Horatio Palmer's 3rd Assignment

[Dragon's muse]

Craft a scene/chapter/story within the following parameters:

A seduction takes place, but the primary purpose is not sexual gratification.

[Horatio Palmer]

It was the kind of morning that Clinton Baines knew foretold of the heat of the day to come. The sky was cloudless and there was no wind. The sky was the same kind of blue as his sleek Jaguar sedan. As he drove slowly through the neighbourhood near the Horizon Park chapel. He could see kids playing in the gardens with hoses, mothers out jogging on the sidewalks and dogs lying lazily in any shade they could find. It was a typical Saturday, Summer morning in San Diego. He reached the church and he stepped out of the air-conditioned Jag into the morning heat. He didn’t lock his doors- he never did. No one would dream of stealing from Baines.
Clinton Baines was fifty. His hair was black and slick- obviously dyed. His complexion was sallow and swarthy. He knew there was Italian blood in him somewhere. His business card said that he was a private detective and bail bondsman, but those in the know told a different story. They knew that, for a price, they could get Clinton Baines to do anything, regardless of legality. He had been before the courts countless times, but he had never been convicted of a single thing. It really wasn’t surprising- he knew the best lawyers in town, and juries and witnesses would never tell about how Baines had greased their palms, in return for their cooperation. Baines was a powerful man that you went to, to get things done. They said his power lay in his connections- connections that were never proven in a court of law. For all his power, wealth and charm Baines could have had any woman he wanted, but Baines chose a different path. He was gay.
He had gotten the phone call, the Friday beforehand. A female voice just told him to be in the church confessional at ten on Saturday morning. He decided to check it out, there was always deals to be made in his favour, and this might just be one of those deals. He never worried about being whacked by anyone- if someone laid a finger on Baines, that person would be paid a visit by some very unhappy men, that very day. Whacking Clinton Baines was the worst mistake anyone could make.
With a cursory glance towards the altar, he turned left and walked along by the back wall of the church. He went through the door of the confessional and sat down.
“Bless me father, for I have….” He was cut off by the same voice that had been on the phone.
“Enough with the clichés. I have a dossier here for you with instructions. Carry these out and there’s a lot of money in it for you.”
“Who are you?”. There was no reply. In puzzlement, he walked out of the confessional and looked in the priest’s booth. There was nothing there, save for a brown dossier with his name on it.

Baines played a game of golf with his associates at twelve o’ clock that Saturday. It was four thirty by the time he got home to his large pad in Del Cerro. He poured himself a Scotch and sat down to read the mysterious dossier. Typed on a single page were a set of instructions. They read:

Locate Stephanie Montaigne and follow her until she is in such a position that you can sedate her.
Sedate Ms. Montaigne, using the syringe under the driver’s seat of your car.
Take her to 13 Glenhaven Street , where you will receive your payment.

Baines threw down the dossier and rushed out to his car. He felt around, under the driver’s seat and sure enough, he found a syringe with a reddish orange liquid inside, and the needle impaling a rubber stopper. He figured that the mysterious woman must be one smart broad. He smiled. Smart, but no match for him. Besides, the instructions seemed simple enough. They weren’t dissimilar to a job he had done in the past. It’d be easy money- just like the last time. But who the hell was Stephanie Montaigne?
Baines went inside to catch the news at five. It was the same fare as usual- a shootout in Tierrasanta, a pile up on the PCH, a chimp giving birth in the local zoo. The story that really caught his attention though, was that of the San Diego mayor, Robert Montaigne promising increased funding to local schools. It wasn’t the action that set off alarm bells in his head- he hated kids and politics, it was the mayor’s name. He had never paid attention to politics, so it was little wonder he’d heard little of Montaigne. He turned off the TV and made a call on his cell phone.
“Mike, it’s Clint. What’s Mayor Montaigne’s daughters name?”
“I think it’s Stephanie. Why?”
“No reason. Thanks kid, bye.” He put down the receiver and drank his tumbler of whisky dry. He poured himself another. Maybe this job was bigger than he expected.

Baines decided to take a drive over to the second address on the set of instructions. He slowed down as he drove by. There was nothing unusual about the house. It was tidy, well maintained and the lawn was short and greener than usual for the time of year. Whoever lived there must have had the sprinklers on at night. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. He didn’t stop, in case anyone got suspicious. Baines was a professional and he wasn’t about to make a rookie mistake. He sped up again and drove back home.
He took out the phone book and looked under the surname Montaigne. There weren’t many people in the city that spelt their name with a “g”. He scrolled down with his index finger until he reached the only Stephanie Montaigne on the list. He noted down the address in Torrey Highlands. Then he had lunch.
After lunch, he drove to the gas station, and filled the Jag to the brim. He headed over to Torrey Highlands. He passed Stephanie’s house and drove to the end of the street, where he turned around and drove back. Baines parked the car on the opposite side of the street to Steph’s house, a few doors up, so as not to look too suspicious. He reclined the seat and left the engine running for the air-con. It was too hot to be without it. It would have been a long afternoon if it wasn’t for his collection of Johnny Cash CD’s in the auto changer.

Lieutenant Tony McGyver of the San Diego Police Department, taxied the little Cessna 182 out onto the runway at Montgomery Field. He got clearance for take off and gunned the engine of the bird. When he reached the magic speed, he pulled back on the joystick and soared skyward, the angle of as ascent, pinning him back in his seat. It was a weekly thing that Tony did- he owned his own plane. Every Sunday, he would drive to the airfield and escape into the freedom of the abyss above. He usually stuck to the same path- he’d head inland and turn around over Lake Henshaw, before heading back towards the ocean and flying down the coast towards San Diego. The trip usually took a whole afternoon.
Tony was thirty eight. He wasn’t that tall- only five feet eight, but women loved his quiet charm, his blonde hair and his steely, blue eyes. He was single at the moment though. He had noticed this cute babe at the airfield. If she was there today, he was going to go and ask her out. It couldn’t hurt to try.

At five that afternoon, Baines noticed the lime green VW Rabbit convertible nosing out of Stephanie’s garage. He pulled the lever to make his seat sit bolt upright again and started his engine. He turned off the stereo. Only when the VW had reached the end of the street, did Baines pull out of his parking spot and start to follow her. He didn’t want to spook her. She headed for La Fontainebleau restaurant, downtown.
She took a table by the window. There weren’t many in the restaurant yet. Tony waited a few minutes before coming in. No point in acting suspiciously. He chose a table by the window, so as he could look at Stephanie across the room. She was too engrossed in the menu to notice him yet.
Stephanie Montaigne was twenty five. Most men found her big brown eyes and black hair alluring. Her fabulous body was by no means skinny but certainly not plump. She had sensuous curves in all the right places and it drove men wild. Her father hadn’t been there much for her when she was a child and her mother was an alcoholic. Stephanie had learned to be independent from an early age. She lived alone and she treated every man that she brought home like a disposable object. Fashion design was her profession and it paid well. Stephanie had everything she ever wanted and she was living her childhood dream. He flew planes in her spare time. It had started out as just a bit of fun, but it became a regular thing. In the air, she felt like a queen, gazing down upon her earth bound minions.
She never cooked for herself and ate in restaurants every night. Who knew, maybe tonight she’d pick up some other bozo that would show her a good time and give her the satisfaction she desired. Not that she didn’t like the end result, but the art of the seduction was her favourite part of the ritual. She loved to be seduced and she was interested in how different guys approached the solution.
The restaurant was beginning to fill up. Stephanie had ordered crab and Baines, lobster. Their eyes had met a couple of times. Halfway through his lobster, he called the waiter over.
“Could you send a bottle of champagne over to that young lady in the corner?”
The waiter did as he was told. Stephanie wasn’t surprised by the gesture. She knew Baines wanted her and he looked rich- hence the champagne. The waiter poured the drink for her and she raised her glass to Baines across the room. He smiled back.

Tony burst out of the Sun and brought the Cessna down onto the runway, the tyres giving a brief, tortured squeal. He taxied back to the hangar. From the cockpit, he didn’t see the his girl anywhere. “A pity.” he thought. Still, he had a little work to do on the plane. He noticed that the left aileron was sticking a bit. Maybe a little grease would do the job.

Baines had finished his dessert. He stood up and weaved his way through waiters and trolleys over to Stephanie.
“Hi, I’m Clint. Mind if I sit down?”
“Sure, no problem. Thanks for the champagne.”
“My pleasure. It’s not every day I get to give champagne to a lady as beautiful as yourself. Do you mind?” He filled the second glass that the waiter had brought to the table.
“Giving champagne is an expensive business, so personally, I wouldn’t do it every day either.” said Stephanie.
“Well, sometimes it’s worth it.”
“Do you think I’m worth it?”
“To be honest, I think you might be worth two bottles.” Stephanie smiled. Baines called the waiter over and asked for another bottle.
They sat for a while, chatting and drinking the champagne until eventually the second bottle had run dry.
“I don’t care what anyone says. Happiness can be found at the end of a bottle- but only as long as it’s champagne.” Stephanie giggled. She was a little drunk at this stage. Baines called over the waiter and settled both their bills.
“Say, do you want to come back to my place?” Baines asked her. “I’ve got more champagne back home.”
“Hey, I like you, I like champagne. Let’s go.” They left the restaurant and went to Baines’ car.
“I’ll drive you back here to pick up your car.” he told her. They both got into the Jag. Their eyes met and they kissed. There wasn’t time for any passion to develop in the kiss. Baines slipped the cork off the syringe and jabbed it into her neck, driving the plunger down. She hardly knew what hit her- the chemical worked fast and she was out cold.
Baines threw the syringe back under the seat and made a mental note to get rid of it later. He settled Stephanie up in her seat and buckled up her seat belt to make it look like she was sleeping if he was pulled over. He started the car and headed over to the instructed location.
The elegant sedan came to a halt outside 13, Glenhaven Street. Baines got out and opened Stephanie’s door. He lifted her out of the vehicle, and carried her in his arms to the door of the house. He was about to put Stephanie down to knock on the door, when it opened. Before him stood a gorgeous redhead. He thought she was in her early thirties and well dressed in a black designer t-shirt and black knee length skirt. Her skin was pale and unblemished.
“You must be Mr. Baines. Come inside please.” He obeyed.
“Can you bring her down to the basement for me, please. Put her on the chair.” Baines went through a door to the left in the hall.
“Could I get you to turn on the light?“ he asked her. “My hands are a little full.” The redhead leaned around the corner and hit the switch. What Baines saw surprised him. It was recognisably a dungeon. There was a device that he thought might have been a rack. There were pillories and a spanking bench. Chains dangled from the ceiling at various places in the room. Towards the wall to the left, he saw a gallows with a short rope, the platform only a couple of feet from the ground. He had been in rooms where people had been less elaborately tortured. He had never seen a room designed for the very purpose. He was curious as to what certain friends of his could do to people in a room like this.
He carried Stephanie down the stairs and sat her in a tan leather armchair. The leather creaked. The redhead approached him from behind. She handed him an envelope. It felt light.
“You’ve done an excellent job Mr. Baines. I hope that’s to your satisfaction.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be Ms….” The redhead just smiled sweetly.
“Say, do you often have to extract information from guys in here?” he said in a half serious manner.”
“I use this room purely for the purposes of pleasure, Mr. Baines. Some of my friends enjoy me administering my own brand of after dinner entertainment.”
“Interesting choice of entertainment. To each their own, as I’ve always said.”
As he struggled to open the envelope, he wondered if there was a cheque inside. It would be downright stupid to pay for a job like this by cheque. He would have to let his accountant give it a little wash. He took out a folded piece of paper, about the size of a cheque and opened it. Written on it were the words “YOU’RE DEAD”, in clear black marker. Baines looked up. A quiet thud was all he heard as the redhead shot him in the chest with a silenced pistol. He looked down in disbelief, feeling the blood, streaming from his chest. He fell to his knees.
“Yes Mr. Baines, you’ve been very useful indeed.” She gave him a light push with her sandal clad foot and he fell over, his end untimely.

Tony had finished working on the plane. He packed up his few tools and set off home in his red Mazda RX-7. His house wasn’t too far from the field. The drive home took him through mainly residential neighbourhoods. As he drove along Glenhaven Street, he saw the feline profile of a blue Jaguar saloon. It was dark, but he knew that car anywhere. It belonged to his old nemesis Clinton Baines. When his lights caught the registration plate of the car he knew for sure- it read CLINT 1.
About five years ago, Tony had been working a gangland homicide case in which Baines had been the prime suspect. Baines’ DNA had been found on the gun used and he had more motive than most for killing the guy. Tony hated the ways Baines turned up in court, so cocky and self assured. All the evidence pointed to Baines as the killer. He was found not guilty and let go. Anecdotal evidence suggested that, as well as having the “best” lawyers in town, Baines had bribed enough jury members to overthrow his conviction.
Tony had looked into this corruption case. He was determined to nail Baines this time. He got a posse of forensic accountants on the job and they worked solidly for a week and found nothing on Baines. Tony wasn’t convinced. He began to follow Baines in his spare time, hoping to pick him up for the slightest thing.
The Monday after following Baines to a horse race, Tony was called into the chiefs office, to explain the complaint of police harassment brought against him by Baines. Tony was suspended for two months on reduced pay. He became bitter. With the help from some friends in the department, he started looking into a case involving a high class prostitution ring in San Diego. From talking to vice cops, he got a list of involved suspects. In his free time, he followed the some of the suspects and reported their movements to his friends in Vice. He discovered that the hub of the operation was on the top floor of a downtown office building. Having reported his findings to his friends, they let him tag along to see the bust.
What they found, made Tony laugh whenever he thought about it. It was mainly middle aged men, in the middle of fucking barely legal girls fresh off the plane from Eastern Europe- most of them had little or no English. The bit that cracked Tony up though, was the fact that one of the middle aged men was the chief. The next day, the chief was out of a job and Tony had his back. The new chief was a fine man. Jim Lennox had been on the force for years and was the most hard working, honest guy in the business. He knew what life was like on the ground for the ordinary cop and he was a good friend of Tony.
Tony’s bitterness never fully went away. He never lost his grudge against Baines and Jim Lennox knew that.

Stephanie escaped from her slumber and she found herself standing up. She tried to move her hands, but she couldn’t. They were tied behind her back. She tried to look down, only to discover a rope, tied tightly around her neck. Stephanie began to panic. She started jerking her arms to see if she could free herself from the surprisingly soft rope. As she moved her hands, she discovered she could feel something- maybe a knot, rubbing against her pussy. She was frightened but highly aroused. She tried to wriggle the rest of her body, but that too was tied. She felt the pattern of a web of ropes on her skin- ornate and tight. She thought she was naked.
The room she was in was dimly lit. She saw all sorts of bizarre items of furniture around the room. It looked like some kind of dungeon. As if from nowhere, she heard a female voice.
“Ms. Montaigne, I expect you wish to know what’s going on. All in good time. I just want you to know, you’re quite safe. Oh, and don’t worry, that gallows that you’re on is purely for effect- at the moment at least.” A red-haired woman stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a crimson PVC catsuit, with matching thigh length boots.
“My name is Lily De Mille. For the time being, you are in my custody. Your position as the daughter of our city’s most esteemed mayor, means that you provide an excellent bargaining tool in my quest to relieve this fine city of five million dollars. Now, I’ll get you down out of there in just a few minutes, but I’ll need you to keep quiet until I say so.”
Stephanie knew she should have been frightened witless, but in the presence of this woman, she felt strangely calm. The redhead set up a camcorder on a stand in the middle of the room, pointed towards Stephanie. She walked over towards Stephanie carrying a black hood. She stood on the platform of the gallows and loosened the noose around her prisoners neck. They stood face to face. Lily put her hands on Stephanie’s face and softly brushed the hair out of her eyes. They became entranced by each others eyes- Lily’s a deep emerald green and Stephanie’s a an icy blue. The moment was cut short as Lily slipped the black hood over Stephanie’s head, making sure to fit the hood under the noose.
“Don’t worry petal, this won’t take long.” whispered Lily softly. She tightened the noose again. All Stephanie could see was the blackness inside the hood, her only company, her own muffled breathing. Yet, she felt safe in the hands of this gentle mistress. She heard Lily’s voice speaking.
“City of San Diego, before you, you see Stephanie Montaigne, the daughter of your mayor. In order to achieve her safe return, you must deposit five million dollars into the account of “The Seattle Foundation” in the Ansbacher Bank on Grand Cayman. Should you fail to do so within twenty four hours, the trapdoor of Stephanie’s gallows will open and she will strangle to death. Don’t try and buy any time, the timer on the trapdoor cannot be reset. Good day.” Lily turned off the camera and went back over to Stephanie. She opened her noose and took off the hood.
“Don’t worry, that was just for effect.” said Lily as she proceeded to undo the ropes that bound Stephanie’s body. “I’m not going to make you stand here for that long.”
Stephanie’s ropes fell to the floor and Lily took her by the hand and led her so a soft armchair beside a coffee table. The temperature in the basement was warm enough so as clothes were unnecessary. Stephanie felt a shackle being placed around her left ankle and heard the click of a padlock.
“Now, this chain allows you to move relatively freely around the dungeon. There’s a toilet over there behind that plywood wall, should you need it. Firstly though, we should get to know each other. Tea?”
Stephanie nodded. Lily left and returned shortly afterwards with a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.
“I usually have a slave to bring me tea down here, but alas, it’s just us today.”. She placed the tray on the coffee table, within reach of Stephanie.
“You know, I really don’t know why I put this outfit on. It’s quite uncomfortable and sticky. It inhibits my movements somewhat as well.” She turned away from Stephanie, instinctively, as if she had something to hide. She unzipped the red boots and kicked them to the side. Stretching around to her back, she pulled the zipper of the catsuit down, the material making a satisfying sound as she peeled it away from her skin. Stephanie thought that Lily looked good naked, but she was a little perturbed by the tattoo down the centre of her back. It showed a naked girl, hanging by a noose from a tree. Stephanie just hoped that wouldn’t be her. Lily turned around and sat down.
“If I’m correct, you’re just itching to exactly what’s going on. I’m sure you know by now that I intend to extort five million dollars from this city, but I’m sure you’ve got other questions too. Ask away.”
“Who are you and who do you work for?” This was the first time that Stephanie had spoken.
“Two good questions!” said Lily brightly. “Firstly, I work for myself. Actually, it mightn’t surprise you to know that I’m a professional dominatrix. This little extortion plan though, that’s just a little bit of personal entrepreneurship.” She took a sip of her tea. Now, I just told you who I am, but it might interest you to know who I was.
I was born and raised in Seattle. My name used to be Alison Keefe until I changed it. I started working as a journalist. I became so sick of the way cops weren’t able to prosecute slick rich guys. There were murderers and rapists walking the streets and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. I decided to act the vigilante. I killed a couple of high profile dirt bags that had escaped justice on technicalities. I’ve got to hand it to the cops though, they came damn close to catching me. But I got to them first. I killed the ones on my tail- a couple of CSI’s I believe, and I packed up and moved to San Diego. There’s always justice to be dealt everywhere. I came here and changed my name to Arlene Stanton. I opened up my little business in the basement. Mistress Lily’s Dungeon I called it. And well, here we are.” Stephanie sat stony faced.
“Why are you telling me this? If I get away, I could spill all, and why did you have to kill that guy?” she said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor.
“I killed Baines because he was one of those rich guys that the cops couldn’t prosecute. That, and he had served his purpose to me. I’m telling you all this because you asked. Either you’re going to leave here dead, or you’re going to leave alive and never tell a soul. You get to be a good judge of people in my trade.”
Lily stood up and went over to Stephanie. She sat on her lap and looked into her eyes.
“Now, let’s see what a judge of character I am.”
Their lips met. Stephanie didn’t resist, she just returned the passion. It was a breathless affair. This was a taboo that Stephanie had always felt tempted to explore but never did. She just basked in the pleasure of the moment, enjoying every last second. Her hand slipped between Lily’s legs. Lily broke the kiss off and put her finger to Stephanie’s lips.
“Soon, my petal,” she said softly, “I’ve a little job to do first.”

It was one thirty in the morning. Lily opened the garage door from the inside. She walked out to Baines’ Jag and reversed it into the garage- there was enough room for his car and her own denim blue Ford Taurus. She took the Taurus out and drove downtown- there weren’t many people about, at this early hour.
She parked the car a couple of blocks away from Police Headquarters. With the tape in her pocket, she walked the last couple of blocks. She casually tossed the tape into a bush at the front of the building and walked on, doubling back to her car.
Next, she drove a few miles up to a remote spot in Carlton Hills so, if her call was traced, there wouldn’t be anyone in the area to respond quickly to it. She stopped the car at the side of the road and donned a pair of latex gloves that she kept with her. She dialled the number of police headquarters on her cell phone. The call was answered.
“There’s a tape in the bushes outside your building. Go fetch it. It’s urgent.” She hung up and took the SIM card out of the phone and deleted all her information left on the phone’s short term memory. Using a wet wipe, she cleaned any fingerprints that might have been on the phone. She got out of the car and placed the phone under one of the front wheels. She got back in and drove home, crushing the phone as she left.

Delilah Martin received a phone call telling her about a tape left in the bushes out the front of police headquarters. It might have been a hoax, but she couldn’t afford to take that risk. She dropped everything and ran downstairs to check. She looked in a couple of bushes before she found it and ran back in to tell the officer in charge of the night shift.
The officer in charge, Inspector Lou Jones took the elevator down to the tech department in the basement. He gave the tape to the tech girl on duty and asked her to play it. She found a machine suitable for playing it and switched it on. Lily’s message shocked Jones and the tech. Lou picked up the phone on the wall and called upstairs.
“Get the chief in here now. This is an emergency.

Lily got home at two fifteen. Stephanie looked soundly asleep in the armchair, but she opened her eyes as Lily came down the stairs. They smiled at each other.
“You OK?” Lily asked her.
“I’m OK. Say, there was something I meant to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Why all the elaborate rope work when I was tied up? Why not cuff me and use simple shackles for my ankles?”
“I don’t think that’s my style. It feels so artless to me. Besides, I enjoy it- the challenge, the intricacy. I think a web of ropes tied symmetrically around a female body is pure art- it’s certainly beauty. It’s called shibari. It was originally used by Japanese armies to restrain prisoners, but it’s developed a bit since.”
“I think I like being tied up like that. It feels so sexy.”
“Well, we are in a dungeon and that is what I do for a living. I can tie you up again if you want?” Stephanie had the look in her eyes, of an excited child.
“Can we do it on that rack over there?”


Tony was awakened by a phone call at four. Lennox was on the phone. Apparently it was urgent. Blearily, he got out of bed. There was no question of him not showering. Tony was unable to function without having a shower first. He got out of the shower and threw on whatever was the most convenient. He left his Angwin Drive home, his Mazda barrelling along faster than usual. The time he had lost in the shower, he’d make up on the empty streets.
He arrived at HQ and was told to go straight up to the chief’s office. Jim Lennox was sixtyish and balding. A few years off the beat hadn’t been too kind on his waistline. He was a great cop in his day. He’d done undercover work and smashed a couple of drug rings and rose quickly through the ranks. He was hated by some of his fellow officers for his honesty and good nature. Apparently some people thought that it was wrong not to accept graft. His image as an all round good guy that concealed the tough, hardnosed, cynical interior earned him the respect and admiration of impressionable rookie cops, straight out of police academy. Tony was one of those cops.
When he got to the office, Lennox was on the phone.
“Mr. Mayor, I’m putting my best man on the case.” he was saying. “In fact he’s here right now. We’re doing everything we can and I’ll keep you posted. Take care.”
“What’s the matter Jim?” Tony asked.
“Someone is after kidnapping Mayor Montaigne’s daughter Stephanie. They’re demanding five mil as ransom.”
“Smells like the mob to me. Montaigne isn’t well liked among the lawbreaking community- especially La Cosa Nostra.”
“That’s what I thought. Here, take a look at the tape. It was left outside in the bushes.”
“Did we get anything from the cameras out front?”
“No, our messenger was smart. She kept close to the bushes and they obscured the view.”
“She?”
“Yeah, the one shot we did get of her was from behind. It’s definitely a female. The voice on the tape was female too. It could be the same person. Here, take a look.” He viewed it silently and was pensive for a moment.
“Can you get that tape down to tech for me please. I think I hear a buzzing sound in the background that I can’t quite make out. It might be nothing but I’d like them to isolate the sound. Maybe it might tell us something more.”
“Why don’t you take it down yourself? I’m sure it won’t take long.”

Tony took the elevator down to the basement and met the young lab girl with the slightly pointed ears and the cute smile. Her name tag just said her name was Laura.
“Hi Laura, could you do me a favour? There’s a noise on this tape that I’d like you to isolate and play for me. Can you do that?”
“Easy.” she took the tape from him and played it, recording the sound with a microphone attached to her computer.
“I see there’s a constant sound, getting louder as the tape goes on.” she said, pointing to the lines of sound waves appearing on her screen. “Is that the one?”
“ I think so. Can you isolate that and amplify it?” She did so and played the individual sound. A droning sound, getting marginally louder as the tape progressed echoed through the basement. Tony and Laura stood there listening trying to make out the noise. Tony clicked his fingers.
“I know what that sound is!”

“That sound is the engine of a Cessna 182.” he told Lennox. “It sounds like it was flying low and at full power, indicating to me that it was just after taking off. I knew I recognised the pitch.”
“So you think Mayor Montaigne’s daughter could be in captivity near an airport?”
“If that’s a 182, it’s probably a small airport or even field. Maybe Montgomery.”
“You’re really something, you know that Tony? How do you know these things?”
“ I fly a Cessna at the weekend. What were Stephanie Montaigne’s last known movements?”
“We don’t know. We’ve checked her house and her car isn’t in the garage.” The phone on Lennox’ desk rang and Lennox took it.
“Tony, they’ve found her car in the parking lot outside the La Fontainebleau restaurant. I want you to get over there and dig up what you can.”
“I’m on the way.”

Dawn had just broken. It didn’t take Tony long to get over to the restaurant. The green VW was already surrounded by police tape.
“Is there anyone around that was on duty last night?”, Tony asked the cop on duty.
“No lieutenant, everyone’s gone home.” Tony got on his cell phone and rang back to HQ.
“Could you get me the name and number of the owner of the La Fontainebleau restaurant please?” The girl at headquarters told him that the owner was Perry Michaels and she gave Tony the number.
“Mr. Michaels, I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I’m Lt. MacGyver of the San Diego PD. Are you the owner of the La Fontainebleau restaurant?”
“It’s just La Fontainebleau. By saying “the” La Fontainebleau, you’re calling it the the Fontainebleau. But yes, I’m the owner.”
“Great, could you come down immediately? There’s been a burglary and a lot of damage has been done.”
“Oh God! Is it serious?”
“I wouldn’t like to understate the damage, but the term Kristallnacht comes to mind. I suggest you come down and see for yourself.”
“I’ll be there shortly. Thank you lieutenant.”

A dark green, 1970, Rolls Royce convertible pulled up at the crime scene downtown. Perry Michaels looked impeccable for someone that had just rolled out of bed, not twenty five minutes ago. The exterior of the restaurant looked fine to him. Maybe the damage was inside. He found Tony.
“Mr. Michaels, glad you could make it.”
“Where’s the damage? Who did it? How’d they get in?” He was tense and hot and stuttered a little.
“All good, but irrelevant questions. Mr. Michaels, there isn’t any damage, but I do need you to open your restaurant and let me see your CCTV tapes for last night.”
“You got me out of bed for this?!” he screamed. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Mr. Michaels, please. This is a matter of life and death. There’s a young woman being held hostage and this could really help us to find her.”
“Couldn’t you have waited until the morning?”. He was a little calmer now.
“We only have twenty four hours before our her captor kills her. Please Mr. Michaels.”
“Very well then.” He showed Tony into the backroom of the restaurant. Last night’s tape was still in the machine. Michaels rewound it until about five, yesterday afternoon. It kept switching from camera to camera- first, there was a fixed shot of the door to the restaurant, then, about thirty seconds later, the screen would show the cloakroom, then the counter, then the back entrance and finally the parking lot.
As Michaels put the tape on fast forward, Tony saw Stephanie’s green rabbit arrive in the car park and her getting out. Shortly after, he saw a car that intrigued him more- a Jaguar sedan with the license plate CLINT 1. He began to get suspicious. A couple of hours later, he saw Stephanie getting into Baines car with him and through a slightly opaque windscreen, he saw them kiss and Baines jabbing her in the neck with something. Tony stared blankly at the screen. He took out his cell phone and called Lennox.
“Jim, you’re not going to believe it, but I think I know where Stephanie Montaigne is. I saw Clint Baines stab her in the neck and drive off with her in his car.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa Tony, are you sure it was Baines? We don’t want another harassment complaint on our hands.”
“I’m sure Jim. Oh, and I know where Baines was last night after he left the restaurant. I’m going over there on my own to check the place out.”
“No Tony! For the love of God, let me send back up and a SWAT team. You don’t know what you’re up against!”. Lennox’ anguished cries went unheard. Tony had already hung up.
“Nail the bastard this time, Tony” Lennox said to no one in particular.

Stephanie lay back naked on the rack, her hands bound above her head by leather straps and her legs pulled slightly apart. Lily had tightened the screw just a little to put a small amount of tension on Stephanie’s body.
“Now my dear, I believe I felt your hand wandering earlier. You apparently expressed the wish to pleasure me. It would be rude of me to let you do that. You are my guest, and it is up to me to make your stay here as pleasant as I can.” Lily left her there for a moment and returned wearing nothing but a nine inch strap on dildo. Stephanie’s eyes lit up. It always amused Lily to see how people responded, when they were about to be boned by a huge rubber model of a cock. Maybe it was just the knowledge their mistress knew how to do it right. She rubbed a little lube on the dildo and climbed on top of Stephanie’s body.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.” she gasped, pre coital butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Lily began to thrust in and out. She kept fit and didn’t get out of breath easily. This time was no exception. It wasn’t long before Stephanie began to moan, waves of ecstasy emanating through her body. Lily was getting a little wet herself. She thought she was falling for this girl- it was her eyes. They were cold, but deep and beautiful.
Stephanie came with gasps of pleasure and convulsions of her bound, naked body. Lily was happy for her. She would let Stephanie fulfil her own desires later. But not now, not here. She had to be on guard- trouble was afoot.

Tony sped through the awakening city at a speed that was hardly safe. He’d slow down, but not stop for red lights and stop signs, sliding through junctions as he went. His steed was proving its worth. It gripped the road effortlessly. The first angry people, on their way to work honked at him from their SUV’s. He paid no attention. A girl’s life was at stake and he was the only one that could save her.

Lily had unfastened the shackles binding Stephanie’s arms, but not her legs. Stephanie lay on her back looking up at the ceiling.
“Steph,” said Lily in a familiar tone, “Do you know what Lima Syndrome is?”
“I can’t say I do.”
“Are you familiar with the term, Stockholm Syndrome?”
“Sure.”
“Lima Syndrome is like the reciprocal of Stockholm Syndrome. It’s where the captor forms a bond with the captive, instead of the other way around.”
“I see.” said Stephanie, unsure at what Lily was getting at.
“Would you hate me if I told you that I think I’m falling in love with you?” Stephanie was a little taken aback.
“I wouldn’t hate you. You know, I think you’re all right- for someone who wants to kill me.”
“I might have to kill you, but I really don’t want do.”
“Well, don’t then.”
“If you can give me a single good reason not to, I won’t do it.”

Tony tore into the Glenhaven Street and screeched to a halt in front of Lily’s house. He scanned the house. It looked just like every other house in this urban neighbourhood. He got out of the car, his hand poised inside his jacket, ready to draw his gun. He pressed the buzzer.
Lily heard the intercom bell in the basement. She left Stephanie and went to the unit on the wall.
“Who’s there?” she asked sweetly.
“I’m Lieutenant Tony MacGyver of the SDPD. Can I come in please? I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Sure, but I lost my front door key. You’re going to have to go in the back door. The gate at the side is unlocked and so is the back door.”
“Much obliged, thank you.” Lily picked up her own gun and climbed the stairs to the hall. She shut the door behind her. The doorway was recessed and she hid, her back pressed against it, gun in hand.
Tony went carefully around the back of the house, his gun out of its holster, ready to fire. The back door was slightly ajar, and he walked into the kitchen.
“Hello?” he called. Lily stood silently, waiting for him to get closer. The door from the kitchen into the hall was wide open. He was so close, she heard his footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor. Lily pivoted on her left foot, spinning around and pointing the gun straight at Tony. She was too quick. One of the best shooters in the SDPD, was taken by surprise. Lily fired twice, the two bullets hitting Tony in his left arm and shoulder. He collapsed to the ground, his head hitting against the worktop, knocking him out cold.
Lily returned to the dungeon, her gun by her side. Stephanie looked strangely calm as Lily pointed the gun at her head.
“Last chance.” Lily said. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” There were tears welling up in her eyes.
“Because I love you.” said Stephanie. Lily dropped the gun to her side, tears now pouring down her lily white cheeks. She went to kiss Stephanie, but she held a finger to her lips.
“I can fly a plane too. We can escape from here together in my little Cessna.”
“Where is the plane?”
“Montgomery Field. We can be in the air in half an hour from when we get to the field.” Lily wasted no more time with emotion. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and loosened Stephanie’s ankles.
“Get your clothes on. They’re in a pile over there.” As Stephanie dressed, Lily twisted the knob of a wall safe that was hidden behind an old movie poster for House of Whipcord, on the wall. She took out a briefcase and opened the combination lock. Inside was a block of a grey, putty-like substance, about the same size as a small tub of butter, wrapped in clear plastic. There were a couple of timers and a coil of wire in addition to the block, as well as a scalpel. She cut away about three quarters of the block, and attached it to one of the two the propane canisters in the basement, mauling it onto the bottle to ensure adhesion. The other was only a couple of feet away.
Inserting one end of the roll of wire into the putty, she ran the wire out to about three feet, and cut it with the scalpel. She attached the end of the wire to a timer and set it to countdown from twenty minutes.
“What’s that?” Stephanie asked, now fully clothed.
“It’s C4 explosive. I’m going to blow the place up.” Lily said casually. Stephanie seemed nonplussed. Lily carefully put all her explosive equipment back in the briefcase and locked it again. She took several thick wads of cash from the safe. There must have been a quarter of a million dollars there.

Tony came round. He felt the blood oozing from his arm, and he had a racking pain in his head. He tested his legs, and found that they still worked. He clung to the worktop for support. Suddenly, he heard the motor of a garage door come to life and an engine starting. He heard wheel spin as a car sped away. He knew he had to catch it, shot or not.
He staggered uncertainly out to his own car, getting into the low, driver’s seat with difficulty. He didn’t know which way the car went, but instinct told him which way to go. He hit the gas, the engine coming to life in a haze of smoke and noise.
He didn’t stop to consider which way the other car went. At every turn, he sensed which way to go. He scarcely lifted off for corners, the squealing tyres testifying to their torture with the back end stepping out just a little. His arm was pounding. He rounded one particular corner. There, just a hundred yards ahead, he could see the blue Jag. A couple of cars parked near the corner bore the scars of having been hit. The Jag must have been limping, as Tony was quickly gaining on it. Pretty soon he was up on the rear of the car, Lily doing her best to get away.
He pulled alongside in an attempt to force the Jag off the road. He could see a red-haired woman at the wheel. Just as he was bout to execute an offensive manoeuvre, Lily turned suddenly, breaking away from Tony. He tried to take the turn, but he was too late. He had run too wide. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity. He could smell the burning rubber and feel the back end slipping from his grasp. Tony was a good driver, but even he couldn’t recover from this. There was a sickening bang and the toe curling sound of crunching metal as Tony’s Mazda collided with a street lamp. One side of the car lifted off the ground, spinning the vehicle a few yards and taking out a fire hydrant.
He staggered out of the car, having to force the door open. His face was bleeding and he fell to the pavement. Still conscious, he took out his cell phone.
“Jim, Tony here.” His voice was weak and far away and he was about to lose consciousness. “I crashed. They got away. They’re in a blue Jaguar. Send a crew around to 13 Glenhaven Street. I’m sorry Jim.” He felt tired. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Maybe he’d just have a little rest. He dropped the cell phone and lay down on the sidewalk, falling into a deep, deep slumber.

Lily and Stephanie arrived at the airfield, their Jaguar badly bruised. Both their hearts were still hammering in their chests. They got their breaths back and Lily got out of the car. She opened the trunk and the briefcase, wiring the last of the C4 to go off in half an hour.
“Where’s our bird?” she asked Stephanie.
“Follow me.”
There were four or five small planes in the hangar. Stephanie’s was a white 182 with a blue stripe down the side. It looked clean and shiny- then again, there weren’t muddy tracks at fifteen thousand feet. Lily waited while Stephanie carried out all her pre-flight checks. She checked for sediment in the fuel tanks, the level of oil and that all her electrics worked. She always kept her plane fuelled. After quite a few minutes, it was time to go. They taxied onto the runway and the control tower gave them permission for take off.
They rolled down the tarmac, gaining speed and then suddenly they were free from their earthly bondage. They soared higher and higher into the sanctuary that was the deep blue sky.
“Where did you say we were going?” Stephanie shouted over the noise of the engine.
“To Jamaica and freedom.”
“You’re the boss. We’re going to have to stop a couple of times though.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you can handle it. We’ve got enough money to last us a couple of years here.” said Lily
“That’s nice.”
“Look at all those ants down there. It makes you feel kind of powerful, huh?”
“They’re our ants.”
“And we’re their queens.”

Tony woke the next day with tubes coming out of him. The first person he saw was Lennox.
“Hey Tony, you feeling all right.”
“I’ve felt better. Did you get her?”
“We’re dealing with it Tony. You don’t worry about that.”
“For Christ’s sake Jim, tell me! Did you get her or not?” His weak voice was raised.
“No Tony, we didn’t get her.” said Lennox sympathetically.
“Did you get DNA, fingerprints? What about the house? And the car?”
“Tony, the house and the car blew up before we could get to them. There’s no DNA left.”
“Blew up?” asked Tony incredulously.
“She planted bombs in both the house and the car before she left. Her and Montaigne’s daughter are on the run together.” Tony seemed to sink.
“Listen Tony, I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. I’ve got to run. There’ll be a commendation in this for you.” Tony was silent.
He spent the next couple of days mostly alone. There were the doctors and nurses of course. A few friends from the force and an old girlfriend came to see him. Her name was Shelley. He still fancied her. It turned out that she was single again and apparently she wanted to try again with Tony. He agreed to it.
She came by to the hospital every day. They hugged and on the third day, they kissed again. The happy times all came flooding back to him. She seemed to remember the passion too.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Tony.” she told him one day as they gazed into each other’s eyes. But Tony had changed. The Stephanie Montaigne case troubled him deeply. He didn’t like to leave a job unfinished and this was just that- unfinished business. He swore to track down the only people that had ever eluded him. He would do that, whatever it took.

[Horatio Palmer]

This marble hall seems curiously empty.

[Horatio Palmer]

:)

[Venom]

Dragon's Muse had to step down, and Mad Lews jumped into the breach only some days ago, trying to bear the organisation.

[Nikita]

You've not been abandoned. All of us are monitoring the various levels. You've been working diligently at it. Such a dissertation deserves a few days to look over. I'll get back to you soon.

[Mad Lews]

Howdy Horatio,
I'm reading through your piece now. My initial impression is it's ambitious, interesting, and set in an (for you) unfamiliar spot.
My qualms would be the mixture of UK English and American English (pick one I've been told) a tendency toward wordiness, and some interesting uses of prepositions which may be related to the UK English thing.
I'll go through it more thoroughly and post my comments here while you think on how you could tell the same story in 6000 words without losing anything.

Yours
Mad Lews

[Horatio Palmer]

Any help in the fight against wordiness would be appreciated.
Watching so much US TV, I find US English slipping into my work quite a lot. My proximity to the UK means that UK English is bound to slip in there too. I suppose it may have something to do with geography- I don't really know. I'll try and keep it in one or the other.
Regards, HP

[Horatio Palmer]

I appreciate all the fine work that everyone is doing in the midst of such an upheaval.

[H Dean]

I didn't go through this entire story. It was too long to go over in the time I had to do so. Three things, in particular struck me. The first was...Hey, where the fuck are the spaces between the paragraphs? Let's get that spaced a bit better.
The second thing was...this is a long fucking story!

Okay, the first thing is possibly a formatting situation, which means it isn't really your fault. Still, I am gonna blame you and berate you for it.

The second thing I can't really get on you for. I am not even sure if there is a word limit. There should be. But I don't know much about level 1 assignments and I am too lazy to try to figure it out.

Now, on to the third...repetition.

It was the kind of morning that Clinton Baines knew foretold of the heat of the day to come. The sky was cloudless and there was no wind. The sky was the same kind of blue as his sleek Jaguar sedan. As he drove slowly through the neighbourhood near the Horizon Park chapel. He could see kids playing in the gardens with hoses, mothers out jogging on the sidewalks and dogs lying lazily in any shade they could find. It was a typical Saturday, Summer morning in San Diego. He reached the church and he stepped out of the air-conditioned Jag into the morning heat. He didn’t lock his doors- he never did. No one would dream of stealing from Baines.
Clinton Baines was fifty. His hair was black and slick- obviously dyed. His complexion was sallow and swarthy. He knew there was Italian blood in him somewhere. His business card said that he was a private detective and bail bondsman, but those in the know told a different story. They knew that, for a price, they could get Clinton Baines to do anything, regardless of legality. He had been before the courts countless times, but he had never been convicted of a single thing. It really wasn’t surprising- he knew the best lawyers in town, and juries and witnesses would never tell about how Baines had greased their palms, in return for their cooperation. Baines was a powerful man that you went to, to get things done. They said his power lay in his connections- connections that were never proven in a court of law. For all his power, wealth and charm Baines could have had any woman he wanted, but Baines chose a different path. He was gay.

The stuff in red was highly repetitious. The stuff in blue was incorrect usage of the language. Do not use colloquialisms when narating unless the narator is a person in the story. Also, stop starting sentences with the same word all the fucking time - get imaginative. You appeared so concerned with your stylistic method that it kicked you in the ass.

There was more for me to bitch at here but I am nice on Level One. If anyone disagrees that I am nice on Level One I will lash out violently, injuring all who are within range.

[Mad Lews]

It was the kind of morning that Clinton Baines knew foretold of the heat of the day to come. The sky was cloudless and there was no wind. The sky was the same kind of blue as his sleek Jaguar sedan. As he drove slowly through the neighbourhood near the Horizon Park chapel. He could see kids playing in the gardens with hoses, mothers out jogging on the sidewalks and dogs lying lazily in any shade they could find. It was a typical Saturday, Summer morning in San Diego. He reached the church and he stepped out of the air-conditioned Jag into the morning heat. He didn’t lock his doors- he never did. No one would dream of stealing from Baines.

OK this is your opening , where you are trying to hook the reader into plowing through another 14 pages. What are we doing here, we are placing the story in San Diego on a summer morning and introducing Clinton Baines, fair enough.
The first sentence is 19 words and repeats 'of' three times, the next two sentences start with 'The sky was'. This is a problem of style not grammar.
Repetition and redundancy are actually powerful tools when used right but without a driving reason they just seem lazy. Repetition can be used like hammer blows to drive home a point. He was a black hearted bastard,he was born to hang, and tonight he was about to meet his fate. that is how we use repetition with a clear purpose. Also be cautious about alliterative adjectives they tend to be more distractive than informative, unless of course you have a reason.


Clinton Baines was fifty. His hair was black and slick- obviously dyed. His complexion was sallow and swarthy. He knew there was Italian blood in him somewhere. His business card said that he was a private detective and bail bondsman, but those in the know told a different story. They knew that, for a price, they could get Clinton Baines to do anything, regardless of legality. He had been before the courts countless times, but he had never been convicted of a single thing. It really wasn’t surprising- he knew the best lawyers in town, and juries and witnesses would never tell about how Baines had greased their palms, in return for their cooperation. Baines was a powerful man that you went to, to get things done. They said his power lay in his connections- connections that were never proven in a court of law. For all his power, wealth and charm Baines could have had any woman he wanted, but Baines chose a different path. He was gay.

much better but again a little heavy on information that the story may not really need.



He had gotten the phone call, the Friday beforehand. A female voice just told him to be in the church confessional at ten on Saturday morning. He decided to check it out, there was (were)l aways deals to be made in his favour (excessive, of course his deals are in his favor, you could drop that), and this might just be one of those deals. He never worried about being whacked by anyone- if someone laid a finger on Baines, that person would be paid a visit by some very unhappy men, that very day. Whacking Clinton Baines was the worst mistake anyone could make.
With a cursory glance towards the altar, he turned left and walked along by the back wall of the church. He went through the door of the confessional and sat down.
“Bless me father, for I have….” He was cut off by the same voice that had been on the phone.
“Enough with the clichés. I have a dossier here for you with instructions. Carry these out and there’s a lot of money in it for you.”
“Who are you?”. no need for a period outside the quotesThere was no reply. In puzzlement, he walked out of the confessional and looked in the priest’s booth. There was nothing there, save for a brown dossier with his name on it.

Baines played a game of golf with his associates at twelve o’ clock that Saturday. It was four thirty by the time he got home to his large pad in Del Cerro. He poured himself a Scotch and sat down to read the mysterious dossier. You could streamline these for greater efficiency and help the story flow, 'He was back at his Del Cerro pad by four thirty. Pouring himself a Scotch he sat down and read....Typed on a single page were a set of instructions.


They read: separate this with a paragraph break

Locate Stephanie Montaigne and follow her until she is in such a position that you can sedate her.
Sedate Ms. Montaigne, using the syringe under the driver’s seat of your car.
Take her to 13 Glenhaven Street , where you will receive your payment.

Baines threw down the dossier and rushed out to his car. He felt around, under the driver’s seat and sure enough, he found a syringe with a reddish orange liquid inside, and the needle impaling a rubber stopper. He figured that the mysterious woman must be one smart broad. He smiled. Smart, but no match for him. Besides, the instructions seemed simple enough. They weren’t dissimilar to a job he had done in the past. It’d be easy money- just like the last time. But who the hell was Stephanie Montaigne?
Baines went inside to catch the news at five. It was the same fare as usual- a shootout in Tierrasanta, a pile up on the PCH, a chimp giving birth in the local zoo. The story that really caught his attention though, was that of the San Diego mayor, Robert Montaigne promising increased funding to local schools. It wasn’t the action that set off alarm bells in his head- he hated kids and politics, it was the mayor’s name. He had never paid attention to politics, so it was little wonder he’d heard little of Montaigne. He turned off the TV and made a call on his cell phone.
“Mike, it’s Clint. What’s Mayor Montaigne’s daughters name?”
“I think it’s Stephanie. Why?”
“No reason. Thanks kid, bye.” He put down the receiver and drank his tumbler of whisky dry. He poured himself another. Maybe this job was bigger than he expected.

Baines decided to take a drive over to the second address on the set of instructions. He slowed down as he drove by. There was nothing unusual about the house. It was tidy, well maintained and the lawn was short and greener than usual for the time of year. Whoever lived there must have had the sprinklers on at night. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. He didn’t stop, in case anyone got suspicious. Baines was a professional and he wasn’t about to make a rookie mistake. He sped up again and drove back home.
He took out the phone book and looked under the surname Montaigne. There weren’t many people in the city that spelt their name with a “g”. He scrolled down with his index finger until he reached the only Stephanie Montaigne on the list. He noted down the address in Torrey Highlands. Then he had lunch.
After lunch, he drove to the gas station, and filled the Jag to the brim. He headed over to Torrey Highlands. He passed Stephanie’s house and drove to the end of the street, where he turned around and drove back. Baines parked the car on the opposite side of the street to Steph’s house, a few doors up, so as not to look too suspicious. He reclined the seat and left the engine running for the air-con. It was too hot to be without it. It would have been a long afternoon if it wasn’t for his collection of Johnny Cash CD’s in the auto changer.

Lieutenant Tony McGyver of the San Diego Police Department, taxied the little Cessna 182 out onto the runway at Montgomery Field. He got clearance for take off and gunned the engine of the bird. When he reached the magic speed, he pulled back on the joystick and soared skyward, the angle of as ascent, pinning him back in his seat. It was a weekly thing that Tony did- he owned his own plane. Every Sunday, he would drive to the airfield and escape into the freedom of the abyss above. He usually stuck to the same path- he’d head inland and turn around over Lake Henshaw, before heading back towards the ocean and flying down the coast towards San Diego. The trip usually took a whole afternoon.
Tony was thirty eight. He wasn’t that tall- only five feet eight, but women loved his quiet charm, his blonde hair and his steely, blue eyes. He was single at the moment though. He had noticed this cute babe at the airfield. If she was there today, he was going to go and ask her out. It couldn’t hurt to try.

At five that afternoon, Baines noticed the lime green VW Rabbit convertible nosing out of Stephanie’s garage. He pulled the lever to make his seat sit bolt upright again and started his engine. He turned off the stereo. Only when the VW had reached the end of the street, did Baines pull out of his parking spot and start to follow her. He didn’t want to spook her. She headed for La Fontainebleau restaurant, downtown.
She took a table by the window. There weren’t many in the restaurant yet. Tony waited a few minutes before coming in. No (the No point is a clause, use a semi colon to link it to the previous sentence. point in acting suspiciously. He chose a table by the window, so as he could (is a touch awkward 'allowing him to ' might roll off the eyeball easier) look at Stephanie across the room. She was too engrossed in the menu to notice him yet.
Stephanie Montaigne was twenty five. Most men found her big brown eyes and black hair alluring. Her fabulous body was by no means skinny but certainly not plump. She had sensuous curves in all the right places and it drove men wild. Her father hadn’t been there much for her when she was a child and her mother was an alcoholic. Stephanie had learned to be independent from an early age. She lived alone and she treated every man that she brought home like a disposable object. Fashion design was her profession and it paid well. Stephanie had everything she ever wanted and she was living her childhood dream. (S)He flew planes in her spare time. It had started out as just a bit of fun, but it became a regular thing. In the air, she felt like a queen, gazing down upon her earth bound minions.
She never cooked for herself and ate in restaurants every night. Who knew, maybe tonight she’d pick up some other bozo that would show her a good time and give her the satisfaction she desired. Not that she didn’t like the end result, but the art of the seduction was her favourite part of the ritual. She loved to be seduced and she was interested in how different guys approached the solution.( just me but wouldn't they approach the problem and arrive at the solution?)
The restaurant was beginning to fill up. Stephanie had ordered crab and Baines, lobster. Their eyes had met a couple of times. Halfway through his lobster, he called the waiter over.
“Could you send a bottle of champagne over to that young lady in the corner?”
The waiter did as he was told. Stephanie wasn’t surprised by the gesture. She knew Baines wanted her and he looked rich- hence the champagne. The waiter poured the drink for her and she raised her glass to Baines across the room. He smiled back.

Tony burst out of the Sun (God I hope not but the sun can be a small s anyway) and brought the Cessna down onto the runway, the tyres giving a brief, tortured squeal. He taxied back to the hangar. From the cockpit, he didn’t see the his girl anywhere. “A pity.” he thought. Still, he had a little work to do on the plane. He noticed that the left aileron was sticking a bit. Maybe a little grease would do the job.

Baines had finished his dessert. He stood up and weaved his way through waiters and trolleys over to Stephanie.
“Hi, I’m Clint. Mind if I sit down?”
“Sure, no problem. Thanks for the champagne.”
“My pleasure. It’s not every day I get to give champagne to a lady as beautiful as yourself. Do you mind?” He filled the second glass that the waiter had brought to the table.
“Giving champagne is an expensive business, so personally, I wouldn’t do it every day either.” said Stephanie.
“Well, sometimes it’s worth it.”
“Do you think I’m worth it?”
“To be honest, I think you might be worth two bottles.” Stephanie smiled. Baines called the waiter over and asked for another bottle.
They sat for a while, chatting and drinking the champagne until eventually the second bottle had run dry.
“I don’t care what anyone says. Happiness can be found at the end (actually the cliche is at the bottom of a bottle, (or a pint)) of a bottle- but only as long as it’s champagne.” Stephanie giggled. She was a little drunk at this stage. Baines called over the waiter and settled both their bills.
“Say, do you want to come back to my place?” Baines asked her. “I’ve got more champagne back home.”
“Hey, I like you, I like champagne. Let’s go.” They left the restaurant and went to Baines’ car.
“I’ll drive you back here to pick up your car.” he told her. They both got into the Jag. Their eyes met and they kissed. There wasn’t time for any passion to develop in the kiss. Baines slipped the cork off the syringe and jabbed it into her neck, driving the plunger down. She hardly knew what hit her- the chemical worked fast and she was out cold.
Baines threw the syringe back under the seat and made a mental note to get rid of it later. He settled Stephanie up in her seat and buckled up her seat belt to make it look like she was sleeping if he was pulled over. An action scene with a couple ups too close together and a bit of confusion, lets restructure a bit. He set Stephanie upright in her seat and buckled the seatbelt so she would seem asleep if they were pulled overHe started the car and headed over to the instructed location.
The elegant sedan came to a halt outside 13, Glenhaven Street. Baines got out and opened Stephanie’s door. He lifted her out of the vehicle, and carried her in his arms to the door of the house. He was about to put Stephanie down to knock on the door, when it opened. Before him stood a gorgeous redhead. He thought she was in her early thirties and well dressed in a black designer t-shirt and black knee length skirt. Her skin was pale and unblemished.
“You must be Mr. Baines. Come inside please.” He obeyed.
“Can you bring her down to the basement for me, please. Put her on the chair.” Baines went through a door to the left in the hall.
“Could I get you to turn on the light?“ he asked her. “My hands are a little full.” The redhead leaned around the corner and hit the switch. What Baines saw surprised him. It was recognisably a dungeon. There was a device that he thought might have been a rack. There were pillories and a spanking bench. Chains dangled from the ceiling at various places in the room. Towards the wall to the left, he saw a gallows with a short rope, the platform only a couple of feet from the ground. He had been in rooms where people had been less elaborately tortured. He had never seen a room designed for the very purpose. He was curious as to what certain friends of his could do to people in a room like this.
He carried Stephanie down the stairs and sat her in a tan leather armchair. The leather creaked. The redhead approached him from behind. She handed him an envelope. It felt light.
“You’ve done an excellent job Mr. Baines. I hope that’s to your satisfaction.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be Ms….” The redhead just smiled sweetly.
“Say, do you often have to extract information from guys in here?” he said in a half serious manner.”
“I use this room purely for the purposes of pleasure, Mr. Baines. Some of my friends enjoy me administering my own brand of after dinner entertainment.”
“Interesting choice of entertainment. To each their own, as I’ve always said.”
As he struggled to open the envelope, he wondered if there was a cheque inside. It would be downright stupid to pay for a job like this by cheque. He would have to let his accountant give it a little wash. He took out a folded piece of paper, about the size of a cheque and opened it. Written on it were the words “YOU’RE DEAD”, in clear black marker. Baines looked up. A quiet thud was all he heard as the redhead shot him in the chest with a silenced pistol. Just as a professional courtesy here A shot to the chest without the knockdown power of a large caliber is asking for trouble, better by far two taps to the head with a small caliber that will bounce about inside the skull He looked down in disbelief, feeling the blood, streaming from his chest. He fell to his knees.
“Yes Mr. Baines, you’ve been very useful indeed.” She gave him a light push with her sandal clad foot and he fell over, his end untimely.

Tony had finished working on the plane. He packed up his few tools and set off home in his red Mazda RX-7. His house wasn’t too far from the field. The drive home took him through mainly residential neighbourhoods. As he drove along Glenhaven Street, he saw the feline profile of a blue Jaguar saloon. It was dark, but he knew that car anywhere. It belonged to his old nemesis Clinton Baines. When his lights caught the registration plate of the car he knew for sure- it read CLINT 1.
About five years ago, Tony had been working a gangland homicide case in which Baines had been the prime suspect. Baines’ DNA had been found on the gun used and he had more motive than most for killing the guy. Tony hated the ways Baines turned up in court, so cocky and self assured. All the evidence pointed to Baines as the killer. He was found not guilty and let go. Anecdotal evidence suggested that, as well as having the “best” lawyers in town, Baines had bribed enough jury members to overthrow his conviction ( probably prevent his conviction, to overturn or overthrow one he would have had to be convicted first..
Tony had looked into this corruption case. He was determined to nail Baines this time. He got a posse of forensic accountants on the job and they worked solidly for a week and found nothing on Baines. Tony wasn’t convinced. He began to follow Baines in his spare time, hoping to pick him up for the slightest thing.
The Monday after following Baines to a horse race, ( OK we need a comma to understand what you mean or maybe its That Monday instead of the Monday...Tony was called into the chiefs office, to explain the complaint of police harassment brought against him by Baines. Tony was suspended for two months on reduced pay. He became bitter. With the help from some friends in the department, he started looking into a case involving a high class prostitution ring in San Diego. From talking to vice cops, he got a list of involved suspects. In his free time, he followed the some of the suspects and reported their movements to his friends in Vice. He discovered that the hub of the operation was on the top floor of a downtown office building. Having reported his findings to his friends, they let him tag along to see the bust.
What they found, made Tony laugh whenever he thought about it. It was mainly middle aged men, in the middle of fucking barely legal girls fresh off the plane from Eastern Europe- most of them had little or no English. The bit that cracked Tony up though, was the fact that one of the middle aged men was the chief. The next day, the chief was out of a job and Tony had his back. The new chief was a fine man. Jim Lennox had been on the force for years and was the most hard working, honest guy in the business. He knew what life was like on the ground for the ordinary cop and he was a good friend of Tony.
Tony’s bitterness never fully went away. He never lost his grudge against Baines and Jim Lennox knew that.

Stephanie escaped from her slumber and she found herself standing up. (An awkward visual we are being put in here, escaped may not be the best word choice) She tried to move her hands, but she couldn’t. They were tied behind her back. She tried to look down, only to discover a rope, tied tightly around her neck. Stephanie began to panic. She started jerking her arms to see if she could free herself from the surprisingly soft rope. As she moved her hands, she discovered she could feel something- maybe a knot, rubbing against her pussy. She was frightened but highly aroused. She tried to wriggle the rest of her body, but that too was tied. She felt the pattern of a web of ropes on her skin- ornate and tight. She thought she was naked.
The room she was in was dimly lit. She saw all sorts of bizarre items of furniture around the room. It looked like some kind of dungeon. As if from nowhere, she heard a female voice.
“Ms. Montaigne, I expect you wish to know what’s going on. All in good time. I just want you to know, you’re quite safe. Oh, and don’t worry, that gallows that you’re on is purely for effect- at the moment at least.” A red-haired woman stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a crimson PVC catsuit, with matching thigh length boots.
“My name is Lily De Mille. For the time being, you are in my custody. Your position as the daughter of our city’s most esteemed mayor, means that you provide an excellent bargaining tool in my quest to relieve this fine city of five million dollars. Now, I’ll get you down out of there in just a few minutes, but I’ll need you to keep quiet until I say so.”
Stephanie knew she should have been frightened witless, but in the presence of this woman, she felt strangely calm. The redhead set up a camcorder on a stand in the middle of the room, pointed towards Stephanie. She walked over towards Stephanie carrying a black hood. She stood on the platform of the gallows and loosened the noose around her prisoners neck. They stood face to face. Lily put her hands on Stephanie’s face and softly brushed the hair out of her eyes. They became entranced by each others eyes- Lily’s a deep emerald green and Stephanie’s a an icy blue. The moment was cut short as Lily slipped the black hood over Stephanie’s head, making sure to fit the hood under the noose. just an aside on my part, Why would you put a hood on your famous hostage that you are filming for a ransom demand? wouldn't that make it harder to authenticate that you had the Mayor's daughter?
“Don’t worry petal, this won’t take long.” whispered Lily softly. She tightened the noose again. All Stephanie could see was the blackness inside the hood, her only company, her own muffled breathing. Yet, she felt safe in the hands of this gentle mistress. She heard Lily’s voice speaking.
“City of San Diego, before you, you see Stephanie Montaigne, the daughter of your mayor. In order to achieve her safe return, you must deposit five million dollars into the account of “The Seattle Foundation” in the Ansbacher Bank on Grand Cayman. Should you fail to do so within twenty four hours, the trapdoor of Stephanie’s gallows will open and she will strangle to death. Don’t try and buy any time, the timer on the trapdoor cannot be reset. Good day.” Lily turned off the camera and went back over to Stephanie. She opened her noose and took off the hood.
“Don’t worry, that was just for effect.” said Lily as she proceeded to undo the ropes that bound Stephanie’s body. “I’m not going to make you stand here for that long.”
Stephanie’s ropes fell to the floor and Lily took her by the hand and led her so a soft armchair beside a coffee table. The temperature in the basement was warm enough so as clothes were unnecessary. Stephanie felt a shackle being placed around her left ankle and heard the click of a padlock.
“Now, this chain allows you to move relatively freely around the dungeon. There’s a toilet over there behind that plywood wall, should you need it. Firstly though, we should get to know each other. Tea?”
Stephanie nodded. Lily left and returned shortly afterwards with a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.
“I usually have a slave to bring me tea down here, but alas, it’s just us today.”. She placed the tray on the coffee table, within reach of Stephanie.
“You know, I really don’t know why I put this outfit on. It’s quite uncomfortable and sticky. It inhibits my movements somewhat as well.” She turned away from Stephanie, instinctively, as if she had something to hide. She unzipped the red boots and kicked them to the side. Stretching around to her back, she pulled the zipper of the catsuit down, the material making a satisfying sound as she peeled it away from her skin. Stephanie thought that Lily looked good naked, but she was a little perturbed by the tattoo down the centre of her back. It showed a naked girl, hanging by a noose from a tree. Stephanie just hoped that wouldn’t be her. Lily turned around and sat down.
“If I’m correct, you’re just itching to exactly what’s going on. I’m sure you know by now that I intend to extort five million dollars from this city, but I’m sure you’ve got other questions too. Ask away.”
“Who are you and who do you work for?” This was the first time that Stephanie had spoken.
“Two good questions!” said Lily brightly. “Firstly (might be a UK thing but the US Domme would say "First off", I work for myself. Actually, it mightn’t surprise you to know that I’m a professional dominatrix. This little extortion plan though, that’s just a little bit of personal entrepreneurship.” She took a sip of her tea. Now, I just told you who I am, but it might interest you to know who I was.
I was born and raised in Seattle. My name used to be Alison Keefe until I changed it. I started working as a journalist. I became so sick of the way cops weren’t able to prosecute slick rich guys. There were murderers and rapists walking the streets and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. I decided to act the vigilante. I killed a couple of high profile dirt bags that had escaped justice on technicalities. I’ve got to hand it to the cops though, they came damn close to catching me. But I got to them first. I killed the ones on my tail- a couple of CSI’s I believe, and I packed up and moved to San Diego. There’s always justice to be dealt everywhere. I came here and changed my name to Arlene Stanton. I opened up my little business in the basement. Mistress Lily’s Dungeon I called it. And well, here we are.” Stephanie sat stony faced.
“Why are you telling me this? If I get away, I could spill all, and why did you have to kill that guy?” she said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor.
“I killed Baines because he was one of those rich guys that the cops couldn’t prosecute. That, and he had served his purpose to me. I’m telling you all this because you asked. Either you’re going to leave here dead, or you’re going to leave alive and never tell a soul. You get to be a good judge of people in my trade.”
Lily stood up and went over to Stephanie. She sat on her lap and looked into her eyes.
“Now, let’s see what a judge of character I am.”
Their lips met. Stephanie didn’t resist, she just returned the passion. It was a breathless affair. This was a taboo that Stephanie had always felt tempted to explore but never did. She just basked in the pleasure of the moment, enjoying every last second. Her hand slipped between Lily’s legs. Lily broke the kiss off and put her finger to Stephanie’s lips.
“Soon, my petal,” she said softly, “I’ve a little job to do first.”

It was one thirty in the morning. Lily opened the garage door from the inside. She walked out to Baines’ Jag and reversed it into the garage- there was enough room for his car and her own denim blue Ford Taurus. She took the Taurus out and drove downtown- there weren’t many people about, at this early hour.
She parked the car a couple of blocks away from Police Headquarters. With the tape in her pocket, she walked the last couple of blocks. She casually tossed the tape into a bush at the front of the building and walked on, doubling back to her car.
Next, she drove a few miles up to a remote spot in Carlton Hills so, if her call was traced, there wouldn’t be anyone in the area to respond quickly to it. She stopped the car at the side of the road and donned a pair of latex gloves that she kept with her. She dialled the number of police headquarters on her cell phone. The call was answered.
“There’s a tape in the bushes outside your building. Go fetch it. It’s urgent.” She hung up and took the SIM card out of the phone and deleted all her information left on the phone’s short term memory. Using a wet wipe, she cleaned any fingerprints that might have been on the phone. She got out of the car and placed the phone under one of the front wheels. She got back in and drove home, crushing the phone as she left.

Delilah Martin received a phone call telling her about a tape left in the bushes out the front of police headquarters. It might have been a hoax, but she couldn’t afford to take that risk. She dropped everything and ran downstairs to check. She looked in a couple of bushes before she found it and ran back in to tell the officer in charge of the night shift.
The officer in charge, Inspector Lou Jones took the elevator down to the tech department in the basement. He gave the tape to the tech girl on duty and asked her to play it. She found a machine suitable for playing it and switched it on. Lily’s message shocked Jones and the tech. Lou picked up the phone on the wall and called upstairs.
“Get the chief in here now. This is an emergency.

Lily got home at two fifteen. Stephanie looked soundly asleep in the armchair, but she opened her eyes as Lily came down the stairs. They smiled at each other.
“You OK?” Lily asked her.
“I’m OK. Say, there was something I meant to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Why all the elaborate rope work when I was tied up? Why not cuff me and use simple shackles for my ankles?”
“I don’t think that’s my style. It feels so artless to me. Besides, I enjoy it- the challenge, the intricacy. I think a web of ropes tied symmetrically around a female body is pure art- it’s certainly beauty. It’s called shibari. It was originally used by Japanese armies to restrain prisoners, but it’s developed a bit since.”
“I think I like being tied up like that. It feels so sexy.”
“Well, we are in a dungeon and that is what I do for a living. I can tie you up again if you want?” Stephanie had the look in her eyes, of an excited child.
“Can we do it on that rack over there?”


Tony was awakened by a phone call at four. Lennox was on the phone. Apparently it was urgent. Blearily, he got out of bed. There was no question of him not showering. Tony was unable to function without having a shower first. He got out of the shower and threw on whatever was the most convenient. He left his Angwin Drive home, his Mazda barrelling along faster than usual. The time he had lost in the shower, he’d make up on the empty streets.
He arrived at HQ and was told to go straight up to the chief’s office. Jim Lennox was sixtyish and balding. A few years off the beat hadn’t been too kind on his waistline. He was a great cop in his day. He’d done undercover work and smashed a couple of drug rings and rose quickly through the ranks. He was hated by some of his fellow officers for his honesty and good nature. Apparently some people thought that it was wrong not to accept graft. His image as an all round good guy that concealed the tough, hardnosed, cynical interior earned him the respect and admiration of impressionable rookie cops, straight out of police academy. Tony was one of those cops.
When he got to the office, Lennox was on the phone.
“Mr. Mayor, I’m putting my best man on the case.” he was saying. “In fact he’s here right now. We’re doing everything we can and I’ll keep you posted. Take care.”
“What’s the matter Jim?” Tony asked.
“Someone is after kidnapping Mayor Montaigne’s daughter Stephanie. They’re demanding five mil as ransom.”
“Smells like the mob to me. Montaigne isn’t well liked among the lawbreaking community- especially La Cosa Nostra.”
“That’s what I thought. Here, take a look at the tape. It was left outside in the bushes.”
“Did we get anything from the cameras out front?”
“No, our messenger was smart. She kept close to the bushes and they obscured the view.”
“She?”
“Yeah, the one shot we did get of her was from behind. It’s definitely a female. The voice on the tape was female too. It could be the same person. Here, take a look.” He viewed it silently and was pensive for a moment.
“Can you get that tape down to tech for me please. I think I hear a buzzing sound in the background that I can’t quite make out. It might be nothing but I’d like them to isolate the sound. Maybe it might tell us something more.”
“Why don’t you take it down yourself? I’m sure it won’t take long.”

Tony took the elevator down to the basement and met the young lab girl with the slightly pointed ears and the cute smile. Her name tag just said her name was Laura.
“Hi Laura, could you do me a favour? There’s a noise on this tape that I’d like you to isolate and play for me. Can you do that?”
“Easy.” she took the tape from him and played it, recording the sound with a microphone attached to her computer.
“I see there’s a constant sound, getting louder as the tape goes on.” she said, pointing to the lines of sound waves appearing on her screen. “Is that the one?”
“ I think so. Can you isolate that and amplify it?” She did so and played the individual sound. A droning sound, getting marginally louder as the tape progressed echoed through the basement. Tony and Laura stood there listening trying to make out the noise. Tony clicked his fingers.
“I know what that sound is!”

“That sound is the engine of a Cessna 182.” he told Lennox. “It sounds like it was flying low and at full power, indicating to me that it was just after taking off. I knew I recognised the pitch.”
“So you think Mayor Montaigne’s daughter could be in captivity near an airport?”
“If that’s a 182, it’s probably a small airport or even field. Maybe Montgomery.”
“You’re really something, you know that Tony? How do you know these things?”
“ I fly a Cessna at (on) the weekend. What were Stephanie Montaigne’s last known movements?”
“We don’t know. We’ve checked her house and her car isn’t in the garage.” The phone on Lennox’ desk rang and Lennox took it.
“Tony, they’ve found her car in the parking lot outside the La Fontainebleau restaurant. I want you to get over there and dig up what you can.”
“I’m on the way.”

Enough for now I hope, I don't want to overwhelm you, you've done a good job and put some thought and effort into the assignment. Keep t up with the new instructor :cool:

Not to be pickin' on thee Horatio,
Just to toughen you for when Aussie girl gets her mitts on you.:)

As I said before an ambitious work and interesting. I would ask you to rethink the intro. Maybe introduce Clinton by his own deeds rather than telling us what he's like, then I'd have you trim a little fat, If I were your level one instructor I'd give you a hard word limit to tell the exact same story in, say 4000 words. That way you would need to organize and tighten your thoughts and the story would flow like the action piece it is.

You've got it in you.

Best of Luck,

Mad Lews

[theladystouch]

There was more for me to bitch at here but I am nice on Level One. If anyone disagrees that I am nice on Level One I will lash out violently, injuring all who are within range.

Okay, so come on over to Level II and lash out at me. :hubba:

I've got an assignment over there, all finished and ready to be ripped to shreds, and nobody wants to play with me. :278:

{Oh, wait. I'm a Domme. What the hell am I doing, inviting H Dean to eviscerate me?} :dontfeedm

[H Dean]

You are only a domme in your life - here, you are fodder for the picking. The nit-picking, that is.

Level Three...that is my domain, and you shall be subjugated to horrors of unspeakable nature. Dean has spoken and the thunder has rolled!

[Nikita]

Horatio,

I agree with Mad and Dean. They went into more detail, technically and viscerally. Generally, my feedback deals with the story itself.

You need a hook at the beginning. The first paragraph can be tightened up by half.

The description of Baines is a great character study. Use it to visualize the character and keep it handy. All of it doesn't have to be stated in one place in it's entirety.

The plot start begins at the right place. Keep in mind the theme all of us have stated, streamline the sentences and reduce repetition. Something to keep in mind for the next piece is to just write your story without editing along the way. You can beef it up with descriptions, etc during editing.

The description of McGyver taking off in his Cessna, as it is written, boggles me. What is the purpose of this paragraph? His description in the last two lines of that paragraph are ok.

Stephanie's introduction appears to be late in the story, but, you still can make it work. Put her characterization near the first mention of Baines' sighting of her. This part is irrelevant here, but it could be later on in the story. "She never cooked for herself and ate in restaurants every night."

Then Tony and his Cessna show up again. Where did they land? Is it the same place where the story McGyver and Stephanie takes place?

The delivery of Stephanie could use some descriptions, specifically of the house, the woman, etc. However, the surprise killing was great. NOW you got my attention.

Finally, I see a connection between Tony and Baines. Hmmm... I wonder if that hint could have appeared earlier in the story. Great back story on Tony and the connection with Baines. Perhaps a little more feel of this characterization of Baines could be inserted at the beginning.

The story got my interest by the middle. This is a good story and the beginning should give a taste or at least match the pace of the rest of it. I'm going to stop here for now. Like Mad I don't want to overwhelm you.

[Horatio Palmer]

Hi H Dean, i think that paragraph thing must be something to do with formatting problems. Thanks for pointing out the problem with starting each sentence with the same words. It's a thing i need and want to stop.

Regards, HP

[Horatio Palmer]

Hi Mad Lews, that advice is really helpful. I'll get working on it as soon as i can. Some of the factual errors and goofs that you pointed out were quite interesting. A friend of mine would probably have pointed out the gun thing, because he seems to know an awful lot about them. Wierd considering that handguns are illegal here. Anyhoo, thanks. It'll give me something to do.

Regards, HP

[Horatio Palmer]

Nikita, as far as I can remember, the airplane thing was originally going to have a much bigger part in the plot, but then I changed my mind. Yes, the airfield is the same one as where the McGyver/ Stephanie story takes place. Thanks for the advice. I'll get working on amendments and changes as soon as I can.

Regards, HP

[Nikita]

One last thing before you post it again, read it aloud. Promise. :)

[Horatio Palmer]

Sorry about the delay, but I've been away for a little while. Here's the first half or so, of the story again. How's the second half?

It was the kind of morning that Clinton Baines knew foretold the heat of the day to come. The sky was cloudless and the same kind of blue as his sleek Jaguar sedan. There was no wind. As he drove slowly through the neighbourhood near the Horizon Park chapel. He could see kids playing in the gardens with hoses, mothers out jogging on the sidewalks and dogs lying lazily in any shade they could find. It was a typical weekend, Summer morning in San Diego. He reached the church and he stepped out of the air-conditioned Jaguar into the morning heat. He didn’t lock his doors- he never did. No one would dream of stealing from Baines.

He had gotten the phone call, the Friday beforehand. A female voice just told him to be in the church confessional at ten on Saturday morning. He decided to check it out. There were always deals to be made. He never worried about being whacked by anyone- if someone laid a finger on Baines, that person would be paid a visit by some very unhappy men, that very day. Whacking Clinton Baines was the worst mistake anyone could make.
With a cursory glance towards the altar, he turned left and walked along by the back wall of the church. He went through the door of the confessional and sat down.
“Bless me father, for I have….” He was cut off by the same voice that had been on the phone.
“Enough with the clichés. I have a dossier here for you with instructions. Carry these out and there’s a lot of money in it for you.”
“Who are you?” There was no reply. In puzzlement, he walked out of the confessional and looked in the priest’s booth. There was nothing there, save for a brown dossier with his name on it.

Baines played a game of golf with his associates at twelve o’ clock that Saturday. He was back at his Del Cerro pad by four thirty. Pouring himself a Scotch, he sat down to read the mysterious dossier. Typed on a single page were a set of instructions.

1. Locate Stephanie Montaigne and follow her until she is in such a position that you can sedate her.
2. Sedate Ms. Montaigne, using the syringe under the driver’s seat of your car.
3. Take her to 13 Glenhaven Street , where you will receive your payment.

Baines threw down the dossier and rushed out to his car. He felt around, under the driver’s seat and sure enough, he found a syringe with a reddish orange liquid inside, and the needle impaling a rubber stopper. He figured that the mysterious woman must be one smart broad. He smiled. Smart, but no match for him. Besides, the instructions seemed simple enough. They weren’t dissimilar to a job he had done in the past. It’d be easy money- just like the last time. But who the hell was Stephanie Montaigne?
Baines went inside to catch the news at five. It was the same fare as usual- a shootout in Tierrasanta, a pile up on the PCH, a chimp giving birth in the local zoo. The story that really caught his attention though, was that of the San Diego mayor, Robert Montaigne promising increased funding to local schools. It wasn’t the action that set off alarm bells in his head- he hated kids and politics, it was the mayor’s name. He had never paid attention to politics, so it was little wonder he’d heard little of Montaigne. He turned off the TV and made a call on his cell phone.
“Mike, it’s Clint. What’s Mayor Montaigne’s daughters name?”
“I think it’s Stephanie. Why?”
“No reason. Thanks kid, bye.” He put down the receiver and drank his tumbler of whisky dry. He poured himself another. Maybe this job was bigger than he expected.

Baines decided to take a drive over to the second address on the set of instructions. He slowed down as he drove by. There was nothing unusual about the house. It was tidy, well maintained and the lawn was short and greener than usual for the time of year. Whoever lived there must have had the sprinklers on at night. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. He didn’t stop, in case anyone got suspicious. Baines was a professional and he wasn’t about to make a rookie mistake. He sped up again and drove back home.
He took out the phone book and looked under the surname Montaigne. There weren’t many people in the city that spelt their name with a “g”. He scrolled down with his index finger until he reached the only Stephanie Montaigne on the list. He noted down the address in Torrey Highlands. Then he had lunch.
After lunch, he drove to the gas station, and filled the Jag to the brim. He headed over to Torrey Highlands. He passed Stephanie’s house and drove to the end of the street, where he turned around and drove back. Baines parked the car on the opposite side of the street to Steph’s house, a few doors up, so as not to look too suspicious. He reclined the seat and left the engine running for the air-con. It was too hot to be without it. It would have been a long afternoon if it wasn’t for his collection of Johnny Cash CD’s in the auto changer.

Lieutenant Tony McGyver of the San Diego Police Department, taxied the little Cessna 182 out onto the runway at Montgomery Field. He got clearance for take off and gunned the engine of the bird. When he reached the magic speed, he pulled back on the joystick and soared skyward, the angle of as ascent, pinning him back in his seat. It was a weekly thing that Tony did- he owned his own plane. Every Sunday, he would drive to the airfield and escape into the freedom of the abyss above. He usually stuck to the same path- he’d head inland and turn around over Lake Henshaw, before heading back towards the ocean and flying down the coast towards San Diego. The trip usually took a whole afternoon.
Tony was thirty eight. He wasn’t that tall- only five feet eight, but women loved his quiet charm, his blonde hair and his steely, blue eyes. He was single at the moment though. He had noticed this cute babe at the airfield. If she was there today, he was going to go and ask her out. It couldn’t hurt to try.

At five that afternoon, Baines noticed the lime green VW Rabbit convertible nosing out of Stephanie’s garage. He pulled the lever to make his seat sit bolt upright again and started his engine. He turned off the stereo. Only when the VW had reached the end of the street, did Baines pull out of his parking spot and start to follow her. He didn’t want to spook her. She headed for La Fontainebleau restaurant, downtown.
She took a table by the window. There weren’t many in the restaurant yet. Tony waited a few minutes before coming in; no point in acting suspiciously. He chose a table by the window, allowing him to look at Stephanie across the room. She was too engrossed in the menu to notice him yet.
Stephanie Montaigne was twenty five. Most men found her big brown eyes and black hair alluring. Her fabulous body was by no means skinny but certainly not plump. She had sensuous curves in all the right places and it drove men wild. Her father hadn’t been there much for her when she was a child and her mother was an alcoholic. Stephanie had learned to be independent from an early age. She lived alone and she treated every man that she brought home like a disposable object. Fashion design was her profession and it paid well. Stephanie had everything she ever wanted and she was living her childhood dream. She flew planes in her spare time. It had started out as just a bit of fun, but it became a regular thing. In the air, she felt like a queen, gazing down upon her earth bound minions.
She never cooked for herself and ate in restaurants every night. Who knew, maybe tonight she’d pick up some other bozo that would show her a good time and give her the satisfaction she desired. Not that she didn’t like the end result, but the art of the seduction was her favourite part of the ritual. She loved to be seduced and she was interested in how different guys approached the problem.
The restaurant was beginning to fill up. Stephanie had ordered crab and Baines, lobster. Their eyes had met a couple of times. Halfway through his lobster, he called the waiter over.
“Could you send a bottle of champagne over to that young lady in the corner?”
The waiter did as he was told. Stephanie wasn’t surprised by the gesture. She knew Baines wanted her and he looked rich- hence the champagne. The waiter poured the drink for her and she raised her glass to Baines across the room. He smiled back.

Tony burst out of the Sun and brought the Cessna down onto the runway, the tyres giving a brief, tortured squeal. He taxied back to the hangar. From the cockpit, he didn’t see the girl anywhere. “A pity.” he thought. Still, he had a little work to do on the plane. He noticed that the left aileron was sticking a bit. Maybe a little grease would do the job.

Baines had finished his dessert. He stood up and weaved his way through waiters and trolleys over to Stephanie.
“Hi, I’m Clint. Mind if I sit down?”
“Sure, no problem. Thanks for the champagne.”
“My pleasure. It’s not every day I get to give champagne to a lady as beautiful as yourself. Do you mind?” He filled the second glass that the waiter had brought to the table.
“Giving champagne is an expensive business, so personally, I wouldn’t do it every day either.” said Stephanie.
“Well, sometimes it’s worth it.”
“Do you think I’m worth it?”
“To be honest, I think you might be worth two bottles.” Stephanie smiled. Baines called the waiter over and asked for another bottle.
They sat for a while, chatting and drinking the champagne until eventually the second bottle had run dry.
“I don’t care what anyone says. Happiness can be found at the bottom of a bottle- but only as long as it’s champagne.” Stephanie giggled. She was a little drunk at this stage. Baines called over the waiter and settled both their bills.
“Say, do you want to come back to my place?” Baines asked her. “I’ve got more champagne back home.”
“Hey, I like you, I like champagne. Let’s go.” They left the restaurant and went to Baines’ car.
“I’ll drive you back here to pick up your car.” he told her. They both got into the Jag. Their eyes met and they kissed. There wasn’t time for any passion to develop in the kiss. Baines slipped the cork off the syringe and jabbed it into her neck, driving the plunger down. She hardly knew what hit her- the chemical worked fast and she was out cold.
Baines threw the syringe back under the seat and made a mental note to get rid of it later. He set Stephanie upright in her seat and buckled the seatbelt so she would seem asleep if they were pulled over. He started the car and headed over to the instructed location.
The elegant sedan came to a halt outside 13, Glenhaven Street. Baines got out and opened Stephanie’s door. He lifted her out of the vehicle, and carried her in his arms to the door of the house. He was about to put Stephanie down to knock on the door, when it opened. Before him stood a gorgeous redhead. He thought she was in her early thirties and well dressed in a black designer t-shirt and black knee length skirt. Her skin was pale and unblemished.
“You must be Mr. Baines. Come inside please.” He obeyed.
“Can you bring her down to the basement for me, please. Put her on the chair.” Baines went through a door to the left in the hall.
“Could I get you to turn on the light?“ he asked her. “My hands are a little full.” The redhead leaned around the corner and hit the switch. What Baines saw surprised him. It was recognisably a dungeon. There was a device that he thought might have been a rack. There were pillories and a spanking bench. Chains dangled from the ceiling at various places in the room. Towards the wall to the left, he saw a gallows with a short rope, the platform only a couple of feet from the ground. He had been in rooms where people had been less elaborately tortured. He had never seen a room designed for the very purpose. He was curious as to what certain friends of his could do to people in a room like this.
He carried Stephanie down the stairs and sat her in a tan leather armchair. The leather creaked. The redhead approached him from behind. She handed him an envelope. It felt light.
“You’ve done an excellent job Mr. Baines. I hope that’s to your satisfaction.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be Ms….” The redhead just smiled sweetly.
“Say, do you often have to extract information from guys in here?” he said in a half serious manner.”
“I use this room purely for the purposes of pleasure, Mr. Baines. Some of my friends enjoy me administering my own brand of after dinner entertainment.”
“Interesting choice of entertainment. To each their own, as I’ve always said.”
As he struggled to open the envelope, he wondered if there was a cheque inside. It would be downright stupid to pay for a job like this by cheque. He would have to let his accountant give it a little wash. He took out a folded piece of paper, about the size of a cheque and opened it. Written on it were the words “YOU’RE DEAD”, in clear black marker. Baines looked up. A quiet thud was all he heard as the redhead shot him twice in the head with a silenced pistol. He fell to his knees.
“Yes Mr. Baines, you’ve been very useful indeed.” She gave him a light push with her sandal clad foot and he fell over, his end untimely.

Tony had finished working on the plane. He packed up his few tools and set off home in his red Mazda RX-7. His house wasn’t too far from the field. The drive home took him through mainly residential neighbourhoods. As he drove along Glenhaven Street, he saw the feline profile of a blue Jaguar saloon. It was dark, but he knew that car anywhere. It belonged to his old nemesis Clinton Baines. When his lights caught the registration plate of the car he knew for sure- it read CLINT 1.
About five years ago, Tony had been working a gangland homicide case in which Baines had been the prime suspect. Baines’ DNA had been found on the gun used and he had more motive than most for killing the guy. Tony hated the ways Baines turned up in court, so cocky and self assured. All the evidence pointed to Baines as the killer. He was found not guilty and let go. Anecdotal evidence suggested that, as well as having the “best” lawyers in town, Baines had bribed enough jury members to prevent his conviction.
Tony had looked into this corruption case. He was determined to nail Baines this time. He got a posse of forensic accountants on the job and they worked solidly for a week and found nothing on Baines. Tony wasn’t convinced. He began to follow Baines in his spare time, hoping to pick him up for the slightest thing.
The Monday after following Baines to a horse race, Tony was called into the chiefs office, to explain the complaint of police harassment brought against him by Baines. Tony was suspended for two months on reduced pay. He became bitter. With the help from some friends in the department, he started looking into a case involving a high class prostitution ring in San Diego. From talking to vice cops, he got a list of involved suspects. In his free time, he followed the some of the suspects and reported their movements to his friends in Vice. He discovered that the hub of the operation was on the top floor of a downtown office building. Having reported his findings to his friends, they let him tag along to see the bust.
What they found, made Tony laugh whenever he thought about it. It was mainly middle aged men, in the middle of fucking barely legal girls fresh off the plane from Eastern Europe- most of them had little or no English. The bit that cracked Tony up though, was the fact that one of the middle aged men was the chief. The next day, the chief was out of a job and Tony had his back. The new chief was a fine man. Jim Lennox had been on the force for years and was the most hard working, honest guy in the business. He knew what life was like on the ground for the ordinary cop and he was a good friend of Tony.
Tony’s bitterness never fully went away. He never lost his grudge against Baines and Jim Lennox knew that.

Stephanie awoke from her slumber and she found herself standing up. She tried to move her hands, but she couldn’t. They were tied behind her back. She tried to look down, only to discover a rope, tied tightly around her neck. Stephanie began to panic. She started jerking her arms to see if she could free herself from the surprisingly soft rope. As she moved her hands, she discovered she could feel something- maybe a knot, rubbing against her pussy. She was frightened but highly aroused. She tried to wriggle the rest of her body, but that too was tied. She felt the pattern of a web of ropes on her skin- ornate and tight. She thought she was naked.
The room she was in was dimly lit. She saw all sorts of bizarre items of furniture around the room. It looked like some kind of dungeon. As if from nowhere, she heard a female voice.
“Ms. Montaigne, I expect you wish to know what’s going on. All in good time. I just want you to know, you’re quite safe. Oh, and don’t worry, that gallows that you’re on is purely for effect- at the moment at least.” A red-haired woman stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a crimson PVC catsuit, with matching thigh length boots.
“My name is Lily De Mille. For the time being, you are in my custody. Your position as the daughter of our city’s most esteemed mayor, means that you provide an excellent bargaining tool in my quest to relieve this fine city of five million dollars. Now, I’ll get you down out of there in just a few minutes, but I’ll need you to keep quiet until I say so.”
Stephanie knew she should have been frightened witless, but in the presence of this woman, she felt strangely calm. The redhead set up a camcorder on a stand in the middle of the room, pointed towards Stephanie. She walked over towards Stephanie carrying a ball gag and a narrow strip of cloth. The two ladies stood face to face. Lily put her hands on Stephanie’s face and softly brushed the hair out of her eyes. They became entranced by each others eyes- Lily’s a deep emerald green and Stephanie’s a an icy blue. The moment was cut short as Lily slipped the black strip of cloth over Stephanie’s eyes, tying a knot to secure her blindfold. She made Stephanie open her mouth, and inserted the red ball, tightening the clasp around the back of her head.
“Don’t worry petal, this won’t take long.” whispered Lily softly. She tightened the noose again. All Stephanie could see was the blackness inside the blindfold. She hated the vile taste of rubber in her mouth. Yet, she felt safe in the hands of this gentle mistress. She heard Lily’s voice speaking.
“City of San Diego, before you, you see Stephanie Montaigne, the daughter of your mayor. In order to achieve her safe return, you must deposit five million dollars into the account of “The Seattle Foundation” in the Ansbacher Bank on Grand Cayman. Should you fail to do so within twenty four hours, the trapdoor of Stephanie’s gallows will open and she will strangle to death. Don’t try and buy any time, the timer on the trapdoor cannot be reset. Good day.” Lily turned off the camera and went back over to Stephanie. She opened her gag and took of the blindfold.
“Don’t worry, that was just for effect.” said Lily as she proceeded to undo the ropes that bound Stephanie’s body. “I’m not going to make you stand here for that long.”
Stephanie’s ropes fell to the floor and Lily took her by the hand and led her so a soft armchair beside a coffee table. The temperature in the basement was warm enough so as clothes were unnecessary. Stephanie felt a shackle being placed around her left ankle and heard the click of a padlock.
“Now, this chain allows you to move relatively freely around the dungeon. There’s a toilet over there behind that plywood wall, should you need it. Firstly though, we should get to know each other. Tea?”
Stephanie nodded. Lily left and returned shortly afterwards with a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.
“I usually have a slave to bring me tea down here, but alas, it’s just us today.”. She placed the tray on the coffee table, within reach of Stephanie.
“You know, I really don’t know why I put this outfit on. It’s quite uncomfortable and sticky. It inhibits my movements somewhat as well.” She turned away from Stephanie, instinctively, as if she had something to hide. She unzipped the red boots and kicked them to the side. Stretching around to her back, she pulled the zipper of the catsuit down, the material making a satisfying sound as she peeled it away from her skin. Stephanie thought that Lily looked good naked, but she was a little perturbed by the tattoo down the centre of her back. It showed a naked girl, hanging by a noose from a tree. Stephanie just hoped that wouldn’t be her. Lily turned around and sat down.
“If I’m correct, you’re just itching to know exactly what’s going on. I’m sure you know by now that I intend to extort five million dollars from this city, but I’m sure you’ve got other questions too. Ask away.”
“Who are you and who do you work for?” This was the first time that Stephanie had spoken.
“Two good questions!” said Lily brightly. “First off, I work for myself. Actually, it mightn’t surprise you to know that I’m a professional dominatrix. This little extortion plan though, that’s just a little bit of personal entrepreneurship.” She took a sip of her tea. Now, I just told you who I am, but it might interest you to know who I was.
I was born and raised in Seattle. My name used to be Alison Keefe until I changed it. I started working as a journalist. I became so sick of the way cops weren’t able to prosecute slick rich guys. There were murderers and rapists walking the streets and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. I decided to act the vigilante. I killed a couple of high profile dirt bags that had escaped justice on technicalities. I’ve got to hand it to the cops though, they came damn close to catching me. But I got to them first. I killed the ones on my tail- a couple of CSI’s I believe, and I packed up and moved to San Diego. There’s always justice to be dealt everywhere. I came here and changed my name to Arlene Stanton. I opened up my little business in the basement. Mistress Lily’s Dungeon I called it. And well, here we are.” Stephanie sat stony faced.
“Why are you telling me this? If I get away, I could spill all, and why did you have to kill that guy?” she said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor.
“I killed Baines because he was one of those rich guys that the cops couldn’t prosecute. That, and he had served his purpose to me. I’m telling you all this because you asked. Either you’re going to leave here dead, or you’re going to leave alive and never tell a soul. You get to be a good judge of people in my trade.”
Lily stood up and went over to Stephanie. She sat on her lap and looked into her eyes.
“Now, let’s see what a judge of character I am.”
Their lips met. Stephanie didn’t resist, she just returned the passion. It was a breathless affair. This was a taboo that Stephanie had always felt tempted to explore but never did. She just basked in the pleasure of the moment, enjoying every last second. Her hand slipped between Lily’s legs. Lily broke the kiss off and put her finger to Stephanie’s lips.
“Soon, my petal,” she said softly, “I’ve a little job to do first.”

It was one thirty in the morning. Lily opened the garage door from the inside. She walked out to Baines’ Jag and reversed it into the garage- there was enough room for his car and her own denim blue Ford Taurus. She took the Taurus out and drove downtown- there weren’t many people about, at this early hour.
She parked the car a couple of blocks away from Police Headquarters. With the tape in her pocket, she walked the last couple of blocks. She casually tossed the tape into a bush at the front of the building and walked on, doubling back to her car.
Next, she drove a few miles up to a remote spot in Carlton Hills so, if her call was traced, there wouldn’t be anyone in the area to respond quickly to it. She stopped the car at the side of the road and donned a pair of latex gloves that she kept with her. She dialled the number of police headquarters on her cell phone. The call was answered.
“There’s a tape in the bushes outside your building. Go fetch it. It’s urgent.” She hung up and took the SIM card out of the phone and deleted all her information left on the phone’s short term memory. Using a wet wipe, she cleaned any fingerprints that might have been on the phone. She got out of the car and placed the phone under one of the front wheels. She got back in and drove home, crushing the phone as she left.

Delilah Martin received a phone call telling her about a tape left in the bushes out the front of police headquarters. It might have been a hoax, but she couldn’t afford to take that risk. She dropped everything and ran downstairs to check. She looked in a couple of bushes before she found it and ran back in to tell the officer in charge of the night shift.
The officer in charge, Inspector Lou Jones took the elevator down to the tech department in the basement. He gave the tape to the tech girl on duty and asked her to play it. She found a machine suitable for playing it and switched it on. Lily’s message shocked Jones and the tech. Lou picked up the phone on the wall and called upstairs.
“Get the chief in here now. This is an emergency.

Lily got home at two fifteen. Stephanie looked soundly asleep in the armchair, but she opened her eyes as Lily came down the stairs. They smiled at each other.
“You OK?” Lily asked her.
“I’m OK. Say, there was something I meant to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Why all the elaborate rope work when I was tied up? Why not cuff me and use simple shackles for my ankles?”
“I don’t think that’s my style. It feels so artless to me. Besides, I enjoy it- the challenge, the intricacy. I think a web of ropes tied symmetrically around a female body is pure art- it’s certainly beauty. It’s called shibari. It was originally used by Japanese armies to restrain prisoners, but it’s developed a bit since.”
“I think I like being tied up like that. It feels so sexy.”
“Well, we are in a dungeon and that is what I do for a living. I can tie you up again if you want?” Stephanie had the look in her eyes, of an excited child.
“Can we do it on that rack over there?”


Tony was awakened by a phone call at four. Lennox was on the phone. Apparently it was urgent. Blearily, he got out of bed. There was no question of him not showering. Tony was unable to function without having a shower first. He got out of the shower and threw on whatever was the most convenient. He left his Angwin Drive home, his Mazda barrelling along faster than usual. The time he had lost in the shower, he’d make up on the empty streets.
He arrived at HQ and was told to go straight up to the chief’s office. Jim Lennox was sixtyish and balding. A few years off the beat hadn’t been too kind on his waistline. He was a great cop in his day. He’d done undercover work and smashed a couple of drug rings and rose quickly through the ranks. He was hated by some of his fellow officers for his honesty and good nature. Apparently some people thought that it was wrong not to accept graft. His image as an all round good guy that concealed the tough, hardnosed, cynical interior earned him the respect and admiration of impressionable rookie cops, straight out of police academy. Tony was one of those cops.
When he got to the office, Lennox was on the phone.
“Mr. Mayor, I’m putting my best man on the case.” he was saying. “In fact he’s here right now. We’re doing everything we can and I’ll keep you posted. Take care.”
“What’s the matter Jim?” Tony asked.
“Someone has kidnapped Mayor Montaigne’s daughter Stephanie. They’re demanding five mil as ransom.”
“Smells like the mob to me. Montaigne isn’t well liked among the lawbreaking community- especially La Cosa Nostra.”
“That’s what I thought. Here, take a look at the tape. It was left outside in the bushes.”
“Did we get anything from the cameras out front?”
“No, our messenger was smart. She kept close to the bushes and they obscured the view.”
“She?”
“Yeah, the one shot we did get of her was from behind. It’s definitely a female. The voice on the tape was female too. It could be the same person. Here, take a look.” He viewed it silently and was pensive for a moment.
“Can you get that tape down to tech for me please. I think I hear a buzzing sound in the background that I can’t quite make out. It might be nothing but I’d like them to isolate the sound. Maybe it might tell us something more.”
“Why don’t you take it down yourself? I’m sure it won’t take long.”

Tony took the elevator down to the basement and met the young lab girl with the slightly pointed ears and the cute smile. Her name tag just said her name was Laura.
“Hi Laura, could you do me a favour? There’s a noise on this tape that I’d like you to isolate and play for me. Can you do that?”
“Easy.” she took the tape from him and played it, recording the sound with a microphone attached to her computer.
“I see there’s a constant sound, getting louder as the tape goes on.” she said, pointing to the lines of sound waves appearing on her screen. “Is that the one?”
“ I think so. Can you isolate that and amplify it?” She did so and played the individual sound. A droning sound, getting marginally louder as the tape progressed echoed through the basement. Tony and Laura stood there listening trying to make out the noise. Tony clicked his fingers.
“I know what that sound is!”

“That sound is the engine of a Cessna 182.” he told Lennox. “It sounds like it was flying low and at full power, indicating to me that it was just after taking off. I knew I recognised the pitch.”
“So you think Mayor Montaigne’s daughter could be in captivity near an airport?”
“If that’s a 182, it’s probably a small airport or even field. Maybe Montgomery.”
“You’re really something, you know that Tony? How do you know these things?”
“ I fly a Cessna on the weekend. What were Stephanie Montaigne’s last known movements?”
“We don’t know. We’ve checked her house and her car isn’t in the garage.” The phone on Lennox’ desk rang and Lennox took it.
“Tony, they’ve found her car in the parking lot outside the La Fontainebleau restaurant. I want you to get over there and dig up what you can.”
“I’m on the way.”

[Mad Lews]

Have noted the missive and will get right on it.
You might consider a little more brevity in your assignments and save the heavy verbage for submissions ;)

[Mad Lews]

It was the kind of morning that Clinton Baines knew foretold the heat of the day to come. The sky was cloudless and the same kind of blue as his sleek Jaguar sedan. There was no wind. As he (wind, as he) drove slowly through the neighbourhood near the Horizon Park chapel. He could see kids playing in the gardens with hoses, mothers out jogging on the sidewalks and dogs lying lazily in any shade they could find. It was a typical weekend, S(s)ummer morning in San Diego. He reached the church and he stepped out of the air-conditioned Jaguar into the morning heat. He didn’t lock his doors- he never did. No one would dream of stealing from Baines.


She took a table by the window. There weren’t many(tables? if you mean people say so) in the restaurant yet. Tony waited a few minutes before coming in; no point in acting suspiciously. He chose a table by the window, allowing him to look at Stephanie across the room. She was too engrossed in the menu to notice him yet.

A quiet thud was all he heard as the redhead shot him twice in the head with a silenced pistol. He fell to his knees. Unlikely he would hear anything, ' flash of the silenced muzzle was the last thing he saw...' might work better
“Yes Mr. Baines, you’ve been very useful indeed.” She gave him a light push with her sandal clad foot and he fell over, his end untimely (just seems weirdly out of place, maybe few would mourn his untimely demise.

Tony had finished working on the plane. He packed up his few tools and set off home in his red Mazda RX-7. His house wasn’t too far from the field. The drive home took him through mainly residential neighbourhoods. As he drove along Glenhaven Street, he saw the feline profile of a blue Jaguar saloon. It was dark, but he knew (he would know)that car anywhere.

Stephanie awoke from her slumber and she found herself standing up. She tried to move her hands, but she couldn’t. They were tied behind her back. She tried to look down, only to discover a rope, tied tightly around her neck. Stephanie began to panic. She started jerking her arms to see if she could free herself from the surprisingly soft rope. As she moved her hands, she discovered she could feel something- maybe a knot, rubbing against her pussy. She was frightened but highly aroused. She tried to wriggle the rest of her body, but that too was tied. She felt the pattern of a web of ropes on her skin- ornate and tight ( its just me being old fashion here, use of - as punctuation can be confusing do you mean skin-ornate which makes no sense or ...skin; ornate and tight. reconstructing the sentence could work too -felt the ornate pattern of the tight web of rope- . She thought she was naked.

“City of San Diego, before you, you see (Yup some people would speak that way, others would say ...you see before you...) Stephanie Montaigne, the daughter of your mayor.

The temperature in the basement was warm enough so as (that, or 'as to make and drop were) clothes were unnecessary. Stephanie felt a shackle being placed around her left ankle and heard the click of a padlock.
“Now, this chain allows you to move relatively freely around the dungeon. There’s a toilet over there behind that plywood wall, should you need it. Firstly though, we should get to know each other. Tea?”
Stephanie nodded. Lily left and returned shortly afterwards with a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar. We're slipping back into British charm here, a sugestion, why not make the Mistress a British ex-pat from Seattle? then you wouldn't have to fuss about the vernacular

the material making a satisfying sound ( be specific let the reader really hear it, a satisfying shlucking sound?) as she peeled it away from her skin.

I was born and raised in Seattle (see above suggestion) . My name used to be Alison Keefe until I changed it. I started working as a journalist. I became so sick of the way cops weren’t able to prosecute slick rich guys. There were murderers and rapists walking the streets and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. I decided to act the vigilante. I killed a couple of high profile dirt bags that had escaped justice on technicalities. I’ve got to hand it to the cops though, they came damn close to catching me. But I got to them first. I killed the ones on my tail- a couple of CSI’s I believe, and I packed up and moved to San Diego. There’s always justice to be dealt everywhere. I came here and changed my name to Arlene Stanton. I opened up my little business in the basement. Mistress Lily’s Dungeon I called it. And well, here we are.” Stephanie sat stony faced..(a vigilante who has no problem killing a couple cops? That's a bit out of character and you'd need to explain the motivation beyond escape, why does she go after 'bad guys'? and how can she justify killing 'good guys? Having killed some cops the police would pull out all the plugs and go after her full bore, FBI would be on her tail big time.)

Their lips met. Stephanie didn’t resist, she just returned the passion. It was a breathless affair unless you're after a double entendre chose another word . This was a taboo that Stephanie had always felt tempted to explore but never did. She just basked in the pleasure of the moment, enjoying every last second. Her hand slipped between Lily’s legs. Lily broke the kiss off and put her finger to Stephanie’s lips.
“Soon, my petal,” she said softly, “I’ve a little job to do first.”



You've done a fine job and probably a bit excessive for a simple writing assignment. I think you might want to finish polishing it and submit it here or elsewhere. You live in a world wide web where the standard for English is US it's not fair but hey, what is? Fortunately the MS word program and others allows you to select your dictionary which could help with US spellings otherwise stick to your proud British traditions all the way through the story.

Yours
Mad Lews

[Horatio Palmer]

This story was meant to be a sort of continuation from my first assignment, in which Alison Keefe (Mistress Lily) first appears in Seattle. Her motivations are explained in that, as well as how she escaped, just in case you were wondering. Thanks for yet more advice. It's really very helpful.

[Horatio Palmer]

It was the kind of morning that Clinton Baines knew foretold the heat of the day to come. The sky was cloudless and the same kind of blue as his sleek Jaguar sedan. There was no wind. As he drove slowly through the neighbourhood near the Horizon Park chapel, he could see kids playing in the gardens with hoses, mothers out jogging on the sidewalks and dogs lying lazily in any shade they could find. It was a typical weekend, summer morning in San Diego. He reached the church and he stepped out of the air-conditioned Jaguar into the morning heat. He didn’t lock his doors- he never did. No one would dream of stealing from Baines.

He had gotten the phone call, the Friday beforehand. A female voice just told him to be in the church confessional at ten on Saturday morning. He decided to check it out. There were always deals to be made. He never worried about being whacked by anyone- if someone laid a finger on Baines, that person would be paid a visit by some very unhappy men, that very day. Whacking Clinton Baines was the worst mistake anyone could make.
With a cursory glance towards the altar, he turned left and walked along by the back wall of the church. He went through the door of the confessional and sat down.
“Bless me father, for I have….” He was cut off by the same voice that had been on the phone.
“Enough with the clichés. I have a dossier here for you with instructions. Carry these out and there’s a lot of money in it for you.”
“Who are you?” There was no reply. In puzzlement, he walked out of the confessional and looked in the priest’s booth. There was nothing there, save for a brown dossier with his name on it.

Baines played a game of golf with his associates at twelve o’ clock that Saturday. He was back at his Del Cerro pad by four thirty. Pouring himself a Scotch, he sat down to read the mysterious dossier. Typed on a single page were a set of instructions.

1. Locate Stephanie Montaigne and follow her until she is in such a position that you can sedate her.
2. Sedate Ms. Montaigne, using the syringe under the driver’s seat of your car.
3. Take her to 13 Glenhaven Street , where you will receive your payment.

Baines threw down the dossier and rushed out to his car. He felt around, under the driver’s seat and sure enough, he found a syringe with a reddish orange liquid inside, and the needle impaling a rubber stopper. He figured that the mysterious woman must be one smart broad. He smiled. Smart, but no match for him. Besides, the instructions seemed simple enough. They weren’t dissimilar to a job he had done in the past. It’d be easy money- just like the last time. But who the hell was Stephanie Montaigne?
Baines went inside to catch the news at five. It was the same fare as usual- a shootout in Tierrasanta, a pile up on the PCH, a chimp giving birth in the local zoo. The story that really caught his attention though, was that of the San Diego mayor, Robert Montaigne promising increased funding to local schools. It wasn’t the action that set off alarm bells in his head- he hated kids and politics, it was the mayor’s name. He had never paid attention to politics, so it was little wonder he’d heard little of Montaigne. He turned off the TV and made a call on his cell phone.
“Mike, it’s Clint. What’s Mayor Montaigne’s daughters name?”
“I think it’s Stephanie. Why?”
“No reason. Thanks kid, bye.” He put down the receiver and drank his tumbler of whisky dry. He poured himself another. Maybe this job was bigger than he expected.

Baines decided to take a drive over to the second address on the set of instructions. He slowed down as he drove by. There was nothing unusual about the house. It was tidy, well maintained and the lawn was short and greener than usual for the time of year. Whoever lived there must have had the sprinklers on at night. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. He didn’t stop, in case anyone got suspicious. Baines was a professional and he wasn’t about to make a rookie mistake. He sped up again and drove back home.
He took out the phone book and looked under the surname Montaigne. There weren’t many people in the city that spelt their name with a “g”. He scrolled down with his index finger until he reached the only Stephanie Montaigne on the list. He noted down the address in Torrey Highlands. Then he had lunch.
After lunch, he drove to the gas station, and filled the Jag to the brim. He headed over to Torrey Highlands. He passed Stephanie’s house and drove to the end of the street, where he turned around and drove back. Baines parked the car on the opposite side of the street to Steph’s house, a few doors up, so as not to look too suspicious. He reclined the seat and left the engine running for the air-con. It was too hot to be without it. It would have been a long afternoon if it wasn’t for his collection of Johnny Cash CD’s in the auto changer.

Lieutenant Tony McGyver of the San Diego Police Department, taxied the little Cessna 182 out onto the runway at Montgomery Field. He got clearance for take off and gunned the engine of the bird. When he reached the magic speed, he pulled back on the joystick and soared skyward, the angle of as ascent, pinning him back in his seat. It was a weekly thing that Tony did- he owned his own plane. Every Sunday, he would drive to the airfield and escape into the freedom of the abyss above. He usually stuck to the same path- he’d head inland and turn around over Lake Henshaw, before heading back towards the ocean and flying down the coast towards San Diego. The trip usually took a whole afternoon.
Tony was thirty eight. He wasn’t that tall- only five feet eight, but women loved his quiet charm, his blonde hair and his steely, blue eyes. He was single at the moment though. He had noticed this cute babe at the airfield. If she was there today, he was going to go and ask her out. It couldn’t hurt to try.

At five that afternoon, Baines noticed the lime green VW Rabbit convertible nosing out of Stephanie’s garage. He pulled the lever to make his seat sit bolt upright again and started his engine. He turned off the stereo. Only when the VW had reached the end of the street, did Baines pull out of his parking spot and start to follow her. He didn’t want to spook her. She headed for La Fontainebleau restaurant, downtown.
She took a table by the window. There weren’t many people in the restaurant yet. Tony waited a few minutes before coming in; no point in acting suspiciously. He chose a table by the window, allowing him to look at Stephanie across the room. She was too engrossed in the menu to notice him yet.
Stephanie Montaigne was twenty five. Most men found her big brown eyes and black hair alluring. Her fabulous body was by no means skinny but certainly not plump. She had sensuous curves in all the right places and it drove men wild. Her father hadn’t been there much for her when she was a child and her mother was an alcoholic. Stephanie had learned to be independent from an early age. She lived alone and she treated every man that she brought home like a disposable object. Fashion design was her profession and it paid well. Stephanie had everything she ever wanted and she was living her childhood dream. She flew planes in her spare time. It had started out as just a bit of fun, but it became a regular thing. In the air, she felt like a queen, gazing down upon her earth bound minions.
She never cooked for herself and ate in restaurants every night. Who knew, maybe tonight she’d pick up some other bozo that would show her a good time and give her the satisfaction she desired. Not that she didn’t like the end result, but the art of the seduction was her favourite part of the ritual. She loved to be seduced and she was interested in how different guys approached the problem.
The restaurant was beginning to fill up. Stephanie had ordered crab and Baines, lobster. Their eyes had met a couple of times. Halfway through his lobster, he called the waiter over.
“Could you send a bottle of champagne over to that young lady in the corner?”
The waiter did as he was told. Stephanie wasn’t surprised by the gesture. She knew Baines wanted her and he looked rich- hence the champagne. The waiter poured the drink for her and she raised her glass to Baines across the room. He smiled back.

Tony burst out of the Sun and brought the Cessna down onto the runway, the tyres giving a brief, tortured squeal. He taxied back to the hangar. From the cockpit, he didn’t see the girl anywhere. “A pity.” he thought. Still, he had a little work to do on the plane. He noticed that the left aileron was sticking a bit. Maybe a little grease would do the job.

Baines had finished his dessert. He stood up and weaved his way through waiters and trolleys over to Stephanie.
“Hi, I’m Clint. Mind if I sit down?”
“Sure, no problem. Thanks for the champagne.”
“My pleasure. It’s not every day I get to give champagne to a lady as beautiful as yourself. Do you mind?” He filled the second glass that the waiter had brought to the table.
“Giving champagne is an expensive business, so personally, I wouldn’t do it every day either.” said Stephanie.
“Well, sometimes it’s worth it.”
“Do you think I’m worth it?”
“To be honest, I think you might be worth two bottles.” Stephanie smiled. Baines called the waiter over and asked for another bottle.
They sat for a while, chatting and drinking the champagne until eventually the second bottle had run dry.
“I don’t care what anyone says. Happiness can be found at the bottom of a bottle- but only as long as it’s champagne.” Stephanie giggled. She was a little drunk at this stage. Baines called over the waiter and settled both their bills.
“Say, do you want to come back to my place?” Baines asked her. “I’ve got more champagne back home.”
“Hey, I like you, I like champagne. Let’s go.” They left the restaurant and went to Baines’ car.
“I’ll drive you back here to pick up your car.” he told her. They both got into the Jag. Their eyes met and they kissed. There wasn’t time for any passion to develop in the kiss. Baines slipped the cork off the syringe and jabbed it into her neck, driving the plunger down. She hardly knew what hit her- the chemical worked fast and she was out cold.
Baines threw the syringe back under the seat and made a mental note to get rid of it later. He set Stephanie upright in her seat and buckled the seatbelt so she would seem asleep if they were pulled over. He started the car and headed over to the instructed location.
The elegant sedan came to a halt outside 13, Glenhaven Street. Baines got out and opened Stephanie’s door. He lifted her out of the vehicle, and carried her in his arms to the door of the house. He was about to put Stephanie down to knock on the door, when it opened. Before him stood a gorgeous redhead. He thought she was in her early thirties and well dressed in a black designer t-shirt and black knee length skirt. Her skin was pale and unblemished.
“You must be Mr. Baines. Come inside please.” He obeyed.
“Can you bring her down to the basement for me, please. Put her on the chair.” Baines went through a door to the left in the hall.
“Could I get you to turn on the light?“ he asked her. “My hands are a little full.” The redhead leaned around the corner and hit the switch. What Baines saw surprised him. It was recognisably a dungeon. There was a device that he thought might have been a rack. There were pillories and a spanking bench. Chains dangled from the ceiling at various places in the room. Towards the wall to the left, he saw a gallows with a short rope, the platform only a couple of feet from the ground. He had been in rooms where people had been less elaborately tortured. He had never seen a room designed for the very purpose. He was curious as to what certain friends of his could do to people in a room like this.
He carried Stephanie down the stairs and sat her in a tan leather armchair. The leather creaked. The redhead approached him from behind. She handed him an envelope. It felt light.
“You’ve done an excellent job Mr. Baines. I hope that’s to your satisfaction.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be Ms….” The redhead just smiled sweetly.
“Say, do you often have to extract information from guys in here?” he said in a half serious manner.”
“I use this room purely for the purposes of pleasure, Mr. Baines. Some of my friends enjoy me administering my own brand of after dinner entertainment.”
“Interesting choice of entertainment. To each their own, as I’ve always said.”
As he struggled to open the envelope, he wondered if there was a cheque inside. It would be downright stupid to pay for a job like this by cheque. He would have to let his accountant give it a little wash. He took out a folded piece of paper, about the size of a cheque and opened it. Written on it were the words “YOU’RE DEAD”, in clear black marker. Baines looked up. The flash of a silenced muzzle was the last thing he saw. He fell to his knees.
“Yes Mr. Baines, you’ve been very useful indeed.” She gave him a light push with her sandal clad foot and he fell over, his end untimely.

Tony had finished working on the plane. He packed up his few tools and set off home in his red Mazda RX-7. His house wasn’t too far from the field. The drive home took him through mainly residential neighbourhoods. As he drove along Glenhaven Street, he saw the feline profile of a blue Jaguar saloon. It was dark, but he would know that car anywhere. It belonged to his old nemesis Clinton Baines. When his lights caught the registration plate of the car he knew for sure- it read CLINT 1.
About five years ago, Tony had been working a gangland homicide case in which Baines had been the prime suspect. Baines’ DNA had been found on the gun used and he had more motive than most for killing the guy. Tony hated the ways Baines turned up in court, so cocky and self assured. All the evidence pointed to Baines as the killer. He was found not guilty and let go. Anecdotal evidence suggested that, as well as having the “best” lawyers in town, Baines had bribed enough jury members to prevent his conviction.
Tony had looked into this corruption case. He was determined to nail Baines this time. He got a posse of forensic accountants on the job and they worked solidly for a week and found nothing on Baines. Tony wasn’t convinced. He began to follow Baines in his spare time, hoping to pick him up for the slightest thing.
The Monday after following Baines to a horse race, Tony was called into the chiefs office, to explain the complaint of police harassment brought against him by Baines. Tony was suspended for two months on reduced pay. He became bitter. With the help from some friends in the department, he started looking into a case involving a high class prostitution ring in San Diego. From talking to vice cops, he got a list of involved suspects. In his free time, he followed the some of the suspects and reported their movements to his friends in Vice. He discovered that the hub of the operation was on the top floor of a downtown office building. Having reported his findings to his friends, they let him tag along to see the bust.
What they found, made Tony laugh whenever he thought about it. It was mainly middle aged men, in the middle of fucking barely legal girls fresh off the plane from Eastern Europe- most of them had little or no English. The bit that cracked Tony up though, was the fact that one of the middle aged men was the chief. The next day, the chief was out of a job and Tony had his back. The new chief was a fine man. Jim Lennox had been on the force for years and was the most hard working, honest guy in the business. He knew what life was like on the ground for the ordinary cop and he was a good friend of Tony.
Tony’s bitterness never fully went away. He never lost his grudge against Baines and Jim Lennox knew that.

Stephanie awoke from her slumber and she found herself standing up. She tried to move her hands, but she couldn’t. They were tied behind her back. She tried to look down, only to discover a rope, tied tightly around her neck. Stephanie began to panic. She started jerking her arms to see if she could free herself from the surprisingly soft rope. As she moved her hands, she discovered she could feel something- maybe a knot, rubbing against her pussy. She was frightened but highly aroused. She tried to wriggle the rest of her body, but that too was tied. She felt the pattern of a web of ropes on her skin; ornate and tight. She thought she was naked.
The room she was in was dimly lit. She saw all sorts of bizarre items of furniture around the room. It looked like some kind of dungeon. As if from nowhere, she heard a female voice.
“Ms. Montaigne, I expect you wish to know what’s going on. All in good time. I just want you to know, you’re quite safe. Oh, and don’t worry, that gallows that you’re on is purely for effect- at the moment at least.” A red-haired woman stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a crimson PVC catsuit, with matching thigh length boots.
“My name is Lily De Mille. For the time being, you are in my custody. Your position as the daughter of our city’s most esteemed mayor, means that you provide an excellent bargaining tool in my quest to relieve this fine city of five million dollars. Now, I’ll get you down out of there in just a few minutes, but I’ll need you to keep quiet until I say so.”
Stephanie knew she should have been frightened witless, but in the presence of this woman, she felt strangely calm. The redhead set up a camcorder on a stand in the middle of the room, pointed towards Stephanie. She walked over towards Stephanie carrying a ball gag and a narrow strip of cloth. The two ladies stood face to face. Lily put her hands on Stephanie’s face and softly brushed the hair out of her eyes. They became entranced by each others eyes- Lily’s a deep emerald green and Stephanie’s a an icy blue. The moment was cut short as Lily slipped the black strip of cloth over Stephanie’s eyes, tying a knot to secure her blindfold. She made Stephanie open her mouth, and inserted the red ball, tightening the clasp around the back of her head.
“Don’t worry petal, this won’t take long.” whispered Lily softly. She tightened the noose again. All Stephanie could see was the blackness inside the blindfold. She hated the vile taste of rubber in her mouth. Yet, she felt safe in the hands of this gentle mistress. She heard Lily’s voice speaking.
“City of San Diego, you see before you Stephanie Montaigne, the daughter of your mayor. In order to achieve her safe return, you must deposit five million dollars into the account of “The Seattle Foundation” in the Ansbacher Bank on Grand Cayman. Should you fail to do so within twenty four hours, the trapdoor of Stephanie’s gallows will open and she will strangle to death. Don’t try and buy any time, the timer on the trapdoor cannot be reset. Good day.” Lily turned off the camera and went back over to Stephanie. She opened her gag and took of the blindfold.
“Don’t worry, that was just for effect.” said Lily as she proceeded to undo the ropes that bound Stephanie’s body. “I’m not going to make you stand here for that long.”
Stephanie’s ropes fell to the floor and Lily took her by the hand and led her so a soft armchair beside a coffee table. The temperature in the basement was warm enough so as clothes were unnecessary. Stephanie felt a shackle being placed around her left ankle and heard the click of a padlock.
“Now, this chain allows you to move relatively freely around the dungeon. There’s a toilet over there behind that plywood wall, should you need it. Firstly though, we should get to know each other. Tea?”
Stephanie nodded. Lily left and returned shortly afterwards with a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.
“I usually have a slave to bring me tea down here, but alas, it’s just us today.”. She placed the tray on the coffee table, within reach of Stephanie.
“You know, I really don’t know why I put this outfit on. It’s quite uncomfortable and sticky. It inhibits my movements somewhat as well.” She turned away from Stephanie, instinctively, as if she had something to hide. She unzipped the red boots and kicked them to the side. Stretching around to her back, she pulled the zipper of the catsuit down, the material making a satisfying shlucking sound as she peeled it away from her skin. Stephanie thought that Lily looked good naked, but she was a little perturbed by the tattoo down the centre of her back. It showed a naked girl, hanging by a noose from a tree. Stephanie just hoped that wouldn’t be her. Lily turned around and sat down.
“If I’m correct, you’re just itching to know exactly what’s going on. I’m sure you know by now that I intend to extort five million dollars from this city, but I’m sure you’ve got other questions too. Ask away.”
“Who are you and who do you work for?” This was the first time that Stephanie had spoken.
“Two good questions!” said Lily brightly. “First off, I work for myself. Actually, it mightn’t surprise you to know that I’m a professional dominatrix. This little extortion plan though, that’s just a little bit of personal entrepreneurship.” She took a sip of her tea. Now, I just told you who I am, but it might interest you to know who I was.
I was born and raised in Seattle. My name used to be Alison Keefe until I changed it. I started working as a journalist. I became so sick of the way cops weren’t able to prosecute slick rich guys. There were murderers and rapists walking the streets and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. I decided to act the vigilante. I killed a couple of high profile dirt bags that had escaped justice on technicalities. I’ve got to hand it to the cops though, they came damn close to catching me. But I got to them first. I killed the ones on my tail- a couple of CSI’s I believe, and I packed up and moved to San Diego. There’s always justice to be dealt everywhere. I came here and changed my name to Arlene Stanton. I opened up my little business in the basement. Mistress Lily’s Dungeon I called it. And well, here we are.” Stephanie sat stony faced.
“Why are you telling me this? If I get away, I could spill all, and why did you have to kill that guy?” she said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor.
“I killed Baines because he was one of those rich guys that the cops couldn’t prosecute. That, and he had served his purpose to me. I’m telling you all this because you asked. Either you’re going to leave here dead, or you’re going to leave alive and never tell a soul. You get to be a good judge of people in my trade.”
Lily stood up and went over to Stephanie. She sat on her lap and looked into her eyes.
“Now, let’s see what a judge of character I am.”
Their lips met. Stephanie didn’t resist, she just returned the passion. It was a breathless experience. This was a taboo that Stephanie had always felt tempted to explore but never did. She just basked in the pleasure of the moment, enjoying every last second. Her hand slipped between Lily’s legs. Lily broke the kiss off and put her finger to Stephanie’s lips.
“Soon, my petal,” she said softly, “I’ve a little job to do first.”

It was one thirty in the morning. Lily opened the garage door from the inside. She walked out to Baines’ Jag and reversed it into the garage- there was enough room for his car and her own denim blue Ford Taurus. She took the Taurus out and drove downtown- there weren’t many people about, at this early hour.
She parked the car a couple of blocks away from Police Headquarters. With the tape in her pocket, she walked the last couple of blocks. She casually tossed the tape into a bush at the front of the building and walked on, doubling back to her car.
Next, she drove a few miles up to a remote spot in Carlton Hills so, if her call was traced, there wouldn’t be anyone in the area to respond quickly to it. She stopped the car at the side of the road and donned a pair of latex gloves that she kept with her. She dialled the number of police headquarters on her cell phone. The call was answered.
“There’s a tape in the bushes outside your building. Go fetch it. It’s urgent.” She hung up and took the SIM card out of the phone and deleted all her information left on the phone’s short term memory. Using a wet wipe, she cleaned any fingerprints that might have been on the phone. She got out of the car and placed the phone under one of the front wheels. She got back in and drove home, crushing the phone as she left.

Delilah Martin received a phone call telling her about a tape left in the bushes out the front of police headquarters. It might have been a hoax, but she couldn’t afford to take that risk. She dropped everything and ran downstairs to check. She looked in a couple of bushes before she found it and ran back in to tell the officer in charge of the night shift.
The officer in charge, Inspector Lou Jones took the elevator down to the tech department in the basement. He gave the tape to the tech girl on duty and asked her to play it. She found a machine suitable for playing it and switched it on. Lily’s message shocked Jones and the tech. Lou picked up the phone on the wall and called upstairs.
“Get the chief in here now. This is an emergency.

Lily got home at two fifteen. Stephanie looked soundly asleep in the armchair, but she opened her eyes as Lily came down the stairs. They smiled at each other.
“You OK?” Lily asked her.
“I’m OK. Say, there was something I meant to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Why all the elaborate rope work when I was tied up? Why not cuff me and use simple shackles for my ankles?”
“I don’t think that’s my style. It feels so artless to me. Besides, I enjoy it- the challenge, the intricacy. I think a web of ropes tied symmetrically around a female body is pure art- it’s certainly beauty. It’s called shibari. It was originally used by Japanese armies to restrain prisoners, but it’s developed a bit since.”
“I think I like being tied up like that. It feels so sexy.”
“Well, we are in a dungeon and that is what I do for a living. I can tie you up again if you want?” Stephanie had the look in her eyes, of an excited child.
“Can we do it on that rack over there?”


Tony was awakened by a phone call at four. Lennox was on the phone. Apparently it was urgent. Blearily, he got out of bed. There was no question of him not showering. Tony was unable to function without having a shower first. He got out of the shower and threw on whatever was the most convenient. He left his Angwin Drive home, his Mazda barrelling along faster than usual. The time he had lost in the shower, he’d make up on the empty streets.
He arrived at HQ and was told to go straight up to the chief’s office. Jim Lennox was sixtyish and balding. A few years off the beat hadn’t been too kind on his waistline. He was a great cop in his day. He’d done undercover work and smashed a couple of drug rings and rose quickly through the ranks. He was hated by some of his fellow officers for his honesty and good nature. Apparently some people thought that it was wrong not to accept graft. His image as an all round good guy that concealed the tough, hardnosed, cynical interior earned him the respect and admiration of impressionable rookie cops, straight out of police academy. Tony was one of those cops.
When he got to the office, Lennox was on the phone.
“Mr. Mayor, I’m putting my best man on the case.” he was saying. “In fact he’s here right now. We’re doing everything we can and I’ll keep you posted. Take care.”
“What’s the matter Jim?” Tony asked.
“Someone has kidnapped Mayor Montaigne’s daughter Stephanie. They’re demanding five mil as ransom.”
“Smells like the mob to me. Montaigne isn’t well liked among the lawbreaking community- especially La Cosa Nostra.”
“That’s what I thought. Here, take a look at the tape. It was left outside in the bushes.”
“Did we get anything from the cameras out front?”
“No, our messenger was smart. She kept close to the bushes and they obscured the view.”
“She?”
“Yeah, the one shot we did get of her was from behind. It’s definitely a female. The voice on the tape was female too. It could be the same person. Here, take a look.” He viewed it silently and was pensive for a moment.
“Can you get that tape down to tech for me please. I think I hear a buzzing sound in the background that I can’t quite make out. It might be nothing but I’d like them to isolate the sound. Maybe it might tell us something more.”
“Why don’t you take it down yourself? I’m sure it won’t take long.”

Tony took the elevator down to the basement and met the young lab girl with the slightly pointed ears and the cute smile. Her name tag just said her name was Laura.
“Hi Laura, could you do me a favour? There’s a noise on this tape that I’d like you to isolate and play for me. Can you do that?”
“Easy.” she took the tape from him and played it, recording the sound with a microphone attached to her computer.
“I see there’s a constant sound, getting louder as the tape goes on.” she said, pointing to the lines of sound waves appearing on her screen. “Is that the one?”
“ I think so. Can you isolate that and amplify it?” She did so and played the individual sound. A droning sound, getting marginally louder as the tape progressed echoed through the basement. Tony and Laura stood there listening trying to make out the noise. Tony clicked his fingers.
“I know what that sound is!”

“That sound is the engine of a Cessna 182.” he told Lennox. “It sounds like it was flying low and at full power, indicating to me that it was just after taking off. I knew I recognised the pitch.”
“So you think Mayor Montaigne’s daughter could be in captivity near an airport?”
“If that’s a 182, it’s probably a small airport or even field. Maybe Montgomery.”
“You’re really something, you know that Tony? How do you know these things?”
“ I fly a Cessna on the weekend. What were Stephanie Montaigne’s last known movements?”
“We don’t know. We’ve checked her house and her car isn’t in the garage.” The phone on Lennox’ desk rang and Lennox took it.
“Tony, they’ve found her car in the parking lot outside the La Fontainebleau restaurant. I want you to get over there and dig up what you can.”
“I’m on the way.”

Dawn had just broken. It didn’t take Tony long to get over to the restaurant. The green VW was already surrounded by police tape.
“Is there anyone around that was on duty last night?”, Tony asked the cop on duty.
“No lieutenant, everyone’s gone home.” Tony got on his cell phone and rang back to HQ.
“Could you get me the name and number of the owner of the La Fontainebleau restaurant please?” The girl at headquarters told him that the owner was Perry Michaels and she gave Tony the number.
“Mr. Michaels, I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I’m Lt. MacGyver of the San Diego PD. Are you the owner of the La Fontainebleau restaurant?”
“It’s just La Fontainebleau. By saying “the” La Fontainebleau, you’re calling it the the Fontainebleau. But yes, I’m the owner.”
“Great, could you come down immediately? There’s been a burglary and a lot of damage has been done.”
“Oh God! Is it serious?”
“I wouldn’t like to understate the damage, but the term Kristallnacht comes to mind. I suggest you come down and see for yourself.”
“I’ll be there shortly. Thank you lieutenant.”

A dark green, 1970, Rolls Royce convertible pulled up at the crime scene downtown. Perry Michaels looked impeccable for someone that had just rolled out of bed, not twenty five minutes ago. The exterior of the restaurant looked fine to him. Maybe the damage was inside. He found Tony.
“Mr. Michaels, glad you could make it.”
“Where’s the damage? Who did it? How’d they get in?” He was tense and hot and stuttered a little.
“All good, but irrelevant questions. Mr. Michaels, there isn’t any damage, but I do need you to open your restaurant and let me see your CCTV tapes for last night.”
“You got me out of bed for this?!” he screamed. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Mr. Michaels, please. This is a matter of life and death. There’s a young woman being held hostage and this could really help us to find her.”
“Couldn’t you have waited until the morning?”. He was a little calmer now.
“We only have twenty four hours before our her captor kills her. Please Mr. Michaels.”
“Very well then.” He showed Tony into the backroom of the restaurant. Last night’s tape was still in the machine. Michaels rewound it until about five, yesterday afternoon. It kept switching from camera to camera- first, there was a fixed shot of the door to the restaurant, then, about thirty seconds later, the screen would show the cloakroom, then the counter, then the back entrance and finally the parking lot.
As Michaels put the tape on fast forward, Tony saw Stephanie’s green rabbit arrive in the car park and her getting out. Shortly after, he saw a car that intrigued him more- a Jaguar sedan with the license plate CLINT 1. He began to get suspicious. A couple of hours later, he saw Stephanie getting into Baines car with him and through a slightly opaque windscreen, he saw them kiss and Baines jabbing her in the neck with something. Tony stared blankly at the screen. He took out his cell phone and called Lennox.
“Jim, you’re not going to believe it, but I think I know where Stephanie Montaigne is. I saw Clint Baines stab her in the neck and drive off with her in his car.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa Tony, are you sure it was Baines? We don’t want another harassment complaint on our hands.”
“I’m sure Jim. Oh, and I know where Baines was last night after he left the restaurant. I’m going over there on my own to check the place out.”
“No Tony! For the love of God, let me send back up and a SWAT team. You don’t know what you’re up against!”. Lennox’ anguished cries went unheard. Tony had already hung up.
“Nail the bastard this time, Tony” Lennox said to no one in particular.

Stephanie lay back naked on the rack, her hands bound above her head by leather straps and her legs pulled slightly apart. Lily had tightened the screw just a little to put a small amount of tension on Stephanie’s body.
“Now my dear, I believe I felt your hand wandering earlier. You apparently expressed the wish to pleasure me. It would be rude of me to let you do that. You are my guest, and it is up to me to make your stay here as pleasant as I can.” Lily left her there for a moment and returned wearing nothing but a nine inch strap on dildo. Stephanie’s eyes lit up. It always amused Lily to see how people responded, when they were about to be boned by a huge rubber model of a cock. Maybe it was just the knowledge their mistress knew how to do it right. She rubbed a little lube on the dildo and climbed on top of Stephanie’s body.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.” she gasped, pre coital butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Lily began to thrust in and out. She kept fit and didn’t get out of breath easily. This time was no exception. It wasn’t long before Stephanie began to moan, waves of ecstasy emanating through her body. Lily was getting a little wet herself. She thought she was falling for this girl- it was her eyes. They were cold, but deep and beautiful.
Stephanie came with gasps of pleasure and convulsions of her bound, naked body. Lily was happy for her. She would let Stephanie fulfil her own desires later. But not now, not here. She had to be on guard- trouble was afoot.

Tony sped through the awakening city at a speed that was hardly safe. He’d slow down, but not stop for red lights and stop signs, sliding through junctions as he went. His steed was proving its worth. It gripped the road effortlessly. The first angry people, on their way to work honked at him from their SUV’s. He paid no attention. A girl’s life was at stake and he was the only one that could save her.

Lily had unfastened the shackles binding Stephanie’s arms, but not her legs. Stephanie lay on her back looking up at the ceiling.
“Steph,” said Lily in a familiar tone, “Do you know what Lima Syndrome is?”
“I can’t say I do.”
“Are you familiar with the term, Stockholm Syndrome?”
“Sure.”
“Lima Syndrome is like the reciprocal of Stockholm Syndrome. It’s where the captor forms a bond with the captive, instead of the other way around.”
“I see.” said Stephanie, unsure at what Lily was getting at.
“Would you hate me if I told you that I think I’m falling in love with you?” Stephanie was a little taken aback.
“I wouldn’t hate you. You know, I think you’re all right- for someone who wants to kill me.”
“I might have to kill you, but I really don’t want do.”
“Well, don’t then.”
“If you can give me a single good reason not to, I won’t do it.”

Tony tore into the Glenhaven Street and screeched to a halt in front of Lily’s house. He scanned the house. It looked just like every other house in this urban neighbourhood. He got out of the car, his hand poised inside his jacket, ready to draw his gun. He pressed the buzzer.
Lily heard the intercom bell in the basement. She left Stephanie and went to the unit on the wall.
“Who’s there?” she asked sweetly.
“I’m Lieutenant Tony MacGyver of the SDPD. Can I come in please? I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Sure, but I lost my front door key. You’re going to have to go in the back door. The gate at the side is unlocked and so is the back door.”
“Much obliged, thank you.” Lily picked up her own gun and climbed the stairs to the hall. She shut the door behind her. The doorway was recessed and she hid, her back pressed against it, gun in hand.
Tony went carefully around the back of the house, his gun out of its holster, ready to fire. The back door was slightly ajar, and he walked into the kitchen.
“Hello?” he called. Lily stood silently, waiting for him to get closer. The door from the kitchen into the hall was wide open. He was so close, she heard his footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor. Lily pivoted on her left foot, spinning around and pointing the gun straight at Tony. She was too quick. One of the best shooters in the SDPD, was taken by surprise. Lily fired twice, the two bullets hitting Tony in his left arm and shoulder. He collapsed to the ground, his head hitting against the worktop, knocking him out cold.
Lily returned to the dungeon, her gun by her side. Stephanie looked strangely calm as Lily pointed the gun at her head.
“Last chance.” Lily said. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” There were tears welling up in her eyes.
“Because I love you.” said Stephanie. Lily dropped the gun to her side, tears now pouring down her lily white cheeks. She went to kiss Stephanie, but she held a finger to her lips.
“I can fly a plane too. We can escape from here together in my little Cessna.”
“Where is the plane?”
“Montgomery Field. We can be in the air in half an hour from when we get to the field.” Lily wasted no more time with emotion. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and loosened Stephanie’s ankles.
“Get your clothes on. They’re in a pile over there.” As Stephanie dressed, Lily twisted the knob of a wall safe that was hidden behind an old movie poster for House of Whipcord, on the wall. She took out a briefcase and opened the combination lock. Inside was a block of a grey, putty-like substance, about the same size as a small tub of butter, wrapped in clear plastic. There were a couple of timers and a coil of wire in addition to the block, as well as a scalpel. She cut away about three quarters of the block, and attached it to one of the two the propane canisters in the basement, mauling it onto the bottle to ensure adhesion. The other was only a couple of feet away.
Inserting one end of the roll of wire into the putty, she ran the wire out to about three feet, and cut it with the scalpel. She attached the end of the wire to a timer and set it to countdown from twenty minutes.
“What’s that?” Stephanie asked, now fully clothed.
“It’s C4 explosive. I’m going to blow the place up.” Lily said casually. Stephanie seemed nonplussed. Lily carefully put all her explosive equipment back in the briefcase and locked it again. She took several thick wads of cash from the safe. There must have been a quarter of a million dollars there.

Tony came round. He felt the blood oozing from his arm, and he had a racking pain in his head. He tested his legs, and found that they still worked. He clung to the worktop for support. Suddenly, he heard the motor of a garage door come to life and an engine starting. He heard wheel spin as a car sped away. He knew he had to catch it, shot or not.
He staggered uncertainly out to his own car, getting into the low, driver’s seat with difficulty. He didn’t know which way the car went, but instinct told him which way to go. He hit the gas, the engine coming to life in a haze of smoke and noise.
He didn’t stop to consider which way the other car went. At every turn, he sensed which way to go. He scarcely lifted off for corners, the squealing tyres testifying to their torture with the back end stepping out just a little. His arm was pounding. He rounded one particular corner. There, just a hundred yards ahead, he could see the blue Jag. A couple of cars parked near the corner bore the scars of having been hit. The Jag must have been limping, as Tony was quickly gaining on it. Pretty soon he was up on the rear of the car, Lily doing her best to get away.
He pulled alongside in an attempt to force the Jag off the road. He could see a red-haired woman at the wheel. Just as he was bout to execute an offensive manoeuvre, Lily turned suddenly, breaking away from Tony. He tried to take the turn, but he was too late. He had run too wide. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity. He could smell the burning rubber and feel the back end slipping from his grasp. Tony was a good driver, but even he couldn’t recover from this. There was a sickening bang and the toe curling sound of crunching metal as Tony’s Mazda collided with a street lamp. One side of the car lifted off the ground, spinning the vehicle a few yards and taking out a fire hydrant.
He staggered out of the car, having to force the door open. His face was bleeding and he fell to the pavement. Still conscious, he took out his cell phone.
“Jim, Tony here.” His voice was weak and far away and he was about to lose consciousness. “I crashed. They got away. They’re in a blue Jaguar. Send a crew around to 13 Glenhaven Street. I’m sorry Jim.” He felt tired. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Maybe he’d just have a little rest. He dropped the cell phone and lay down on the sidewalk, falling into a deep, deep slumber.

Lily and Stephanie arrived at the airfield, their Jaguar badly bruised. Both their hearts were still hammering in their chests. They got their breaths back and Lily got out of the car. She opened the trunk and the briefcase, wiring the last of the C4 to go off in half an hour.
“Where’s our bird?” she asked Stephanie.
“Follow me.”
There were four or five small planes in the hangar. Stephanie’s was a white 182 with a blue stripe down the side. It looked clean and shiny- then again, there weren’t muddy tracks at fifteen thousand feet. Lily waited while Stephanie carried out all her pre-flight checks. She checked for sediment in the fuel tanks, the level of oil and that all her electrics worked. She always kept her plane fuelled. After quite a few minutes, it was time to go. They taxied onto the runway and the control tower gave them permission for take off.
They rolled down the tarmac, gaining speed and then suddenly they were free from their earthly bondage. They soared higher and higher into the sanctuary that was the deep blue sky.
“Where did you say we were going?” Stephanie shouted over the noise of the engine.
“To Jamaica and freedom.”
“You’re the boss. We’re going to have to stop a couple of times though.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you can handle it. We’ve got enough money to last us a couple of years here.” said Lily
“That’s nice.”
“Look at all those ants down there. It makes you feel kind of powerful, huh?”
“They’re our ants.”
“And we’re their queens.”

Tony woke the next day with tubes coming out of him. The first person he saw was Lennox.
“Hey Tony, you feeling all right.”
“I’ve felt better. Did you get her?”
“We’re dealing with it Tony. You don’t worry about that.”
“For Christ’s sake Jim, tell me! Did you get her or not?” His weak voice was raised.
“No Tony, we didn’t get her.” said Lennox sympathetically.
“Did you get DNA, fingerprints? What about the house? And the car?”
“Tony, the house and the car blew up before we could get to them. There’s no DNA left.”
“Blew up?” asked Tony incredulously.
“She planted bombs in both the house and the car before she left. Her and Montaigne’s daughter are on the run together.” Tony seemed to sink.
“Listen Tony, I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. I’ve got to run. There’ll be a commendation in this for you.” Tony was silent.
He spent the next couple of days mostly alone. There were the doctors and nurses of course. A few friends from the force and an old girlfriend came to see him. Her name was Shelley. He still fancied her. It turned out that she was single again and apparently she wanted to try again with Tony. He agreed to it.
She came by to the hospital every day. They hugged and on the third day, they kissed again. The happy times all came flooding back to him. She seemed to remember the passion too.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Tony.” she told him one day as they gazed into each other’s eyes. But Tony had changed. The Stephanie Montaigne case troubled him deeply. He didn’t like to leave a job unfinished and this was just that- unfinished business. He swore to track down the only people that had ever eluded him. He would do that, whatever it took.

[Venom]

This whole thread here seems to be a little short...:26:

[Horatio Palmer]

I'll take that as deserved sarcasm. My only excuse is that once I start, i can't be stopped. Hey, longer is better or so I'm told.

[Mad Lews]

This whole thread here seems to be a little short...:26:

Not every assignment can be as long as your next one will be Venom. :rolleyes:

[Horatio Palmer]

Hi there. Is there any chance of a new assignment? I become a nervous quivering wreck without new work. :)

[Venom]

I was asked to stay in the neighbourhood of 1200 words for my recent assignment. The last time I counted the words, I got about 5000, and the story wasn't nearly finished...

[pejanon]

Venom,


No word limit but see if you can keep it in the neighborhood of 1200 words.

This means exactly what it says. The length of your story will not be held against you.:icon176: A short short one is more difficult. Prove me wrong.

Horatio, I am thinking on it. Soon.:)

[Horatio Palmer]

Many thanks Pejanon. I look forward to it.