sir Humphrey. Not being able to contribute anything at her own table, she had spent the time thinking. Thinking about the days before she met Joanne. Thinking about the hubbub over that woman who was missing; the wife of that chap from the Justice Department. Thinking about George's voice coming from his office, shouting into his phone something about Cecil Court.
What was it? Oh, right, they had lost the woman somewhere in Cecil Court. George had been furious.
The last thing Olivia wanted to think was that her closest friend was secretly working for the MRU. But, thinking about it now, in light of Joanne's accusation, made her wonder why Lani had showed her the article in the London Journal? Why had she suggested they go to the Grand Opening of the little book store? And once they were alone in one of those little book lined rooms, why did she suggest that "it would be fun" to invite the shop owner to the party? There were too many damn whys?!
It didn't take a genius to see the connection, though. Cecil Court. Not that she could believe anyone would suspect Joanne of helping that woman, but maybe Lani used the store's Grand Opening as an excuse to scout the area...maybe even cultivate some contacts among the locals. Lani had obviously read the column in the Journal and knew Joanne was new to the area. She wouldn't be likely to have made any good friends yet, so it was an ideal time to recruit her as an informant. Being married to George had taught her a thing or two about those sorts of things.
Or maybe none of that was true, but she still kicked herself for being so blind to Lani's manipulations. She was supposed to be the dominant one; Lani was the submissive. Yet, in her exuberance to please her little sub, she had complied with her every wish. Talk about Topping from the Bottom!
The wine in her glass helped calm Olivia's nerves, but she was still very worried. She knew now that she had made a big mistake in leaving the house before thinking this through. A plan might have been helpful!! Maybe a disguise? Could she have thought of that? A wig? Some old clothes, perhaps? God, she was such an idiot! And what of Jojo? She would, no doubt, be receiving a visit from George's goon squad, if she hadn't already. She would just die if she was the cause of Joanne being sent to a Regeneration facility. That thought made her shiver. Moral Regeneration! She didn't even want to think about what happened to women in those ghastly places. At least George was in charge of border security and not involved in running those horror houses.
Not that the job hadn't been offered to him, but he had ten years invested in securing the borders and ports of entry into the country, and he wasn't about to give up his little fiefdom for what they said was a promotion. Having his department placed under the auspices of the MRU had made him quite upset at the time, but he still reported directly to Sir Nigel so that kept the MRU out of his business, for the most part. She could tell it grated on him, though, to be using his resources for keeping people in the country rather than keeping them out. But he was a career government employee, and he did the job he was being handsomely paid to do, and he did it well. She had to respect the man for that.
Unfortunately, his vast network would now be diligently searching for her. She could only imagine the resources that had been assembled to track her down. And she had no idea how she was going to elude them!
She had briefly considered going to Joanne's, but was sure that her house and store would be the first place they'd look and would most likely be under surveillance. She then tried to think of anyone who might owe her a favor. Ach, they were all elites, like her. They wouldn't stick their necks out for her any more than she would for them. But there was one woman she had helped a few years before who might be willing to help her now, and she was hoping that her habits hadn't changed.
Movement to her left drew Olivia out of her thoughts. Coming out of a door against the far door, a man she recognized as the owner of the pub was heading her way. He slid into the bench seat opposite her and took a quick glance back towards the bar area.
"You're welcome to stay here as long as we're open, Mrs. Wright, but at some point you'll have to leave," he said softly.
Surprised by the man's directness, Olivia hesitated for a second and then said, "I appreciate your hospitality, sir. I really do." She looked around and saw that no one was taking any notice of them at all. "Do the performers from the Prince Edward still hang out here after the show?" she asked. The Prince Edward Theatre was right next door to the pub.
"Being a Sunday night they should be coming in around nine o'clock. Why do you ask?"
"It's possible that I can get some help from one of them. Do you now if..."
The man put his hand up. "Don't say any more, lady. I don't want to know and it's better if I didn't."
"Oh, sure, I understand."
"Listen," he said, leaning in over the table. "I don't need no problems from them fuckin' RU's, so if they bust in here you slink your butt out that door right behind you there. It leads out to the alley."
"I don't mean to be a problem, sir. I'll go as soon as I can."
Softening his tone, he said, "You're not the problem, lady. Wadaya say I bring you another drink, on the house?"
"You're too kind, but I can pay," Olivia said as she reached for her purse.
The man stood up and waved her away. "Keep it. You may need it later."
Watching the man leave, Olivia felt some of her anxiety fade away. Looking around at the dive bar, with its tacky fluorescent ale signs and crinkled, yet framed, theatre posters, she felt more comfortable than she did at any of the posh restaurants she frequented with George. These were real people, not the fakes that fawned over her, saying whatever they thought she wanted to hear...hoping for that big tip at the end of the service.
"Thank you so much, sir," Olivia said as the pub owner set another glass of wine down in front of her and then headed back to the bar with just a nod. She wondered if he had known she was there all along or if he recognized her when he came out of the back room. Either way, he obviously was not going to call the "ru's" on her.
With nothing to do but sit, think, sip her drink, and hope no one else recognized her, the time passed slowly until eight-thirty when a group of people bustled into the pub and ponied up to the bar. They were in high spirits and were quite a lively bunch. Must be nice! A few minutes later another couple came through the door and then a group of ten or twelve people pushed their way into the pub.
Finally, just as the pub owner had predicted, at a little past nine o'clock a large group of people came through the door and received a round of applause from those already in the pub. Bows and waves were returned by the actors and dancers as they made their way towards the tables in an open area of the pub. Olivia peered out from the darkness of her corner booth, looking for the one person in the crowd she felt she could trust.
It was the laugh that drew her attention to a tall blonde woman who was half-hidden amidst the group. It was unmistakably Roksana Demidov, one of the rising stars of the London theatre scene. A Russian immigrant, Roksana had been abandoned with nothing but the clothes on her back by the man who had brought her to the country. Knowing only a few words in English, Roksana was unable to secure a job and soon found herself on the doorstep of the Broadwick Gentleman's Club. Understanding English was not a prerequisite for taking off one's clothes, and she was able to eke out a living at doing just that. It helped quite a bit that the young woman had studied dance while at school in Volgograd. Her routines were not exactly appreciated by the management, however, as she was not content to simply take the stage and quickly strip off her scant costume, but rather wished to present a well-choreographed routine. This, of course, left her in her costume longer and the management felt it hurt her tips, which in turn affected their bottom line.
Not long after Roksana Demidov became a name recognized in the red light district, Olivia had been persuaded by a friend to take a position on the Board of Directors of the Prince Edward Theatre. The venue was in a period of transition as the larger Soho performance halls were trying to escape the seedy image of the area and cash in on the legitimate entertainment industry that was blossoming in the district. Hungry for new talent to fill their rosters, Olivia had an idea of looking for backup dancers among the various dance halls in the area. She happened to catch Roksana's act one evening, recognized her potential, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Drinks and appetizers were brought to the tables of the theatre troupe and Olivia watched in silence as they sated their appetites while occasionally scribbling out autographs for the other patrons in the pub. After a while, Roksana backed away from the table and excused herself to go to the Ladies. When she was clear of her group, Olivia cleared her throat to attract the blonde dancer's attention and then sat forward into the soft overhead light.
"Olivia?" the woman said in surprise, only to see Olivia's finger come up to her lips to silence her.
Roksana looked back towards her group but saw that no one had noticed her outburst. "My god, Olivia!" she gasped quietly when she drew closer. "I saw news in change room." Her English had improved since Olivia last spoke to her, but the Russian's accent was still quite pronounced. "What's going on? Are you okay?" She slid into the booth next to Olivia and took her hands.
Olivia held her friend's hands and lamented, "I'm fine, Roxy, but I fear I'm going to be in a lot of trouble."
"Oh dear!" Roksana leaned over and wrapped Olivia in her arms. "You're not kidnapped then? Why are you not gone home?" she whispered.
"I...I'm not going home, Roxy."
"No?" the blonde sat back to look at Olivia. "What...where you will go?"
Olivia sat looking at Roksana. Where was she going? She had been so distraught earlier that she had just left the house and started walking with no real destination in mind. The money she had removed from their safe would've normally taken her anywhere in the world she wanted to go, but as she walked she realized that she couldn't just strut into Heathrow and buy a ticket. While waiting to see if Roksana would come to the pub the thought of going to France where she had cousins had occurred to her. The question still remained...how to get there?
"I'd like to go to the mainland, if at all possible," Olivia said, looking past Roksana to see if anyone had noticed them talking yet. When no response came back from her friend, Olivia looked back to see Roxy studying her face. Their eyes met, and Olivia could see that she was being appraised. And why not? After not seeing Roksana for a couple years, she shows up and tells her she wants to leave the country? Her? The wife of a Government official? She felt ashamed for even thinking of involving the young woman in her attempted flight.
"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the other woman's gaze and looking down at the table. "I shouldn't have come here. I should go."
Roksana took her hand again and squeezed it. "I owe everything to you, Olivia. You need help, I give help. You were right to come to Roxy."
Olivia looked up, tears seeping from around her eyes. "Really? You would help me?"
"Da. We go soon. I think we know someone." She leaned in and gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek. With a smile, she scooted back out of the booth and continued across the room to the Ladies.
When Roksana returned to the room she walked directly to the tables her friends were at and rejoined their little celebration. After the third round of drinks, Olivia noticed Roxy stretch and yawn and then whisper something to the young man she was sitting next to. 'Sitting next to' might have been a stretch because Olivia had noticed the two were practically sitting in each others lap the entire evening. They were obviously close.
Both rose and began saying their good-nights to the others around the table, and three of the other cast members stood up and began collecting their belongings, too. Roksana and her companion headed in Olivia's direction and motioned for her to get up in front of them. As she complied she realized that they were shielding her from the view of the others still at the table. Together they pushed through the side door and into a dark alley next to the pub.
"This is Antony," Roxy said as she looped her hand through the man's arm. "We are dating."
"Pleased to meet you, Antony," Olivia said as she briefly shook his free hand.
"It's actually Anthony," the man replied. "I'm not sure she'll ever get that right, but I don't mind." His arm came around Roksana to give her a hug. "Let's go this way."
Olivia followed Anthony and Roxy down the alley, away from the main street. They passed behind the Prince Edward Theatre and walked single file through a tight space between the ancient brick buildings. Coming out to a rather well lit intersection, Anthony scanned the surrounding area and then motioned for the two women to follow him across the street. They had just made it to the opposite pavement when the street was bathed in a bright white light.
"All citizens are requested to stand in place!" a voice boomed over a loud speaker. "A security sweep of the area is being conducted. Please stand in place."
Olivia saw two large black MRU vans with spotlights mounted on the roofs creeping along the street in their direction. In response to the orders, a few people chose to dash off while most stopped in place to watch the vans drive slowly by. Smaller spotlights scanned the faces of those standing on both sides of the street. MRU troops on foot gave chase to those who had defied the orders. Olivia felt a hand on her arm and was suddenly pulled backward into the shadows of an alley.
"Let's get the hell outta here," Anthony whispered. "We'll cut through here." The trio ran down the alley and then took a left through another narrow passage between buildings. That opened up onto the alley on the other side of the buildings and they changed course once again. Olivia felt totally lost as she followed along and hoped that Anthony knew where he was heading. Her guide slowed down when they came to a dimly lit cement staircase that led down to a basement door. Anthony went down the steps and pounded on the door. Sounds could be heard on the other side and then the door opened a crack. A thick security chain could be seen through the opening and then the barrel of a shotgun poked out.
"Who is it? What do you want?" came a gruff voice from the darkness behind the door.
"Hey Will, it's Tony."
"Oh, hey, sorry mate." The door closed and then, after some jiggling of the security chain, it opened again. "Come in, come in, hey babe," the man said as he leaned in to give Roksana a kiss on the cheek. "What's going on, who's this?" He nodded towards Olivia.
"She's a friend," Roxy said, vouching for Olivia.
"Remember a coupla months ago you told me about that dude who helped those two gay chicks get out of the city?" Anthony asked. "Is he still around? Is there any way to get in touch with him?"
Will gave Olivia an appraising look. "A runner, huh? What a pisser." Then to Anthony he continued, "Yeah, he's still around. Just ran into him the other day, as a matter of fact. I have his number here somewhere." He started rummaging through the papers on a table and then stepped over to a desk and began opening drawers. Reaching into one, he withdrew a small yellow shard of paper and held it up.
"Ah, here it is. Gimme a sec," he said as he left the room and closed the door behind him. Muffled sounds of his conversation could be heard through the door and then he rejoined the others.
"He's not far away, but he says the place is crawling with RU's. Who the hell are you, anyway?" Will asked as he picked up his shot gun and looked at Olivia a little more warily. What he had heard on the phone must have spooked him.
Roksana held her hands up waist high and moved slightly in front of Olivia. "I told you, she's my friend, and she need our help."
"Yeah, man, don't get your panties in a bunch. She's married to one of those big RU honchos, that's all."
The shot gun was lowered slightly so that it pointed towards the floor. "Okay, okay. Sorry. I sort of sympathize with the Network and all, but I've never, you know, done anything like this before. Those RU's are maniacs, you know what I'm sayin'? This is just makin' me a little nervous."
Anthony motioned for Will to put his weapon away and then suggested they all sit down and wait for help to arrive. If the MRU were to bust in there the last thing he'd want was for his friend to have a shotgun in his hands.
"You mention Network, William," Roksana said. "Is this man we wait for in the KSN?"
"He's never said he is, but I know for a fact he's helped a few women from the neighborhood to get out. So it sorta figures that he is."
Olivia sat quietly as the others chatted, not really listening to what they were saying as she tried to make sense of her own thoughts and emotions. She wasn't even sure this was what she wanted to do!! She felt she had to do something, but the ramifications of what she had set in motion was tearing at her conscious. This was not like some holiday where she flies off to some resort and then returns to life as normal. There would be no life as normal after this. And what of George? She truly loved George and dreaded how this would effect him, and his job. He would be forced to divorce her to distance himself from the stigma of having his wife defect to another country. She really hoped he would not be sacked because of her.
And what of the friends she would leave behind? Really...she knew hundreds of people but there were only one or two that she could honestly say were true friends. They would understand her decision. And then there was Lani. Oooo, her blood boiled when she thought about Lani. What a little manipulator. A puppet of the Regime, that's what she was. The whole bloody population would soon be puppets of the Regime at the rate things were changing, and the women were the ones who were being manipulated with strings attached to their limbs, made to do and say things that their male superiors forced upon them. She could not even walk outside at the moment without a male leading her on a bloody leash! It was past the curfew that only applied to women! No one should have to live like this.
Looking up at the others, and particularly Roksana, she felt weak and pathetic. Roxy wasn't thinking of escaping the country. Thousands of other women were not leaving everyone they knew behind just because they were being humiliated by the new order of things. What made her think she was so special? Maybe there was someway she could fight back from outside the country, though. Maybe she could find others who had left and join forces with them to return England to it's rightful social order. High ideas, but she really had no idea how she would do something like that.
A quiet tapping on the door attracted everyone's attention and William quickly went to answer it. When he returned he said to Olivia, "You're to say your goodbyes and come into the other room right away."
Olivia turned to Roksana and hugged her. "Thank you for everything, dear," she said.
"It is nothing," she whispered in her ear. "I am happy to have helped you this time."
Anthony shook Olivia's hand and wished her well, and then Will escorted her out of the room. Waiting by the door that led to the alley was a man dressed in a long black leather coat. His scraggly black hair was shoulder length and his beard hadn't been trimmed in weeks. He picked a duffle bag up off the floor and set it on a chair.
"Mrs. Wright, I presume?" he said in a husky voice. When he saw her nod he said, "You've poked the MRU hornets nest, ma'am. We're getting reports from our people all over town of troop carriers dropping off squads every few blocks. They're just now hitting areas like this." He motioned outside the small window and then unzipped his bag. Reaching in, he withdrew some spandex items and held them out for Olivia.
What was it? Oh, right, they had lost the woman somewhere in Cecil Court. George had been furious.
The last thing Olivia wanted to think was that her closest friend was secretly working for the MRU. But, thinking about it now, in light of Joanne's accusation, made her wonder why Lani had showed her the article in the London Journal? Why had she suggested they go to the Grand Opening of the little book store? And once they were alone in one of those little book lined rooms, why did she suggest that "it would be fun" to invite the shop owner to the party? There were too many damn whys?!
It didn't take a genius to see the connection, though. Cecil Court. Not that she could believe anyone would suspect Joanne of helping that woman, but maybe Lani used the store's Grand Opening as an excuse to scout the area...maybe even cultivate some contacts among the locals. Lani had obviously read the column in the Journal and knew Joanne was new to the area. She wouldn't be likely to have made any good friends yet, so it was an ideal time to recruit her as an informant. Being married to George had taught her a thing or two about those sorts of things.
Or maybe none of that was true, but she still kicked herself for being so blind to Lani's manipulations. She was supposed to be the dominant one; Lani was the submissive. Yet, in her exuberance to please her little sub, she had complied with her every wish. Talk about Topping from the Bottom!
The wine in her glass helped calm Olivia's nerves, but she was still very worried. She knew now that she had made a big mistake in leaving the house before thinking this through. A plan might have been helpful!! Maybe a disguise? Could she have thought of that? A wig? Some old clothes, perhaps? God, she was such an idiot! And what of Jojo? She would, no doubt, be receiving a visit from George's goon squad, if she hadn't already. She would just die if she was the cause of Joanne being sent to a Regeneration facility. That thought made her shiver. Moral Regeneration! She didn't even want to think about what happened to women in those ghastly places. At least George was in charge of border security and not involved in running those horror houses.
Not that the job hadn't been offered to him, but he had ten years invested in securing the borders and ports of entry into the country, and he wasn't about to give up his little fiefdom for what they said was a promotion. Having his department placed under the auspices of the MRU had made him quite upset at the time, but he still reported directly to Sir Nigel so that kept the MRU out of his business, for the most part. She could tell it grated on him, though, to be using his resources for keeping people in the country rather than keeping them out. But he was a career government employee, and he did the job he was being handsomely paid to do, and he did it well. She had to respect the man for that.
Unfortunately, his vast network would now be diligently searching for her. She could only imagine the resources that had been assembled to track her down. And she had no idea how she was going to elude them!
She had briefly considered going to Joanne's, but was sure that her house and store would be the first place they'd look and would most likely be under surveillance. She then tried to think of anyone who might owe her a favor. Ach, they were all elites, like her. They wouldn't stick their necks out for her any more than she would for them. But there was one woman she had helped a few years before who might be willing to help her now, and she was hoping that her habits hadn't changed.
Movement to her left drew Olivia out of her thoughts. Coming out of a door against the far door, a man she recognized as the owner of the pub was heading her way. He slid into the bench seat opposite her and took a quick glance back towards the bar area.
"You're welcome to stay here as long as we're open, Mrs. Wright, but at some point you'll have to leave," he said softly.
Surprised by the man's directness, Olivia hesitated for a second and then said, "I appreciate your hospitality, sir. I really do." She looked around and saw that no one was taking any notice of them at all. "Do the performers from the Prince Edward still hang out here after the show?" she asked. The Prince Edward Theatre was right next door to the pub.
"Being a Sunday night they should be coming in around nine o'clock. Why do you ask?"
"It's possible that I can get some help from one of them. Do you now if..."
The man put his hand up. "Don't say any more, lady. I don't want to know and it's better if I didn't."
"Oh, sure, I understand."
"Listen," he said, leaning in over the table. "I don't need no problems from them fuckin' RU's, so if they bust in here you slink your butt out that door right behind you there. It leads out to the alley."
"I don't mean to be a problem, sir. I'll go as soon as I can."
Softening his tone, he said, "You're not the problem, lady. Wadaya say I bring you another drink, on the house?"
"You're too kind, but I can pay," Olivia said as she reached for her purse.
The man stood up and waved her away. "Keep it. You may need it later."
Watching the man leave, Olivia felt some of her anxiety fade away. Looking around at the dive bar, with its tacky fluorescent ale signs and crinkled, yet framed, theatre posters, she felt more comfortable than she did at any of the posh restaurants she frequented with George. These were real people, not the fakes that fawned over her, saying whatever they thought she wanted to hear...hoping for that big tip at the end of the service.
"Thank you so much, sir," Olivia said as the pub owner set another glass of wine down in front of her and then headed back to the bar with just a nod. She wondered if he had known she was there all along or if he recognized her when he came out of the back room. Either way, he obviously was not going to call the "ru's" on her.
With nothing to do but sit, think, sip her drink, and hope no one else recognized her, the time passed slowly until eight-thirty when a group of people bustled into the pub and ponied up to the bar. They were in high spirits and were quite a lively bunch. Must be nice! A few minutes later another couple came through the door and then a group of ten or twelve people pushed their way into the pub.
Finally, just as the pub owner had predicted, at a little past nine o'clock a large group of people came through the door and received a round of applause from those already in the pub. Bows and waves were returned by the actors and dancers as they made their way towards the tables in an open area of the pub. Olivia peered out from the darkness of her corner booth, looking for the one person in the crowd she felt she could trust.
It was the laugh that drew her attention to a tall blonde woman who was half-hidden amidst the group. It was unmistakably Roksana Demidov, one of the rising stars of the London theatre scene. A Russian immigrant, Roksana had been abandoned with nothing but the clothes on her back by the man who had brought her to the country. Knowing only a few words in English, Roksana was unable to secure a job and soon found herself on the doorstep of the Broadwick Gentleman's Club. Understanding English was not a prerequisite for taking off one's clothes, and she was able to eke out a living at doing just that. It helped quite a bit that the young woman had studied dance while at school in Volgograd. Her routines were not exactly appreciated by the management, however, as she was not content to simply take the stage and quickly strip off her scant costume, but rather wished to present a well-choreographed routine. This, of course, left her in her costume longer and the management felt it hurt her tips, which in turn affected their bottom line.
Not long after Roksana Demidov became a name recognized in the red light district, Olivia had been persuaded by a friend to take a position on the Board of Directors of the Prince Edward Theatre. The venue was in a period of transition as the larger Soho performance halls were trying to escape the seedy image of the area and cash in on the legitimate entertainment industry that was blossoming in the district. Hungry for new talent to fill their rosters, Olivia had an idea of looking for backup dancers among the various dance halls in the area. She happened to catch Roksana's act one evening, recognized her potential, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Drinks and appetizers were brought to the tables of the theatre troupe and Olivia watched in silence as they sated their appetites while occasionally scribbling out autographs for the other patrons in the pub. After a while, Roksana backed away from the table and excused herself to go to the Ladies. When she was clear of her group, Olivia cleared her throat to attract the blonde dancer's attention and then sat forward into the soft overhead light.
"Olivia?" the woman said in surprise, only to see Olivia's finger come up to her lips to silence her.
Roksana looked back towards her group but saw that no one had noticed her outburst. "My god, Olivia!" she gasped quietly when she drew closer. "I saw news in change room." Her English had improved since Olivia last spoke to her, but the Russian's accent was still quite pronounced. "What's going on? Are you okay?" She slid into the booth next to Olivia and took her hands.
Olivia held her friend's hands and lamented, "I'm fine, Roxy, but I fear I'm going to be in a lot of trouble."
"Oh dear!" Roksana leaned over and wrapped Olivia in her arms. "You're not kidnapped then? Why are you not gone home?" she whispered.
"I...I'm not going home, Roxy."
"No?" the blonde sat back to look at Olivia. "What...where you will go?"
Olivia sat looking at Roksana. Where was she going? She had been so distraught earlier that she had just left the house and started walking with no real destination in mind. The money she had removed from their safe would've normally taken her anywhere in the world she wanted to go, but as she walked she realized that she couldn't just strut into Heathrow and buy a ticket. While waiting to see if Roksana would come to the pub the thought of going to France where she had cousins had occurred to her. The question still remained...how to get there?
"I'd like to go to the mainland, if at all possible," Olivia said, looking past Roksana to see if anyone had noticed them talking yet. When no response came back from her friend, Olivia looked back to see Roxy studying her face. Their eyes met, and Olivia could see that she was being appraised. And why not? After not seeing Roksana for a couple years, she shows up and tells her she wants to leave the country? Her? The wife of a Government official? She felt ashamed for even thinking of involving the young woman in her attempted flight.
"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the other woman's gaze and looking down at the table. "I shouldn't have come here. I should go."
Roksana took her hand again and squeezed it. "I owe everything to you, Olivia. You need help, I give help. You were right to come to Roxy."
Olivia looked up, tears seeping from around her eyes. "Really? You would help me?"
"Da. We go soon. I think we know someone." She leaned in and gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek. With a smile, she scooted back out of the booth and continued across the room to the Ladies.
When Roksana returned to the room she walked directly to the tables her friends were at and rejoined their little celebration. After the third round of drinks, Olivia noticed Roxy stretch and yawn and then whisper something to the young man she was sitting next to. 'Sitting next to' might have been a stretch because Olivia had noticed the two were practically sitting in each others lap the entire evening. They were obviously close.
Both rose and began saying their good-nights to the others around the table, and three of the other cast members stood up and began collecting their belongings, too. Roksana and her companion headed in Olivia's direction and motioned for her to get up in front of them. As she complied she realized that they were shielding her from the view of the others still at the table. Together they pushed through the side door and into a dark alley next to the pub.
"This is Antony," Roxy said as she looped her hand through the man's arm. "We are dating."
"Pleased to meet you, Antony," Olivia said as she briefly shook his free hand.
"It's actually Anthony," the man replied. "I'm not sure she'll ever get that right, but I don't mind." His arm came around Roksana to give her a hug. "Let's go this way."
Olivia followed Anthony and Roxy down the alley, away from the main street. They passed behind the Prince Edward Theatre and walked single file through a tight space between the ancient brick buildings. Coming out to a rather well lit intersection, Anthony scanned the surrounding area and then motioned for the two women to follow him across the street. They had just made it to the opposite pavement when the street was bathed in a bright white light.
"All citizens are requested to stand in place!" a voice boomed over a loud speaker. "A security sweep of the area is being conducted. Please stand in place."
Olivia saw two large black MRU vans with spotlights mounted on the roofs creeping along the street in their direction. In response to the orders, a few people chose to dash off while most stopped in place to watch the vans drive slowly by. Smaller spotlights scanned the faces of those standing on both sides of the street. MRU troops on foot gave chase to those who had defied the orders. Olivia felt a hand on her arm and was suddenly pulled backward into the shadows of an alley.
"Let's get the hell outta here," Anthony whispered. "We'll cut through here." The trio ran down the alley and then took a left through another narrow passage between buildings. That opened up onto the alley on the other side of the buildings and they changed course once again. Olivia felt totally lost as she followed along and hoped that Anthony knew where he was heading. Her guide slowed down when they came to a dimly lit cement staircase that led down to a basement door. Anthony went down the steps and pounded on the door. Sounds could be heard on the other side and then the door opened a crack. A thick security chain could be seen through the opening and then the barrel of a shotgun poked out.
"Who is it? What do you want?" came a gruff voice from the darkness behind the door.
"Hey Will, it's Tony."
"Oh, hey, sorry mate." The door closed and then, after some jiggling of the security chain, it opened again. "Come in, come in, hey babe," the man said as he leaned in to give Roksana a kiss on the cheek. "What's going on, who's this?" He nodded towards Olivia.
"She's a friend," Roxy said, vouching for Olivia.
"Remember a coupla months ago you told me about that dude who helped those two gay chicks get out of the city?" Anthony asked. "Is he still around? Is there any way to get in touch with him?"
Will gave Olivia an appraising look. "A runner, huh? What a pisser." Then to Anthony he continued, "Yeah, he's still around. Just ran into him the other day, as a matter of fact. I have his number here somewhere." He started rummaging through the papers on a table and then stepped over to a desk and began opening drawers. Reaching into one, he withdrew a small yellow shard of paper and held it up.
"Ah, here it is. Gimme a sec," he said as he left the room and closed the door behind him. Muffled sounds of his conversation could be heard through the door and then he rejoined the others.
"He's not far away, but he says the place is crawling with RU's. Who the hell are you, anyway?" Will asked as he picked up his shot gun and looked at Olivia a little more warily. What he had heard on the phone must have spooked him.
Roksana held her hands up waist high and moved slightly in front of Olivia. "I told you, she's my friend, and she need our help."
"Yeah, man, don't get your panties in a bunch. She's married to one of those big RU honchos, that's all."
The shot gun was lowered slightly so that it pointed towards the floor. "Okay, okay. Sorry. I sort of sympathize with the Network and all, but I've never, you know, done anything like this before. Those RU's are maniacs, you know what I'm sayin'? This is just makin' me a little nervous."
Anthony motioned for Will to put his weapon away and then suggested they all sit down and wait for help to arrive. If the MRU were to bust in there the last thing he'd want was for his friend to have a shotgun in his hands.
"You mention Network, William," Roksana said. "Is this man we wait for in the KSN?"
"He's never said he is, but I know for a fact he's helped a few women from the neighborhood to get out. So it sorta figures that he is."
Olivia sat quietly as the others chatted, not really listening to what they were saying as she tried to make sense of her own thoughts and emotions. She wasn't even sure this was what she wanted to do!! She felt she had to do something, but the ramifications of what she had set in motion was tearing at her conscious. This was not like some holiday where she flies off to some resort and then returns to life as normal. There would be no life as normal after this. And what of George? She truly loved George and dreaded how this would effect him, and his job. He would be forced to divorce her to distance himself from the stigma of having his wife defect to another country. She really hoped he would not be sacked because of her.
And what of the friends she would leave behind? Really...she knew hundreds of people but there were only one or two that she could honestly say were true friends. They would understand her decision. And then there was Lani. Oooo, her blood boiled when she thought about Lani. What a little manipulator. A puppet of the Regime, that's what she was. The whole bloody population would soon be puppets of the Regime at the rate things were changing, and the women were the ones who were being manipulated with strings attached to their limbs, made to do and say things that their male superiors forced upon them. She could not even walk outside at the moment without a male leading her on a bloody leash! It was past the curfew that only applied to women! No one should have to live like this.
Looking up at the others, and particularly Roksana, she felt weak and pathetic. Roxy wasn't thinking of escaping the country. Thousands of other women were not leaving everyone they knew behind just because they were being humiliated by the new order of things. What made her think she was so special? Maybe there was someway she could fight back from outside the country, though. Maybe she could find others who had left and join forces with them to return England to it's rightful social order. High ideas, but she really had no idea how she would do something like that.
A quiet tapping on the door attracted everyone's attention and William quickly went to answer it. When he returned he said to Olivia, "You're to say your goodbyes and come into the other room right away."
Olivia turned to Roksana and hugged her. "Thank you for everything, dear," she said.
"It is nothing," she whispered in her ear. "I am happy to have helped you this time."
Anthony shook Olivia's hand and wished her well, and then Will escorted her out of the room. Waiting by the door that led to the alley was a man dressed in a long black leather coat. His scraggly black hair was shoulder length and his beard hadn't been trimmed in weeks. He picked a duffle bag up off the floor and set it on a chair.
"Mrs. Wright, I presume?" he said in a husky voice. When he saw her nod he said, "You've poked the MRU hornets nest, ma'am. We're getting reports from our people all over town of troop carriers dropping off squads every few blocks. They're just now hitting areas like this." He motioned outside the small window and then unzipped his bag. Reaching in, he withdrew some spandex items and held them out for Olivia.
When she didn't immediately take them he asked, "You're running, aren't you?"
Olivia looked at the spandex body suit the man was offering her. What she saw was a symbol of how fucked up her country had become since the last election, and things were getting more extreme all the time. Where would it end? When would it end? She reached out and took the clothing.
"Get changed quickly," the man said. "They're still a couple of blocks away, but moving in our direction. They're going door to door."
"Oh goodness!" Olivia gasped.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "We'll be fine, arrangements have been made, courtesy of your local Kink Support Network." The man's hand waved through the air as he took a bow and then with both hands he pointed towards the loo and made a waving motion to hurry her inside.
When she emerged, Olivia was dressed neck to ankles in a tightly fitting spandex body suit. In her hand she carried a spandex hood.
Seeing how Olivia was squeezed into the suit, the KSN operative said, "Sorry about the fit, ma'am. I just guessed at the size. Now let me help you with that hood. Grab the collar out of the bag, will ya?" he said to William.
The man got busy working the spandex hood over Olivia's black hair and lining up the holes for her eyes, nose, and mouth. He nodded for Will to put the collar around Olivia's neck, "Let's go, let's go," a little impatience working it's way into his voice.
When everything was in place the man reached into the bag, withdrew a leash, threw Olivia's clothing in, and zipped the bag closed. The leash was clipped to Olivia's collar and the duffle was slung over the his shoulder. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an ear piece that had a very thin rod attached to it. He clipped the device onto his ear and adjusted the flexible rod so that it hugged his face and ended near his lips.
"K8 to K1, we're moving." He put his hand to the ear piece and moved it slightly, and then said, "Roger that." Turning to Will he offered a fist bump, and then led Olivia out the door and up the steps to the alley.
"Oh goodness!" Olivia gasped.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "We'll be fine, arrangements have been made, courtesy of your local Kink Support Network." The man's hand waved through the air as he took a bow and then with both hands he pointed towards the loo and made a waving motion to hurry her inside.
When she emerged, Olivia was dressed neck to ankles in a tightly fitting spandex body suit. In her hand she carried a spandex hood.
Seeing how Olivia was squeezed into the suit, the KSN operative said, "Sorry about the fit, ma'am. I just guessed at the size. Now let me help you with that hood. Grab the collar out of the bag, will ya?" he said to William.
The man got busy working the spandex hood over Olivia's black hair and lining up the holes for her eyes, nose, and mouth. He nodded for Will to put the collar around Olivia's neck, "Let's go, let's go," a little impatience working it's way into his voice.
When everything was in place the man reached into the bag, withdrew a leash, threw Olivia's clothing in, and zipped the bag closed. The leash was clipped to Olivia's collar and the duffle was slung over the his shoulder. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an ear piece that had a very thin rod attached to it. He clipped the device onto his ear and adjusted the flexible rod so that it hugged his face and ended near his lips.
"K8 to K1, we're moving." He put his hand to the ear piece and moved it slightly, and then said, "Roger that." Turning to Will he offered a fist bump, and then led Olivia out the door and up the steps to the alley.
Once Will had closed the door the man turned to Olivia and said, "My name is Dirk, by the way." He held out his hand and Olivia shook it. "We'll get you to safety, don't you worry."
"Thank you," was all that Olivia could muster. Her stomach was doing flips as they set out down the dimly lit alley.
Walking at a brisk pace, Dirk led Olivia from one alley to the next, slipping through narrow passages between the ancient buildings and occasionally crossing city streets to enter another alley. Whenever they had to cross a street Dirk would take the leash attached to Olivia's collar and hold onto it.
"Almost there," he said under his breath, but then said, "Crap," as a spot light swept the building in front of them and then bathed the area around them in bright light.
"All citizens are requested to stand in place! A security sweep of the area is being conducted. Please stand in place."
"This way," Dirk said as he led Olivia along the pavement, away from the MRU troop carrier.
"Stand in place!" boomed the voice over the PA system.
The sound of running footsteps echoed off the storefronts next to them as Dirk hurried Olivia along. They came to an alley and ducked into it, breaking into a run as soon as they were out of sight. An MRU agent came running out from an intersecting alley and Dirk stiff armed a blow to the man's chin, sending him to the ground in a heap.
Continuing along the alley they were in, Dirk spoke into the microphone attached to his earpiece, "K1, they're right on our tail. Please advise."
"That's, like, five blocks away," he said as he directed Olivia to take a left turn down another alley. "Understood."
"My people had to fall back but they said the Piccadilly Theatre is just about to let out. We're to head over there to catch our ride," he said to Olivia. He looked behind them to see the alley they had just left light up from an MRU search light. They passed by a small open patio that went through to the street and Dirk saw a small crowd of pedestrians waiting to cross the street.
"Through here," he whispered as he reached out for Olivia's leash and led her across the cobblestone patio and through a gate. The traffic light had just changed and people were beginning to make their way to the other side. Falling in step with the crowd, they safely crossed to the opposite pavement just before armed MRU troops emerged from the intersecting streets on either side of them. A large group of people near Dirk and Olivia filtered into a pub and they followed them in.
"Excuse us...coming through, please," Dirk pressed his way through the crowd while holding Olivia's leash close to her collar so as to not loose her. When they got past the bar area they pushed their way through the swinging doors into the kitchen. The line cooks looked up from their work stations but just watched in silence as the hooded woman was led past them and out the back door. A couple of them looked at each other and shrugged before returning to their orders. The place was hopping and they had no time to even think about what those two were up to.
The alley behind the pub was very well lit prompting Dirk and Olivia to hug against the cold brick walls as much as possible. The revving of an engine behind them was enough for the KSN operative to pull his runner behind a space in the wall where one building met the next causing a thin shadow. His instincts were good as the alley lit up from an MRU search light. The vehicle seemed to be in a hurry as it passed them by with its spot lights trained straight ahead.
Once the truck had crossed over into the alley on the next block Dirk looked in both directions and then motioned for Olivia to step out. When she remained in the shadow he hugged in against the wall to see why.
Olivia's arms were crossed in front of her, hugging her belly just below her breasts. The close calls they had on the other blocks, the escape through the pub, and the sudden appearance of the MRU vehicle in this alley had left her shaking. The MRU were closing in on them and she was too scared to leave the darkness of the shadow. She was frozen in place!
Dirk looked at her and understood; he'd seen that look before. "This is a good place to rest, isn't it?" he said as he leaned back against the wall and into the shadow. "Now that that scout transport has passed through here we'll be okay for a couple of minutes. Let's just catch out breath, what do you say?"
Olivia looked up for a second to give him a nod.
"Just let your body relax, ma'am. It's very stressful, I know, but you're doing really well."
They stood in silence for several minutes and then he said, "The Piccadilly is only two blocks away. We can either go now and have plenty of time, or wait a little longer and have to rush. Which would you like to do?"
Olivia looked at her guide to see that he was leaning back against the wall, totally relaxed. The man must have nerves of steel! Logically, it would be better to go now rather than wait and have to rush. Besides, it was only two blocks. Maybe they would be okay now that the MRU scouts had passed them by. Everything Dirk had just said to her was finally filtering through her mind and although she had been thinking that she would never be able to move out of the safety of the shadows, she lifted her arms to adjust the spandex hood so that she could breathe a little easier.
"Well, um, I suppose it would make sense to get going now," she finally said.
"If you've caught your breathe we'll head down to the next street and see if we can cross over. What do you say?" Dirk stepped away from the wall and held out his hand.
Olivia guessed that Dirk knew she was petrified and not simply out of breathe. He was such a gentleman! She took his hand and allowed him to ease her out of the shadow and guide her along the wall towards the next street. Quite a few people were coming from the other direction and more could be seen behind them.
"Yes, we're almost to the spot now. Give us two minutes," Dirk said into his mic. "Which one is it going to be?" He listened as he led Olivia quickly across the street, against the main flow of pedestrian traffic. Looking to his right he saw some lights and realized there were MRU foot patrols heading their way. "We have some company on foot," he said. "We're on the side of the building right now." Seeing a flash of light against the side of the building next to them, he said, "Coming to the front as we speak."
When they emerged from the side street and came out to the main avenue there was a large crowd of people assembled there. Like the parting of the Red Sea, they made their way easily through the crowd and could sense the crowd closing in behind them, cutting them off completely from the MRU who were coming up the same side street. As they headed across the street a portion of the crowd moved with them, providing cover for them as they passed onto the opposite pavement. When they came up to a large white refrigerated delivery truck Dirk nudged Olivia against it as the small group of people continued on their way.
"All yours, Falcon," Dirk said as he handed Olivia's leash to the truck driver who was leaning against the cab, smoking a cigarette.
"Thanks," Agent Falcon said as he scanned the area. Satisfied it was safe, he slid back the panel on the side of the truck to reveal the small hidden compartment. "In you go, ma'am."
Olivia looked up into the darkness of the compartment and then reached over to squeeze Dirk's hand. Her eyes said, "Thank you", as she released him and climbed up into the truck.
No sooner had Falcon thrown Dirk's duffle bag into the enclosure and closed the side panel than two MRU troopers rounded the front of his truck. "What are you doing here?" one of the troopers demanded to know.
Falcon looked up. "Excuse me?"
"Why have you stopped here?" the man asked, while his partner stepped up to look inside the cab.
Falcon nodded towards the crowd crossing the street from the theatre. "It's a bitch driving through this section of town when the shows let out. I'm just havin' a smoke to kill some time. Why?"
Moving towards the back, the trooper shouted back, "Open the doors for me." He waved the end of his rifle to make Falcon comply.
"Sure, no problem," the driver said as he walked back to open the rear doors. "I'm done for the day, so I'm empty anyway. Look all you want."
The two soldiers scanned the inside of the trailer with their torches and then turned to cross the street and head back towards the Piccadilly.
"You're welcome!" Falcon called out after them. "Bloody idiots," he said to himself.
Climbing into his cab, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
"Okay, I'm on my way...oh?" He listened for a moment. "Yeah, no problem, I'll head over there."
Falcon checked traffic and then pulled the truck away from the curb. He tried to remember a job that didn't involve at least one change of plans. Maybe he should change his code name to Falcon the Flexible. He knew, though, that when Major Taylor changed his plans, there was always a good reason for it.
"Excuse us...coming through, please," Dirk pressed his way through the crowd while holding Olivia's leash close to her collar so as to not loose her. When they got past the bar area they pushed their way through the swinging doors into the kitchen. The line cooks looked up from their work stations but just watched in silence as the hooded woman was led past them and out the back door. A couple of them looked at each other and shrugged before returning to their orders. The place was hopping and they had no time to even think about what those two were up to.
The alley behind the pub was very well lit prompting Dirk and Olivia to hug against the cold brick walls as much as possible. The revving of an engine behind them was enough for the KSN operative to pull his runner behind a space in the wall where one building met the next causing a thin shadow. His instincts were good as the alley lit up from an MRU search light. The vehicle seemed to be in a hurry as it passed them by with its spot lights trained straight ahead.
Once the truck had crossed over into the alley on the next block Dirk looked in both directions and then motioned for Olivia to step out. When she remained in the shadow he hugged in against the wall to see why.
Olivia's arms were crossed in front of her, hugging her belly just below her breasts. The close calls they had on the other blocks, the escape through the pub, and the sudden appearance of the MRU vehicle in this alley had left her shaking. The MRU were closing in on them and she was too scared to leave the darkness of the shadow. She was frozen in place!
Dirk looked at her and understood; he'd seen that look before. "This is a good place to rest, isn't it?" he said as he leaned back against the wall and into the shadow. "Now that that scout transport has passed through here we'll be okay for a couple of minutes. Let's just catch out breath, what do you say?"
Olivia looked up for a second to give him a nod.
"Just let your body relax, ma'am. It's very stressful, I know, but you're doing really well."
They stood in silence for several minutes and then he said, "The Piccadilly is only two blocks away. We can either go now and have plenty of time, or wait a little longer and have to rush. Which would you like to do?"
Olivia looked at her guide to see that he was leaning back against the wall, totally relaxed. The man must have nerves of steel! Logically, it would be better to go now rather than wait and have to rush. Besides, it was only two blocks. Maybe they would be okay now that the MRU scouts had passed them by. Everything Dirk had just said to her was finally filtering through her mind and although she had been thinking that she would never be able to move out of the safety of the shadows, she lifted her arms to adjust the spandex hood so that she could breathe a little easier.
"Well, um, I suppose it would make sense to get going now," she finally said.
"If you've caught your breathe we'll head down to the next street and see if we can cross over. What do you say?" Dirk stepped away from the wall and held out his hand.
Olivia guessed that Dirk knew she was petrified and not simply out of breathe. He was such a gentleman! She took his hand and allowed him to ease her out of the shadow and guide her along the wall towards the next street. Quite a few people were coming from the other direction and more could be seen behind them.
"Yes, we're almost to the spot now. Give us two minutes," Dirk said into his mic. "Which one is it going to be?" He listened as he led Olivia quickly across the street, against the main flow of pedestrian traffic. Looking to his right he saw some lights and realized there were MRU foot patrols heading their way. "We have some company on foot," he said. "We're on the side of the building right now." Seeing a flash of light against the side of the building next to them, he said, "Coming to the front as we speak."
When they emerged from the side street and came out to the main avenue there was a large crowd of people assembled there. Like the parting of the Red Sea, they made their way easily through the crowd and could sense the crowd closing in behind them, cutting them off completely from the MRU who were coming up the same side street. As they headed across the street a portion of the crowd moved with them, providing cover for them as they passed onto the opposite pavement. When they came up to a large white refrigerated delivery truck Dirk nudged Olivia against it as the small group of people continued on their way.
"All yours, Falcon," Dirk said as he handed Olivia's leash to the truck driver who was leaning against the cab, smoking a cigarette.
"Thanks," Agent Falcon said as he scanned the area. Satisfied it was safe, he slid back the panel on the side of the truck to reveal the small hidden compartment. "In you go, ma'am."
Olivia looked up into the darkness of the compartment and then reached over to squeeze Dirk's hand. Her eyes said, "Thank you", as she released him and climbed up into the truck.
No sooner had Falcon thrown Dirk's duffle bag into the enclosure and closed the side panel than two MRU troopers rounded the front of his truck. "What are you doing here?" one of the troopers demanded to know.
Falcon looked up. "Excuse me?"
"Why have you stopped here?" the man asked, while his partner stepped up to look inside the cab.
Falcon nodded towards the crowd crossing the street from the theatre. "It's a bitch driving through this section of town when the shows let out. I'm just havin' a smoke to kill some time. Why?"
Moving towards the back, the trooper shouted back, "Open the doors for me." He waved the end of his rifle to make Falcon comply.
"Sure, no problem," the driver said as he walked back to open the rear doors. "I'm done for the day, so I'm empty anyway. Look all you want."
The two soldiers scanned the inside of the trailer with their torches and then turned to cross the street and head back towards the Piccadilly.
"You're welcome!" Falcon called out after them. "Bloody idiots," he said to himself.
Climbing into his cab, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
"Okay, I'm on my way...oh?" He listened for a moment. "Yeah, no problem, I'll head over there."
Falcon checked traffic and then pulled the truck away from the curb. He tried to remember a job that didn't involve at least one change of plans. Maybe he should change his code name to Falcon the Flexible. He knew, though, that when Major Taylor changed his plans, there was always a good reason for it.