36: The Next Generation

Summary: No longer suffering from the tabloid disinformation, Michelle and the other teen detectives have to focus on their GCSEs while Michelle’s sister Kate attempts to be a girl detective.

Chelle, Lin and Jenn were in the detectives headquarters revising for their GCSEs. Despite adding a portable heater, the converted caravan was still chilly. They congregated here as other study areas such as the libraries and school were far too crowded or noisy. Their boyfriends decided to study elsewhere or had other activities to tend to. To brave the cold, Chelle and Jenn wore thick jumpers with equally think long-sleeved shirts and still scarfs around their necks along with jeans for the winter. In contrast, besides a long-sleeved blouse and a jumper, Lin wore a below knee-length skirt with dark purple 60 denier tights and boots.

As they all were buried in their books and notes, the sound of the doorbell jolted them. Knowing their long-time nemesis the Cat was still not discovered, Lin slowly got up and checked the CCTV camera she and Reinhard enhanced last December. “Chelle, it’s your sister.”

“What the…Kate how did find this place?” Chelle asked ‎incredulously. Besides a few adversaries and friends, the detectives always kept the location of their headquarters cum science lab a secret.

“It’s nothing difficult. I’ve always noticed you turning towards the same road after school or during the weekend,” her younger sibling answered, unbuttoning her coat to reveal a dress that reached almost reached to her ankles, her legs encased in dark blue 80 denier tights.

“Oh crap. So much for thinking I was discreet,” Chelle felt defeated.

“Do I have to sign some confidentiality document is it you have to kill me before I leave?” Kate laughed.

“What brings you to our humble liar?” Lin asked.

“Well, I just finished meeting up with friends and thought I see how my big sis is coping with her revision,” Chelle gave a weak smile in return. “I’ve got your favourite flourless chocolate cake in the oven and should be ready in an hour to keep you going.” Chelle smiled happily.

“Yum!” The other girls cried as Kate placed her mobile phone on the table. The news report and clip showed that some unidentified figure had been raiding homes in the Baltic States and Poland, stealing bras and sometimes knickers of young girls.

“Kate, we’re studying for our GCSEs and we’re definitely not travelling to Eastern Europe,” her elder sister argued.

“Oh, just to let you all know. Your cake should be ready by the end of the hour, don’t be too late.” Kate waved and exited.

Ten minutes later, the Summers’ sisters took a taxi back home as a bus would not be that warm. Kate was always engrossed with her mobile phone but instead of listening to music or playing games, Chelle noticed Kate scanning through various international news sites covering the bra and knickers thief. Kate continued to be fixated on the news articles as they walked up to their home. While taking the cake, she continued playing a longer video clip of the similar stealings.

“Kate, what’s got you? It’s a case in Eastern Europe.” Chelle asked as she came down, changing her jeans to joggers.

“True, but the modus operandi is so perfect and despite extensive policing, no police force can capture him or her, no victim could describe what this thief looks like.”

“It’s very typical, Kate. Look, this is occurring thousands of kilometres away. Try finding something closer to home.”

Kate didn’t reply and sisters just ate their cake with tea and coffee. With Chelle returning to her studies, Kate still glanced at the news reports then finally changed out of her dress and tights. Despite her sister’s argument to ignore it, the news of the bra and knickers thief stayed much in her mind.

At school, while the Year 11s were naturally given more mock exam papers and revision classes, the Year 9s were started on advanced topics that they might face in their GCSEs. After Kate faced a tough maths class, she bought a bowl of chicken pasta and activated her phone. Several news sites repeated the same old news but English versions of German news sites like Der Welt and Der Spiegel stated that there were stealings of young female teenagers’ underwear, an exact copycat of those in Eastern Europe. Several reporters screamed it was the work of the bra and knickers thief.

“Hey, Kate you listening to your usual music…oh!” Kate turned to face her classmate and close friend Stacey Barker. Stacey pulled Kate’s phone to properly read the news. “Oh, yucks, “she remarked which drew the attention of their other class and level mates. They all read the articles then added their views.

“Eek,” Helen French, another classmate, shook her head. “Definitely a guy, someone with a fetish with girl’s undies,” she argued. “Don’t this thief steal my bra and undies, ” Harriet Stone a fellow choir member stated. “My sisters and cousins gifted me lovely underwear and bikinis last Christmas.” The sole Afghan girl in Year 9, Zahra spoke in her thick accent that her mother’s and sister’s underwear and clothes were stolen as they fled the country. As word spread, all Year 9 girls and some boys agreed the shadowy thief had a fetish while other boys like the act as they had tried viewing girl’s undies during sports.

With these comments flooding her mind, Kate only managed to listen to the other subject teachers. Coming home earlier than Chelle, she finished most of her homework then took out an old notebook. How did he know the residences contained young teen girls or teen underwear? Why could no one identify this thief? How could he move so easily between residences and now countries? Kate surmised there could be assistants aiding him, or multiple thieves performing similar crimes. That however did not explain the ghost-like figure for this fetish lover. Kate heard Chelle return home but decided against discussing these questions with her. She returned to her maths questions and took a longer time to solve them, her mind just filled with what she wrote in her notebook.

After dinner, returned to her room and while she checked her homework she turned to her phone. The Sky News Europe section flashed, “BREAKING NEWS: Underwear thief overpowers a teenaged girl from Berlin, restrained her and stole almost all of her underwear. Our German correspondent is now interviewing her.

“I had just returned home,” the girl, Sofia Hoffman, said through a translator. Suddenly, a leather-covered arm pulled me inside my house. I struggled but he was very strong. Still managed to pull off his glove, scratched his hand, but he didn’t scream much. I was roughly pushed into a chair, taped up all around, gagged with tape. I saw him march upstairs as I struggled to get free. He came down with a thick sack and left. It was only an hour later that my brother helped free me and I discovered most of my bra and panties were stolen!”

The reporter asked if she heard any accent from him and Sofia replied he didn’t speak at all even when she scratched him. The police took swaps of her fingernails, clothes and the tape but the victim just wanted him caught as her parents weren’t wealthy enough to help her replace all stolen underwear.

Poor Sofia. Kate saved the video clip even though she didn’t think there was any peculiar info. There was nothing new the next two days so Kate focused her choir activities. Then news broke that the masked thief struck at Frankfurt, this time blindfolding the fourteen-year-old after she broke free from the chairtie, also stealing all the underwear from her drawers. Hours later, the French newspaper Le Monde broke a story that there was such a case in a town in the Alaace region. “Police are investigating if it is the same person or a copycat.”

“Either this fetish loser is like Superman, flying by himself at top speeds or someone is transporting him in fast private jets,” Stacey guessed as Kate showed her the latest news.

“Or there could be multiple thieves, all performing the same crime in various cities just at different times,” Kate added.

“That would require precision coordination,” As Stacey said that Kate drew a map where the stealings occurred.

“You know Kate you’re so deeply engrossed in this. You’ve certainly caught the girl detective bug from your sister.”

“I thought of getting you involved in this.” Her best friend remarked there were school activities and studies to worry about.

Undeterred, Kate looked at the map she drew during her free time and kept scanning the news online. European police forces such as France’s Police nationale, the National Gendarmerie, Netherlands’ Korps Nationale Politie and Span’s Cuerpo Nacional de Policía were placed on higher alert. Borders and ports of entry saw an increase in checks, casing annoyed travellers. Eurpol was also on alert. Where will he or they strike next? Kate looked at her map then back to her questions several times.

Kate woke up on Saturday to shocking news: the bra and knickers thief struck at Penzance, in Cornwall, UK. Then, just a few hours, there was a similar case in Torquay in Devon. The Devon and Cornwall Police were setting up checkpoints and checking almost every vehicle for anyone hidden. The Minister of State for Crime, Policing and Fire went on major news networks, reassuring thee public that all police forces were aggressively searching for this criminal. Under much questioning, he advised girls to keep their clothing stored and all to watch for any suspicious individuals in their neighbourhood.

Mr. and Mrs. Summers watched the news with their daughters but the parents didn’t register much concern. “Well, he’s definitely here. I really want to investigate,” she told Chelle, in her elder sister’s room.

Chelle knew what sister meant instead said, “What?”

“I want to be a girl detective.”

“Kate, I’m sure the police will tackle this and it’s happening further away…”

“Oh, don’t give me that protective-big-sister nonsense. I’m no longer the little sister you’ve to protect at the park. I’ve faced danger: I was bound and gagged before. That pervert could strike here.”

Ok, I suspected you had really deep interest in this thief long ago. What do you need? Are others joining you?”

Kate replied she was by herself on this and had investigate the actions of the thief. “Well, being solo isn’t a huge challenge. I’d recommend you meet Lin to get equipped with gadgets – they have been so invaluable in many of our cases. If the criminal strikes near us, you might formally introduce to DCI Nikki Heath who will aid you and arrest him.”

Kate indeed met up with Lin who was elated there was another girl detective. Kate was quickly equipped with the fake foundation powder kit, the recording device for her phone cover, the identification device to attach to her clothing, the laser pen, the ink-and-pepper spray pen and the portable net. “Oh, you don’t have earrings,” Lin was about to issue her with the radio earrings.

“I’ve never found the time after mum told me I was too young a few years ago.”

“No worries, I’ve got these,” Lin handed over what looked wireless earbuds. “I made this last year for the boys after they said the devices clipped to their shirt collar failed to work occasionally. They look like your normal ear buds but there’s markings to differentiate them. There are other gadgets but these are the essential ones. Good luck.”

Filled with gadgets, Kate returned to her questions. She decided that given the time interna; of the similar acts across towns and cities, it had to be different individuals stealing young teens bras and knickers. They must be situated in these towns and cities then, someone must be ‘activating’ them, some main controller. But how can I prove it? Kate wondered.

She turned to reading her Modern History textbook. After finishing several chapters, she turned on the Wi-Fi on her phone and clicked on Sky News. She gave a short squeal as the breaking news said the bra and knickers thief was finally caught in East London, after coordination between Met Intelligence and Frontline police officers. “The suspect will be held with much intensive questioning from our detectives,” the Detective Chief Superintendent declared. Kate paused that video, thinking. Great work for the Met, teen girls throughout the UK can relax. Or can they? It appeared far too easy – why couldn’t European police capture him while the Met could?

Kate went out to purchase toiletries for herself and just so happened to bump into DCI Nikki Heath. After introducing herself, she discussing the shadowy thief issue and her theories. “Those are plausible theories, but my superiors required strong evidence-based theories. Luckily, he’s caught so these can put aside.” Kate brought up her opinion that the arrest was quite simple and the real culprit may be lurking. Nikki pondered then said that’s a possibility.

The possibility increased the next morning as the news stated the suspect was not the bra and knickers thief but some low-key criminal attempting to copy the stealing. Girls in the UK were shocked again with many placed their bra and knickers under lock and key and families installing more house alarms. Then the stealing occurred: this time in Birmingham, close to Croonford The thirteen-year-old girl Katy was thoroughly shocked so her parents had to explain. Just getting out of the shower, the masked man tackled her despite her striking him hard twice in the stomach, he managed to twice pin her down, wrap tape all over her legs, bind her wrists behind her back and her cries were cut off as he wrapped tape around her head twice. Katy was sat up and wailed as he dumped all her underwear even the clean pair she was going to wear in a sack a disappeared.

Creep, Kate thought still wondering how he knew which household to strike. How did he successfully enter without making noise? Kate looked and her eyes rested on her Facebook app. Quickly thinking, she used her spare email to set up an alternative Facebook account including pictures of her room, clothes and adding where she lived. Thirty-six hour later, Chelle was out late revising maths with her classmates. Kate’s mother also had to head out to meet old friends. After acknowledging her mum to lock up windows and doors, Kate settled down, spending time watch TV and reading links on her phone. Around ten minutes into reading international news, Kate heard a minute footstep but as she was about to turn, a thick leather hand cupped over her jaw. A ferocious struggle ensued yet Kate managed break free and ran. The intruder was faster and snatched Kate carrying her in a tight hug. “Ok, whoever you are, I give in,” she panted following the plan she devised.

Without a word, Kate was dumped on the nearest chair and quickly restrained her to the chair, her legs opened wide and bound to the chair legs, naturally creating a large upskirt for the intruder to stare at. A large round of tape was stuck around her lower head, trapping her read hair then the intruder silent headed upstairs.

Kate immediately struggled, but while the tape bonds weren’t terribly tight, she couldn’t remove them after several attempts. After some painful twisting, she pulled out the laser pen and with her free hands and fingers, she attempted to the switch. Lin had warned her if the laser was incorrected fired, her burning skin would be painful. The moment she thought she correctly positioned the pen, she heard the thief’s soft footsteps and quickly hid the gadget.

The fully dark-covered thief stood directly in front of her and held up her old white knickers with diamonds patterns and a matching AA cup bra. “Is this all?” The intruder finally spoke, with a Brummie accent.

Those were her oldest set of underwear and she outgrew them. “I’m cleaning up my drawers, so my underwear is stored in storage.” In gap speak that turn out as ‘I’m cleammning up mmmy drammwers, so mmy undemmrwear is storednm im storage.’

“What?’ The thief then tore off part of the tape gag. With the sting of the adhesive, she repeated herself clearly. In response to his ‘where’, she said she couldn’t fully describe the location and had to show him. There was nearly a minute of pause, then he tore away the chair bonds, leaving Kate’s wrists still bound.

“Don’t try to escape,” he growled. Kate silently hoping her plan was in motion, took him upstairs, then past the bedrooms, she brought the thief to a large closet. “Inside, it’s not locked” she announced as she worked the laser pen back into position. He yanked it with his free hand then releasing his grip on Kate, he pulled with both hands. The door swung open and smelly cooking pots fell on him, pushing him down on the ground with a loud cry. At that moment, with the aid of the laser pen, Kate’s wrists bonds snapped free. She stamped one foot on his back and yanked off his full-face balaclava. Pulling out the other pen, she squirted pepper spray and ink at his face. “That’s for stealing girls’ underwear!” She shouted, then kicked his ribs hard. “And that’s for looking up my skirt!” Without, access to her phone, she used the radio ear buds to call her sister to call the police.

Kate’s hunch was correct, there were many of such thieves located across UK and European towns and cities. “After much intensive interviewing of the UK bra and knickers thief, Romanian police raided Brasov, arresting the kingpin controlling all the bra and knickers thief, With him arrested, police forces can identify the remaining dormant thieves,” the Sky News reporter announced.

“Wow my sister took down not just a thief but a former SRR soldier,” Chelle remarked, referring to the Special Reconnaissance Regiment, Britain’s unit where personnel move stealthily. “And helped bring down a whole gang of thieves. Catherine Jo-Anne Summers, you make me extremely proud. Would you like to formally join our detective group?”

“Well, it was trilling, I’ll consider but I do love choir.”

Michelle, Lin Ling, Jennifer, Mark, Reinhard and Richard will return in ‘All Dressed Up’.

27: The birds and the bees

Summary:

It’s the annual sex education talk at Croonford school. Afterwards, Michelle and Mark spend a night in bed sleeping back-to-back. Reinhard enters Lin’s room for the first time and gets caught touching Lin’s clothes. Jenn questions her sexual orientation. Meanwhile, an exchange student arrives with some shady history with her.

Author’s note: Lot’s of teenager talk about puberty and sex, some implied sexual activity but none since the students are underaged. If you aren’t interested, skip towards the last parts where the binding and gagging occurs.

“Did we reach Year 10? We did, yay!!!” Chelle and Lin exclaimed together and hugged each other before they boarded the school bus. As they entered school grounds, they immediately noticed a number of boys from their year and lower years gathering in a semi-circle.

“Man, that new chick is hot,” the two girl detectives heard one boy remark.

“You only think girls are hot because of their boobs,” another guy added. “But wow, hers are big, bigger than any girl our year…”

“Do you lot have to have anything more serious than commenting of girls’ bodies?” Lin questioned as she neared them. The boys gave her an evil look, stared at her, then left.

“Oh, this school uniform sucks! Wish I could wear normal clothes like in my high school,” Lin heard the new student complain and recognised the New York accent. She extended her hand.

“Yeah, I make no excuses for the uniform but we’re stuck with it. You’re from New York City?

“I’m, Nat, Natalie Sang. You know American accents?” Lin explained she had lived in the States previously.

“Oh cool. I’m here on exchange. My school discovered yours and the heads thought it would be good to learn British-style education. ” Nat fumbled for her bag’s zip, zipper in American English. “Say, this school activities book is damn thick, can you help?”

“Sure, which class did they assign you do?” After seeing the typed note, Lin exclaimed, “That’s mine! I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“…and I’d like to introduce Natalie Sang, an exchange student from America. Please welcome her and help her in all the various….” Mr Lambeth, Chelle and Lin class teacher voice was cut off by the buzz school PA system.

“All students, this year’s sex education lecture has shift forward to today. Year 8s will attend it after lunch break, Year 9s at 11:30 and Year 10s at 10:30….” The whole classroom groaned and Lambeth took time to quietened them down.

“Sex education lecture?!” One male student exclaimed. “Isn’t that too old for us?”

“You know the school, they plan everything for us regardless of age,” another classmate remarked.

“Don’t worry, we’ll ask the typical questions,” a third guy added.

The girls walked away from the guys with Nat also chatting about the incoming talk. “We get in in odd years back in my high school,” she sounded annoyed.

“Don’t worry; it’s nothing much,” Chelle recalled the talks from previous years.

“You actually can sleep through it,” Lin smiled.

The speaker was a different person this year. A lady named Lucinda Bearson was present and her presentation took just fifteen-minutes with loads of pictures. She spent the remaining time opening the floor to questions. While some students did slouch back or even sleep, others did ask questions. Boys asked lewd questions such as ‘what is a hard on?’ ‘What is a blowjob?’ Somme guy actually asked how IUDs could actually fit inside a uterus, causing his friends to laugh. Girls did ask similar questions but some did ask serious questions such as body image, sexual orientation and some dared asking about birth control products.

“Thought that going to be boring as you said; it was quite the opposite,” Nat remarked. Lin was about to answer until she spotted Reinhard. Excusing herself, she headed over to Reinhard who looked glum and asked why.

“My father’s filling the house with his drinking pals and there’ll be too much noise interrupting my studies,” he explained.

“Come over to my place then,” Lin offered and Reinhard paused before accepting the offer.

“Who was that?” Nat wondered and got the answer.

“Your boyfriend?! Isn’t he a little too short for you?”

“I don’t judge some guys by their heights,” Lin explained. “He’s a really skilled and helpful guy.”

Nat found the maths class a little tougher than hers across the pond and was glad it was lunch break. The topic was not their maths class but the morning sex education talk.

“Typical boys asking such vulgar questions and they already answers to,” Heather remarked. Lin agreed.

“Well, you have boyfriend now,” Julia, one of the few Black girls in Year 10 pointed out. Lin hadn’t advertised her relationship to others except Julia whom she was close with. She just murmured in response.

“What about you and Mark, Chelle?” Hattie, her classmate asked and Chelle answered the rugby player was a gentleman and there was never crude talk.

“I like the answer Madame Bearson above our bodies. I’m indeed confident of mine,” Heather continued the topic.

“You’re confident because you got a C cup,” Hattie smirked.

“I’m a C as well,” Lin added and they all laughed.

As the students headed to their various classes, Bethan quickly ran up to Jenn. “Hey, something wrong? You were quiet throughout the lunch conversation.”

“I was eating my sandwich.”

“No, you were staring away and look away.”

“Oh, you’ve caught the vibe. Can we catch up lit class?”

Meanwhile, Chelle invited Mark over to her house that evening, stating she had it all to herself.

After a long Lit class, Jenn pulled Bethan to a corner, checking first if there was anyone in earshot then explained.

“Ignoring the body image stuff, I’m not keen on the sexuality, the sexual orientation stuff. I mean I don’t think I’m…heterosexual,” Jenn had a painful expression.

“So, you’re…a lesbian?” Jenn yanked Bethan closer despite that no one else was nearby.

“I’m not certain. I’m not one to date boys right now and…”

“Jenn, don’t worry, you’re not alone. There are other homosexual couples in the school and… I’m…bi,” Bethan smiled.

“You are?!”

“Sure, we can go out together. It’ll be fun.”

That afternoon, Reinhard arrived at Lin’s residence having shaved twice and applied deodorant. “Hey,” Lin smiled and gave him a light hug. “The living and study rooms are under refurbishing by my mother. Why don’t you come up to my room; there’s enough space for two to complete our homework.”

To her room?! I must be a lucky guy to get the opportunity enter a beautiful and clever girl’s bedroom. Inside he found posters, not of male models or music groups but of chemistry formulas, physics equations, natural and human biology pictures. There was a makeup vanity with dozens of lipsticks and perfumes he couldn’t identify.

“My study table is here,” she interrupted him. “You can start first; got to head to the toilet.” Reinhard started to unzip his bag but surmising her bathroom door was sound-proof, he tip-toed over to what he guessed was her clothes cabinet. Which shelf, which shelf, he wondered with his heart racing. He pulled open the second shelf and smiled as he found what he wished: Lin’s underwear drawer. Inside, were around ten knickers arranged neatly on one side while more than that number of bras were arranged on the other side. Some of her knickers were white or cream-coloured while the majority were purple. There more bikini-style knickers than classic ones. Her bras were similar; there were several white or skin-tone ones all normal kind, The rest, mostly purple, were all various types: strapless, T-shirt, demi-cup, V-neck, sports, halter and other kinds he couldn’t identify. Reinhard reached forward and was about to hold up one of her bras when an alarm rang.

“Interested in my underwear?” Lin exited her toilet, pointing to her watch. “It’s an alarm that I build inside my drawers. I deactivated the motion sensor but there’s the small CCTV. It’s linked to my watch.”

“I..I…” Reinhard turn red in deeply with embarrassment.

“No harm, no crime,” Lin smiled and patted her boyfriend. He relaxed a bit, still feeling guilty.

“Can…can I ask a question?” She nodded.

“Do you actually attach the identification chip you made to your bras?

Lin smiled again. “I don’t know about the other girls but yes I do. It takes a while to sew them to the cup and I do ensure I’m wearing a bra that has the chip attached. It helps being a girl. Any other questions?”

Reinhard had one other burning one and wondered if she would slap him if he asked. He blurted it out and to his surprise all she did was to laugh and then whisper the number ’32C’ shocking him.

“You know, one day you might find me trussed up and gagged in my bra and undies,” she joked but he didn’t respond. Lin then leaned forced to kiss him on his lips but he shook his head. “I’m not ready for that.”

Ok, let’s do our homework now.”

Mark came over to Chelle’s place in the evening. They finished up their home fast and too tired to cook, they ordered an Indian takeaway. As they ate, Chelle thought: I have such a lovely boyfriend – he’s a leading rugby player and very muscular guy who really can rescue during any of the detective activities. Dinner over, Chelle immediately grabbed Mark and brought him to her bedroom, immediately switching on her CD player. Both of them started dancing to Jamiroquai’s songs. They were dancing wild until Mark looked at the clock and noted it was time for him to head home. However, there was a long engaged tone when he tried to call a taxi. That same response came when he tried other companies.

“Oh look,” Chelle showed a news clip on her phone. “The news reports that the storm outside has disabled the phone signals.”

“Darn, I better head to the bus stop then,” Mark yawned.

“Mark, don’t go out in such weather. Are you tired?” He explained he had a strenuous rugby game yesterday and his back was aching a bit. He started to sit down but she told him to lie down on her bed. He indeed did and she started massaging his back. More than 30 minutes later, Chelle had turned face-to-face and they were locked in a passionate embrace deeply kissing each other on their lips. They stay like this for the rest of the late evening but what the pair did not suspect what their actions were photographed by a long-range camera. The couple fell asleep back-to-back but just before midnight, the phone lines were restored and after one deeply kiss on her lips, Mark left.

“He won’t let me kiss him on the lips,” Lin told Chelle the next day during their short break.

“You really picked a challenging boyfriend.” She replied. “He really touched one of your bras? Cheeky fellow. Give him….”

“Hey Lin! Thanks for informing about the drama club! They immediately made me a member after one try out!” Nat Sang interrupted. “Say, that shopping trip you suggested, we can meet up this Saturday.”

The teen detectives, including the newest member Richard, congregated at their usual headquarters that weekend. Scanning the local and regional news as well as chatter amongst their friends, they found nothing to investigate. Breaking up early, Lin went to meet Nat while Jenn headed to meet Bethan for her first date.

“What exactly do I do?” Jenn asked.

“Oh, just hold my hand, hug and kiss me.” Jenn wasn’t sure about immediately hugging and kissing so lightly held her new girlfriend’ hand. She was thankful that Bethan chose a part of Birmingham the other school students frequented. They saw a musical, walk throughout stores that sell props for their drama club. Meanwhile, across the city Nat was more than pleased with the results of her shopping trip with Lin.

“Oh man, I’ve always thought British fashion was bland, dull,” This, she lifted up her shopping bags, “now really changes my view.”

“I believe that America fashion has just a notch over…” Lin’s eyes narrowed. ” See those guys over there? They’ve been following us since the last half hour.” Lin quickly got her into a crowded area.

“I didn’t notice. It’s your detective work, right? Real life Hardy Boys and Nancy Drews?”

Lin laughed. “We don’t match ourselves to fictional teen detectives but yes, we look out for the peculiar.” Nat asked if she was ever bound and gagged.

“Oh, too many times, same with the other girls. For some unknown reasons, the boys never get such treatment.” Scanning the crowd, Lin didn’t see the men but suggested they return home.

Chelle was amazed how quickly this exchange student grew close to Lin. She saw them chatting, learning that Nat was also a single child. Both girls could chat about American lifestyle and Lin was helping her with to adjust with the British school syllabus. Jenn was still unsure whether chatting she made the right choice being a lesbian. She was actually shocked to learn that Bethan was a bisexual and was glad that was no other boy in her friend’s life. In another class, Reinhard was again feeling guilty from his childish act. Maybe I should try to please her. Another meal out? But we’ve ate out many times, he recalled. Sports? She’s always faster. Lin’s birthday is coming up, darn, he then recalled. What can I get her? After handing in his class work and ensuring that his teacher wasn’t looking, he doodled on his foolscap paper and came back to one word: dress.

“Yeah, I can associate with Nat well, are you jealous of my friendship with her?”

“No, well…” Lin interrupted Chelle as she pointed. “Those men again!” She crossed the street but they disappeared.

“You sure they were the same?” Lin nodded. “Maybe ask Nat if she had any conflicts or problems previously.”

Dress, what sort of dress to dress get her? Reinhard wondered after school. He looked through the web but there were too many to choose from. He suddenly realised he was missing the most crucial element: her dress size. How would he know it? He couldn’t ask her that directly, he could ask the other girls but he then thought they might not know and the surprise would be given away. I’ll have work that out myself, he sighed. I do know her cup size.

Chelle and Lin caught up with Nat and queried her. “Well of course every schoolgirl has their problems. I was bullied much cause of my fast growing boobs,” she gestured to hers. “I had a short relationship at Seventh Grade but we broke up amicably.”

“Any family problems?” Chelle asked.

“None, in fact Dad may be coming here. He’s going to be Economic Secretary at the embassy in London or something of that sort. Any other questions?”

The pair told her to watch out for anyone or group unusual call the police or inform them if she was in danger. Meanwhile, Jenn received an invite for a sleepover at Bethan’s. “What’s going to happen?” The last sleepover Jenn participated in was when she was ten and the noise made her promise never to partake in such activity again.

“Oh, just mostly personal chatter.” That was mostly the truth, they talked about, debate, drama life and then it was just past 11 pm. Holding her girlfriend’s hand, Jenn found herself inside Bethan’s bedroom. “I’ll change out into my pyjamas,” she said then noticed Bethan taking off her clothes.

“Jenn, we’re a couple now. Pyjamas?! Down to your undies honey. I’ve turned up the heater.”

Jenn protested several times but soon undressed down to her white underwear which was a stark contrast to Bethan’s black bra and pink skimpy knickers. Quickly, Jenn was pulled under Bethan’s duvet and they were cuddling each other. Suddenly, Jenn felt a peck on her lips, then a long kiss then a deep kiss. Jenn wanted to say stop but Bethan was enjoying herself way too much, already feeling an orgasm. Trapped in a new dimension, Jenn submitted herself until she too felt sensations between her legs, feelings she never felt before. It lasted nearly fifty minutes until both girls slumped down. What on earth have I committed myself to? Jenn wailed silently.

As morning dawned and the new couple slept, Lin and Nat were out shopping again, this time for hosiery. Instead of heading to Brum, Lin too her new friend to a shopping area that just opened in Croonford. They had finished shopping but just as they were about to return, Nat spotted an American cafe that she wanted to try. Lin didn’t recall such a place existed but followed her in. After a few sips of a copycat of That’s every day coffee, Nat excused herself to the loo. Lin patiently waited, but after half an hour, there was no sight of the new girl. Paying for the coffee, Lin grabbed their purchases and headed in the direction of the toilets.

Instead, she found the doors to both male and female loos with signs reading ‘Under Repair’. Nat?” She still knocked on the female toilet door. “Are you there?”

“Can’t read a sign, babe?”

Lin turned and saw a dark-skinned man wearing dark clothing,

“Hey, have a black-haired 5’6 tall girl?” Lin briefly described Nat.

“No, sweetheart ain’t no one else here. But you look hot.”

Lin, disgusted with that comment, turned back, but two more men suddenly emerged, blocked her path. She immediately tried to push her way through but the men were far stronger. She immediately recognised them as the men she spotted following her and Nat.

“Ain’t no way out Lin Ling,” the dark-skinned man announced with a US East Coast accent. “Yeah, we’ve read up about you.”

“Ya hot,” said one of the pair, with a particular New York accent.

“Yeah, Chink girls here are hot,” the other commented. Lin attempted to kick him but he was faster. catching her leg and Lin fell on the ground, the contents of her shopping bags scattering all over.

“Ooh, yeah, ninja gal. Well, you want to see ya big tits friend, follow us.” Lin was roughly locked in an arm lock with a large gloved-hand covering her lips.

Lin was half-marched, half-dragged into a darkened area.

“Now,” the first man ordered, “strip Miss Chan.”

With the tranquillizer gun aimed steadily at her, the East Asian student reluctantly took off her coat and jumper, slowly worked the buttons of her blouse. It felt silently to the ground revealing her 32C breasts supported by her bra cups. With the other thugs now drawing small knives, she grimaced and unclipped her maroon skirt.

“Hose, too or is it tights here,” the trio laughed.

As Lin was forced to undress, her boyfriend was shopping for a dress still trying to guess her size. He looked through the various shops and settled on Next heading immediately heading to the women’s section.

“Aren’t you in the wrong section son?” A shop assistant called, making him turn red.

“I’m…uhm looking for some dress for my girlfriend. “He shivered.

“Of course, we have them,” a female salesgirl approached, shooing away her colleague and guiding him further in.

Looking at the price range, he asked if there were any cheaper sets.

“Oh, here. Do you need help with the size? Here you go,” Reinhard was thankful for the size chart.

As he was looking at the dresses and imagining Lin’s dress size, the girl detective was now face down on the ground just in her black bra and purple knickers. Her hands were tightly bound behind her back with two sets of cable ties. Another set of cable ties bound her elbows together, keeping her arms straight. Similar sets of cables bound her knees and her ankles. She was naturally gagged with something thick her mouth and tied behind her head, further sealed with two long strips of black duct tape.

“Want to try kicking me now gal?” American Thug #1 mocked. Lin tried to give an angry scream but this gag really muffled it.

The other thug reached down and snapped Lin’s bra causing her to produce a muffled curse. He was about the touch her when the dark-skinned man announced, “ok, let’s go to our target.”

Once Lin no longer heard their footsteps, she naturally twisted, not struggled as ties would cut further into her skin. In most other cases, she might be able to twist and turn to reach any of her gadgets but now semi-naked there was nothing to access. Lifting her head, she couldn’t see any of her clothes in sight and only darkness. The floor and room air were ultimately chilly. There was only one hope: to turn her fingers and reach her watch. Usually, it might contain the watch cutter but it now contained a signal device that could be sent to the mobile phones of the other detectives, if they were in range.

Reinhard took just over half an hour before picking the dress which he though fit Lin’s size. It was purple, her favourite colour, strapped, slight V-neck but he thought it wouldn’t be too revealing for his taste and the dress length seem appropriate. “That’s a good choice,” the salesgirl commented. It cost him nearly all of his monthly allowance. It should be worth it, he thought.

Just as he exited the store into the street, his phone buzzed. It was an unstated number but the message jolted him. “HELP ME, LIN.” Immediately, he pulled out his phone and texted her back received no response. Activating the identification App she made, his heart leapt as her signal came around 200 metres north-east of him. I’m coming, he called silently, rushing in that direction nearly knocking into a pedestrian and nearly gets hit by a car. Reinhard finally reached the cafe and found a close sign. Typical he thought, rushing around to the back but finding a tall rusty fence with spikes. There was no clear sign of a gate, so he threw his whole weight against it and it broke on the second try.

Lin’s signal grew closer after he navigated a narrow corridor and gasped as he saw her undressed state. After peeling off the tape, he found that the stuffing was a pair of tights.

“Yucks,” he remarked both from the fact they were soggy and that she was gagged with such intimate lingerie.

“Hi…” Lin woke up. “I… think they’re clean.” As she was finally freed, she rubbed her bare skin and he quickly draped his coat over her.

“They…have Nat.” With her hugging him to gain warmth, the quickly found her. Nat was also stripped to her black underwear, similarly gagged. She was trussed up in a tight hogtie tie while the three goons were filming her struggling and making comments constantly stating ‘Mr Sang.’

“Oh, you got free,” the dark-skinned guy growled, pointing his tranquilliser gun at them.

“Police! Drop your weapon now!”

The man turned towards the sound and Reinhard, risking it, ran forward and kicked him.

“Alright, that was too brave a move,” Detective Sergeant (DS) Bluebell Ransom remarked as other Police Constables (PC) rushed in, handcuffing the thugs and freeing the exchange student. “Oh, get her some clothes, quickly,” she told the PC next to her.

“Well, you did find me trussed up in my bra and knickers,” Lin joked. She was now wearing oversized police T-shirt and slacks. They had found her clothes but the goons had dumped them in a rubbish bin. Reinhard was treated for light bruises caused from barging through the fence while Lin had cuts from the cable ties.

“That was an interesting device,” Reinhard changed the subject as he sat next to her on the ambulance.

“Yeah, it was short-range. Thankfully you were nearby. What were you up to?” He reached into his backpack, hoping the box wasn’t crushed. “Early happy birthday.” She responded by giving him a kiss on his cheek.

Jenn was still in a trace after sleeping with Bethan. Quickly dressed but her knickers still damp, she faced her friend and taking a long a long sip of tea, she announced, “I can’t continue this Bethan. I don’t think I am a lesbian anymore.”

“Did I take it too fast? Are you now heterosexual?”

“I don’t know. Sorry.” She got up and returned home lying to her mother she was studying late with a friend before locking herself in her room.

As post cases go, Lin and Reinhard spent time with DS Ransom. The three thugs were hired by a rival of Nat’s father and were humiliating him and his daughter by sending live video to his phone as well as telling what they knew about his shady business deals. The live feed could not be cut but Mr. Sang managed to contact the local police department which in turn contacted Croonford police. The American coffee shop was commandeered by the goons and were expecting Nat to enter it. Her coffee was laced with a diuretic. “I don’t think Dad will be posted to London now,” Nat told Lin over normal coffee and also said her exchange programme was extended.

The East Asian girl excused herself and headed home where Reinhard waited. “Oh, it looks so lovely!” She exclaimed as she opened the gift. Avoiding any mischievous act, he waited patiently as she changed into it.

“It’s a little big,” she commented as she emerged from the bathroom. “Size 8?! I’m a 6.”

“Oh,” was his only response, feeling way disappointed.

“Don’t feel terrible. Look it can be returned and exchanged.” She again leaned forward and attempted to kiss him on the lips.

“Sorry, I’m just not ready for that.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t think I’m at that stage.”

It certainly is a challenge dating him, she sighed, “Ok, let’s grab food, my treat.”

Michelle, Lin Ling, Jennifer, Mark and Richard will return in ‘Scottish Fling’.

22: State Property

Summary:

Michelle has always believed that her father was just some sort of official in the FCDO. When an old nemesis appears, she’s given clues to discover the truth.

Author’s note: I do want to complete rhe mystery over Chelle’s ‘alien abduction’, but with current world events in Ukraine, this story if very appropriate.

This story is entirely fictional.

“Dad, you’ll be missing my choral and dance act yet again,” Catherine Summers complained at breakfast time.

“So sorry, sweetie, I often have to work late and today I might have to travel abroad. I’ll get you another present from my trip.” Kate wanted to say she was reaching the age where dolls or feminine toys weren’t her interest anymore but stop complaining.

Michelle Summers, by now a veteran teen detective, quickly picked up. “Dad, what exactly do you do at work?”

“Just boring government stuff,” came the hurried answer.

“But dad…”

“Focus on your studies Michelle and try to avoid weird encounters.” Chelle’s parents no longer barred from her detective activities yet they were still not exactly happy with what she and her colleagues got into, especially since the last alien-like encounter was not resolved. Mr. Arthur Summers drank the remainder of his coffee, hugged each of his girls and left.

“Mum, what exactly does dad do at work?” Chelle repeated her question.

“Just government work. Finish up or you’ll be late for school.” Chelle didn’t accept that answer but obeyed and walked out with her younger sister. The late spring weather was warm enough for both girls to wear socks instead of tights. Chelle made a quick decision and told her sister she’ll walk to school — Chell paid a monthly fare for the school bus, it was the last day of school anyway. As she turned the first block, she met up with her fellow girl detectives Lin Ling and Jennifer who also were taking advantage from the warmer weather. Despite that their school skirts were long enough — one centimetre above their knees, Jenn always feared she might produce an unwanted upskirt and always wished the school would produce trousers for girls.

Chelle interrupted Jenn’s thoughts, repeating the breakfast conversation at her house. “Maybe your dad is just some civil servant at the Foreign Office or…he’s a spy,” remarked Lin.

Lin’s comment was close to accurate as Arthur Summers didn’t head to King Charles Street where the funnily named Foreign Commonwealth and Development Office (FCDO) was located but instead to St George Wharf Car Park. Heading to the second floor, he pulled opened a cleaner’s door which actually revealed a metal panel with a keypad and retinal scanner. That unlocked the whole panel, revealing a darken narrow corridor. An equally dark-clothed man armed with a HK416 and Glock 17 approached him, examined his identification card, face and scanned his fingerprints before escorting him to an electric car. The car sped through three armoured doors before stopping in an open area. Arthur had to enter another combination lock and pull open an electric-secured handle that was monitored by staff inside before entering the UK’s Secret Intelligence Service (SIS).

The SIS, more commonly and actually inaccurately known as MI6, is one of the UK’s key intelligence organisations. Made famous by the James Bond movies and other British spy films, British intelligence officers, not agents, don’t act at all like Mr. Bond. In a short summary, SIS officers gather intelligence data along with the Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ), the Security Service or better known as MI5 and Defence Intelligence – Military Intelligence and pass it on to the  Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC) which is supported by the Joint Intelligence Organisation (JIO), where the data is assessed.

“Chelle, you could double check the gov dot uk site to check if your dad is just working in some civil servant department,” Jenn suggested as they entered the school grounds.

“I have and searched the archives and couldn’t find any mention of his name or initials.”

“Chelle, as I guess he’s working in intelligence, there won’t be any mention of him or his work, ” Lin added. “But working in such an organisation is not a crime.”

The SIS, unlike its larger American counterpart, has not provide its organisational structure on its bland website or public sources for unknown reasons. This has created both misunderstandings and constant for calls for transparency from the media, think tanks and campaigners. It also allowed the SIS to almost freely conduct its work, with some oversight freely and form even more secretive cells within its own organisation. This was where Arthur Summers came in – he was the Director of Exploitative Operations in Eastern Europe. Arthur was viewing files some current operations when he was called into the Director General’s private office.

School ended for May break with the usual announcements and homework distributed. Chelle tried to get the gang together but due to the last two cases, the others had to give their statements again to the police, especially Lin along with Julia Humes as Detective Sergeant (DS) Bluebell Ransom was liaising with her American counterparts regarding the online harassment. Chelle found herself trapped with her literature and media club activities. Louisa Grant, her senior, wanted her to head down to some East London school to help build up its media club. Chelle initially wanted to refuse then accept as a London trip might help reveal her father’s work.

Arthur had already suspected the reason he was call for before he entered the electronically-controlled office. A cup of coffee was already poured. “Arthur,” the moustached Director General, George Healey “Our American friends aren’t pleased with the death of their officer Claire Stirrup.” Arthur countered the operation for Stirrup was to survey from a wide distance and knew the risk as a CIA officer. “The Malaysian authorities still stopped a nuclear IED thanks to all the intelligence. He knew his elder daughter and her friends helped stop the IED and nearly got radiation sickness but didn’t bring it up.

Healey took a large puff of his cigar then continued. “Well, they’re still grumbling about it and you have Operation Monitor to complete, especially with all the ruckus going in Ukraine. If the communications don’t work well here, there’s a flight out of Northolt after noon.” He meant RAF Northolt, a RAF base which conduct military and civilian flights, the latter comprising of British intelligence flights to overseas stations.

Chelle was quite tired, not just from the delayed train journey and her period, yet managed to given a substantial presentation to the London school’s media club. After using the toilet, she was about to turn to the exit, she heard voice call out her name and encountered five girls advanced towards her. “Hey, you’re the great detective from Cromford, right?” one who introduced herself as Amber.

“Yes…”

“We need you for our fundraising. For your looks and fame,” Amber explained Chelle just had to sit down while students donate money due to her looks. The teen detective initially wanted to refuse, then learnt the money would help the homeless.

“That was long but at least tucked away, “Reinhard remarked as he and Lin exited the police station, having given additional statements to Detective Sergeant (DS) Bluebell Ransom. Lin noticing how bright the weather was, suddenly asked him if he played any sport. When she heard swimming, Lin suggested the small river behind the town library. “See you there in an hour,” she waved.

Chelle was actually surprised her looks and her fame actually gather £100 from the rest of the school population within fifteenth minutes. She got up thinking it was over but some of the other girls pushed her back down. A black cloth was securely tied around her eyes, causing her to yelp but a hand covered her jaw with a voice telling her to stop struggling and be quiet.

“So, this is the girl the boss lady wants?” Chelle heard another girl ask.

“That’s her,” Chelle heard Amber reply. “Her name’s Michelle and she thinks she’s some real detective. I mean look at her, does she look like Nancy Drew to you?”

“Don’t know,” another girl replied. “I was more into the Famous Five myself. Come on, let’s get her ready I want the money.”

Chelle immediately heard plastic snapping and a sweet aroma pervaded her senses.

“The lady invented them,” she heard Amber explain, “Stun phials, you crack them open, hold them under the target’s nose and boom!'”

“So, she’s now unconscious?” She heard the first voice ask.

No Chelle thought silently I can hear every word you say. But I can’t move my muscles at all! I can’t speak! Wait, I’ve been through this before!

“Not fully. As I understand, it she’ll only be able to hear us. The drug paralyses every muscle, then sleep comes a little later. We can shortly safely to move her.”

Sure enough, Chelle saw, not felt the girls easily lift her up and took her out with no teacher in sight just before her eyes closed. She woke up quickly, finding the blindfold removed and her limbs moveable but felt extremely weak. Chelle scanned around and assumed she was no longer in the school. Naturally she tried to move, however a figure approached and she gasped immediately recognising. “Madame Priscilla Redmond! You nearly killed me and Lin with an IED last time!”

“I make my sincere apologies. Your father…” Chelle, despite her weakness started protesting until the fake teacher managed to calm her down. “Michelle your father is in danger. Yes, he has been working for British intelligence, no not for normal SIS operations; he’s in charge of deep covert operations in Eastern Europe and is currently personally gathering information that will aid the Ukrainians. However, the Black Shirts, a group that I used to be with, is targeting him for revenge.” She held up her hand and threw a piece of paper near Chelle. “You’ll get your strength back in a few minutes and oh, you might need this,” she tossed a sanitary towel down as well, then disappeared in the shadows.

Arthur Summers in fact was in Przemyśl, a Polish town near the Ukrainian border. Operation Monitor was centred on using a local asset codenamed Rainbow monitoring if there was pro-Russian Ukrainians or activity in Western Ukraine and to counter any misinformation with a special device named Zeus. The communications were of course far better here than in SIS HQ yet were choppy at rare times. Arthur was intensely focused on liaising with Rainbow, the communication link suddenly faded. He tapped the set furiously and then called the SIS technician twice but received no answer. Frowning, he turned, only to hear a loud explosion.

“That was actually wonderful, “Reinhard remarked as he got out of the town river. “And thanks for helping me improve my backstroke.”

“No problem,” Lin replied. She chose to wear a normal one-piece black swimsuit as opposed to her usual bikinis as she recalled last time she wore reveal clothing near him. With a towel wrapped around her head, she retrieved their mobile phones from the buried box which was her latest gadget — if you enter the wrong combination code the first time, a foul stench would emit. What surprised them was a photograph of the paper Priscilla Redmond left at Chelle’s feet.

“It’s German,” the shorter teenager muttered, typing a translation. “It’s directions to some carpark in some area in North London, but I can’t translate the next paragraph, not sure what language that is.”

“And there’s some faded symbol at the side. Let’s get changed out and gather the others,” Lin suggested, hoping Chelle was heading to that location alone.

Chelle did in fact head to that location since it was along the train route back home. The car park was partly shaded and there weren’t many parked. She quickly walked past each vehicle until she saw two vans, one white with black stripes, the other in a cream colour. As she approached the striped van, she was felt like she was pushed and fell into the other van. It was either the day’s events or some odourless gas that made the girl detective sleep.

Lin thought the language was Romanian, Jenn thought Polish or some language from the Baltic region. Reinhard and Mark neither had success enhancing and enlarging Finally Jenn wildly mentioned that they should show it to Chelle’s mum; it was way beyond their abilities and wasn’t a police-centred case.

Chelle awoke to the sound of engines; they weren’t jet engines but propeller-driven ones. She felt the vehicle jerk not from its engine and soon realised the van inside some transport plane that was descending down. Soon enough, she heard wheel touch the ground and the plane shift around finally breaking to a halt and the sound of an aircraft ramp lowered. The van she was in, started reversing and despite the blacked windows, she could surmise that it had drove into a hangar. The vehicle stopped and the back door popped open.

By luck, Mrs Margaret Summers was at home. As usual, he faced turn to a worried look when learn from Lin and Jenn her elder daughter wasn’t contactable. Upon seeing the faded symbol on the paper, her face turned ashen and asked for a copy.

“What does that mean?” Lin asked but Maggie Summers just thanked them, went to her bedroom and dialled a private number.

The open door of then van reveal pitch darkness and hardly any smell. Chelle waited for nearly a minute before getting out slowly. There was hardly any objects as far as she could make out or any way out. Just as she was trying to guess which country she was now in or what move to make, there was an electronic buzzing sound.

“Hello, Michelle Summers, great teenaged detective, daughter of Arthur Jason Summers,” Chelle tried not to flinch upon hearing her father’s full name. “I know you want to see daddy right?” Chelle kept silent.

“I take as a ‘yes’. What we want is full cooperation. We’ll let you see daddy, then we’ll let you go too. That’s a guarantee,” the muffled voice continued. Small beans of light shone, revealing rifles pointing at her.

Chelle did not really like her chances. She wished she had contacted the authorities or the others were here.

“What do you want me actually to do?”

“Walk to the light that I’ll shine and you find a small table. There’ll be a roll of cloth, duct tape and a pair of handcuffs. You’re to stuff the cloth into your mouth, gag yourself and cuff yourself with your hands behind your back, make sure it is behind your back. Wait there. We’ll then pick you up and you’ll see daddy dearest. After that there’ll be some small talk then we’ll let you go. Any silly moves at all and daddy will see your dead body. Nod in agreement.”

Chelle nodded and tried not to be frightened. But having heard her father’s name easily meant he was captured by this group. With the light shone, she walked, quite confidently and found the items as mentioned. She grimaced with distaste at the tight roll of cloth. It was thick, a torn piece of bed sheet, with some marks on it. Sighing internally, she didn’t stuff the cloth completely in her mouth an tore a short piece of the silvery tape. The handcuffs were small steel circlets connected by a single link of chain. Chelle slipped her right wrist into one circlet and clicked it shut. Then, taking a deep breath, she placed her arms behind her back and found the other cuff with her left hand. Carefully, she slipped her wrist into the metal ring, braced herself, then clicked it into place. The single link of chain definitely allowed very little freedom of movement.

Michelle looked up and before she could turn around, another vehicle drove up next to her. Arms pulled her inside and no seat belt was clipped on, nearly throwing her against the front seat. She was suddenly grabbed and felt the handcuffs were tightened. Another. set of hands had locked handcuffs over her socks. The vehicle sped out of the hangar and Chelle’s attention was on her gag. The cloth penetrated deep into her mouth against her tongue, causing a gagging reflex that she had to fight for the first few minutes. The tightness of the tape created more difficulty for her to breathe and thus she slumped slightly seat. No I’ve have to focus, she reminded herself and sat up between the two armed men, she assumed they were men sitting next to her. Like the van previously, this car’s windows were shaded but there was enough light and Chelle saw truck with another person holding one to some small box. She tried to raise her head, but one thug next to her pushed her down and muttering in a language she did not comprehend, a black hood was thrown over her head, keeping her in pure darkness.

The car ride wasn’t long and Chelle soon felt herself being carried. The two men carried her, one at her shoulders and the other holding her bare legs. She now guessed that she was being carried into a factory or a building that smelt of old machines and some odour she couldn’t identify. She was lowered with unsurprising roughness onto what felt like a stone surface. One of the men rolled her onto her face, less gently now. Her legs were folded behind her so that her trainers rested against her buttocks, possibly creating and upskirt.

Despite all the lethargy, Chelle raised her head and breathed as best as the hood and tape stretched taut across her face allowed. That was She felt dizzy and nauseous. She felt a bit sick but dare not vomit because of the gag. The dead air of the cellar still was a little refreshing if only the hood could be removed. She breathed a sigh of relief when the sounds of the men’s shoes receded and footfalls and a heavy door closed. Chelle started rubbing the hood and trying to yank her arms from her back to her front when she heard the footsteps return. Arms held her extremely tight as she felt her blazer cut away, then her blouse, and her skirt, Chelle struggled as best as she could but her trainers were pulled away and the leg cuffs were temporarily removed to allow her socks pulled off. Bound and gagged in my undies, and hooded, what a way to spend the holidays.

As Chelle was unceremoniously undressed, there was a discussion between Director General Healey, the Chief of the SIS and the Chair of the JIC in a secure room in the Cabinet Office. The Head of Station in Poland had sent and urgent report when discovering the destruction of their secret base in Przemyśl and deaths of its personnel. A quick examination of the bodies informed SIS who was behind the attack. “Only Summers is not amongst the bodies, the asset Rainbow is out of contact and the special Zeus device is missing. Summers’ wife also confirmed he’s an a ‘in danger’ message sent,” Healey summarised.

“How big of a mess is this?” Asked the SIS head, waving away his deputy’s cigar.

The answer was huge, both from the device data and ability and how much Arthur Summer’s knew about the UK’s intelligence operations. The JIC Chairman remarked, “We can launch an op to find the device, but for one man? I don’t want to explain to the PM how we start an international incident. Or get the ISC breathing down our necks.” The ISC was of course the Intelligence and Security Committee of Parliament, made famous to the world from the Bond movie Skyfall. The three men debated and the decision finally was made to contact the DSF, the unnamed Director of Special Forces.

Chelle was suddenly pulled to sit up and as she heard the sound or a door opening, the hood was removed. “DmmmD!” She cried, recognising the figure guarded by a hooded thug. Her father’s hands were cuffed in front of him.

“Piotr!” Arthur yelled, shouting the actual name of the asset code named Rainbow. “You traitor!”

“Your country, was the traitor, leaving my parents tortured by the Soviets! And still is! And you’re in no place to lecture me while I hold you darling daughter!” Chelle cried again through her gag as she felt her hair yanked. She was naturally embarrassed to encounter her dad undressed down to her bra and knickers. At least her period was over…

“Oh really? I have your special device which will sell extremely to any state or non-state actors. And given me the list of current British intelligence operations, first in Europe then in East Asia…”

There was a short pause then the floro next to Chelle opened up, revealing a large pool of water. “Or your girl gets dunk in a pool of piranhas!” All the thugs laughed.

“Leave her alone!”

“Names please,” Chelle looked up to see the former SIS asset holding a notepad. Facing her father she cried once again through her gag, trying to tell him not to give in, although another part of her did not wish to suffer a gruesome death or bite There was a pause then Chelle found herself pushed into the pool.

“No!!!” Arthur Summers yelled in response but just before than push, Chelle had managed to cut off the handcuff’s chain with the only gadget she had, Lin’s special watch cutter. Flying down, luck was with her as a pipe was within reach and she quickly grabbed it. The water was still extremely close to her bare feet and she could see the outline of the deadly fishes.

“Hemmlp! Hemmlp! Hemmlp!” Chelle cried and heard multiple shots. Was Dad dead?! No!!! Suddenly three thugs fell into the water and Chelle saw blood in their heads. The shots came from eight men of the UK Special Forces most elite and clandestine unit, E Squadron, which had a strong history operating with the SIS. Within less than three minutes, all the thugs were killed and the Troop leader, lowered his LWRC International Ultra Compact Individual Weapon (UCIW) and radioed a report, “All enemies present KIA,” meaning killed in action. “Rainbow not in sight, device not present.”

“Hey! Help my daughter up,” Arthur called and Chelle was really grateful as she was hauled up. As her removed her gag, she recalled want the SAS leader radioed and after taking a large drip of water, she recalled what she saw from the car.

“Thanks, stay with them,” the leader told one of his men while the others exited and father and daughter shared a large hug.

The E squadron team had managed to find and kill Piotr just before he could drive across the border and sell the special device. Being clandestine in nature, the unit whisked father, daughter and themselves back to UK soil as shadowy as they arrived and the SIS leaders were glad it was kept that way. The shadowy lady, Priscilla Redmond was picked up by UK customs officers but was making a deal, revealing the Black Shirts’ activities and her own.

Back in the Summers home, the whole family was sitting quietly for a small meal, Chelle rubbing much ointment over the cuts on her wrists and moisturiser on her face. Arthur was the first the break the ice.

“Today, I lied once again to my girls, and nearly got my wonderful detective daughter eaten up,”

“Dad…” Chelle started but Arthur held up his hands.

“I know, SIS rules are very strict in telling family members what their staff really do. My wife knows.” The symbol on the paper was Arthur’s danger message. Maggie Summers was once an executive assistant at MI5 and met her husband at a function. They had moved the girls up to Croonford in case SIS adversaries would find the family. How Priscilla Redmond discovered the symbol was still under investigation.

“No more secrets, no more. Thank you, Michelle, thank you Maggie and I’ll attend your choral act Kate. I’m changing jobs.” he hugged each girl, kissing Chelle on her forehead before returning to his room.

Michelle, Lin Ling, Jennifer, Mark and Reinhard will return in ‘The Truth Revealed?’