You raise the most important question - the stakes are very high. This predicament will test Anna to the maximum. Seldom the risk was higher. On the other side: One must give the Egyptian credit for this devious plan: What can be worse for a fullblood musician like Anna watching her instrument destroyed and to know she will be never be able to perform again? This scheme aims directly at Anna´s heart.mrjones2009 wrote: ↑1 year ago Will Hayley, Kirsty, Evie and the gang manage to get to Anna in time?
The Files of Art. Inc.: The Hunt for the Lost Scrolls: Chapter 116 (01.04.2024) (FFFF/FFF/ MM/F)
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
excellent read, tension is immense indeed!
[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] l [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Here follows a short preview of Chapter 58:
Anna was not sure how long she could hold herself together. She had long lost track how often she had granted a respite before the torment continued. So far Anna had held her ground “But how long can I endure this?” Anna did not know. She sweated her leg muscles quivered under the strain.
It was only pure and simple will power that kept her going. She would not give in. No, she wouldn´t ever, the only thought that kept her going was that her friends would come for her. They would come for her! Wouldn´t they? Another cramp – this time in her left calve. Anna screamed. But the heavy gag reduced the scream to a low moan.
Anck-Sun-Amun relished in the torment and despair of Anna Romanova. The breaking point could not be far away now, but the Russian had demonstrated much more resilience than she had expected. Maybe the Europeans weren´t so soft after all; she did not like it to discard an old prejudice – but that was a quality she respected. Even in her mortal enemy. And Anna Alexandrovna Romanova was her sworn enemy. There was only one possible outcome: Either she or the Russian would die. A thought that did not frighten her: Death was only the beginning.
She looked at the tied up, gagged, struggling and sweating violinist:
Her power of will was extraordinary “My dear Anna, why don´t give you just in and end this?” the High Priestess addressed Anna softly “The pain will be excruciating for a short moment but you will live. Why don´t end this now?”
The Russians reaction surprised the Egyptian something had changed “Anna´s dark eyes glistened with pure hate” “You will never break me” they said.
[...]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Thank you so much!
Here follows a short preview of Chapter 58:
Chapter 58:
“Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises”
(JRR Tolkien)
Unknown location, London, around the same time:
“Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises”
(JRR Tolkien)
Unknown location, London, around the same time:
Anna was not sure how long she could hold herself together. She had long lost track how often she had granted a respite before the torment continued. So far Anna had held her ground “But how long can I endure this?” Anna did not know. She sweated her leg muscles quivered under the strain.
It was only pure and simple will power that kept her going. She would not give in. No, she wouldn´t ever, the only thought that kept her going was that her friends would come for her. They would come for her! Wouldn´t they? Another cramp – this time in her left calve. Anna screamed. But the heavy gag reduced the scream to a low moan.
Anck-Sun-Amun relished in the torment and despair of Anna Romanova. The breaking point could not be far away now, but the Russian had demonstrated much more resilience than she had expected. Maybe the Europeans weren´t so soft after all; she did not like it to discard an old prejudice – but that was a quality she respected. Even in her mortal enemy. And Anna Alexandrovna Romanova was her sworn enemy. There was only one possible outcome: Either she or the Russian would die. A thought that did not frighten her: Death was only the beginning.
She looked at the tied up, gagged, struggling and sweating violinist:
Her power of will was extraordinary “My dear Anna, why don´t give you just in and end this?” the High Priestess addressed Anna softly “The pain will be excruciating for a short moment but you will live. Why don´t end this now?”
The Russians reaction surprised the Egyptian something had changed “Anna´s dark eyes glistened with pure hate” “You will never break me” they said.
[...]
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 2 times in total.
Just a short notice: This arc is nearing it´s climax. The next update is due tomorrow evening MEST!
[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] l [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Anna was not sure how long she could hold herself together. She had long lost track how often she had granted a respite before the torment continued. So far Anna had held her ground “But how long can I endure this?” Anna did not know. She sweated her leg muscles quivered under the strain.
It was only pure and simple will power that kept her going. She would not give in. No, she wouldn´t ever do that, but the only thought that kept her going was that her friends would come for her. They would come for her! Wouldn´t they? Another cramp – this time in her left calve. Anna screamed. But the heavy gag reduced the scream to a low moan. Her face was read and sweaty above the multi-layered gag, which compressed her lower face with immense pressure. The Russian had constantly to keep her gag reflex under control
Anck-Sun-Amun relished in the torment and despair of Anna Romanova. Her breaking point could not be far away now, but the Russian had demonstrated much more resilience already than she had expected.
Maybe the Europeans weren´t so soft after all; she did not like it to discard an old prejudice – but that was a quality she respected. Even in her mortal enemy. And Anna Alexandrovna Romanova was her sworn enemy. There was only one possible outcome: Either she or the Russian would die. A thought that did not frighten her: Death was only the beginning.
She looked at the tied up, gagged, struggling and sweating violinist:
Her power of will was extraordinary “My dear Anna, why don´t give you just in and end this?” the High Priestess addressed Anna softly “The pain will be excruciating for a short moment but you will live. Why don´t end this now? You have proven yourself, your strength your willpower Anna. You can yet go now”
The soft voice touched something in Anna – and for a fraction of a second she tempted to give in to its alluring temptation, to end it now, the pain, the torment.
Anck-Sun-Amun sensed that her words had struck a chord. She could tell the violinist was tempted but from one moment to the next something changed: Anna´s eyes grew cold grew hard like polished marble: Anna´s dark eyes glistened with pure hate: “You will never break me” they said.
Outside the Asylum Gladstone Park:
They had parked the van fifty metres away from the Asylum they had freed Sophie and Evie from weeks ago, after they had been abducted by Anck-Sun-Amun and her daughters of Isis. The Black Lady turned to the pianist “Chris?” The Canadian grinned “you might use this!” The blonde´s eye brows rose: From a wooden black lacquered box the thief produced Chris´ Katana, the one she had been presented with by her Sensei.
The pianist regarded Sarah with a long look, obviously unsure if she should get angry or not “You broke into my quarters, honestly?” then she paused, she smiled – and accepted the sword “Thank you, I will need it”
“You will need it to defend yourself and Evie” the Thief announced calmly “You two will stay here”
One moment of strained silence followed “The hell I will” Chris shot back hotly “Do you really think I sit on my hands when Anna is in Danger? Well think again Sarah!”
Inside the Asylum, Chamber in the cellar:
Anna watched at the screen above her. Her leg muscles quivered: Every fascicle of her thighs and calves was as taut as a bowstring the moment before the archer released his arrow. Another cramp in her calves contorted her muscles to tight knots. The violinist did not notice that Anck-Sun-
Amun typed a message. And Anna did not register her captors leaving the Chamber, too engrossed in her own private battle against her body.
Only a single thought filled her mind, her whole world was reduced to this mantra: Hold, Anna hold! Keep the pressure up! Her field of vision had narrowed to a dark and narrow tunnel. She groaned, she struggled, but she held. The tension on her ankles was beyond bearable, another cramp –this time in the soles of her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Anna screamed into her gag. But Anna held. Random thoughts shot through her mind “cannot even flex my feet” “Is Chris alright?” “Oh god this hurts so much” The muscles of her calves, of her thighs were quivering under the continued strain more with every second – and just when she was about to give in, the door flew out of its hinges.
10 Minutes earlier:
Nofret had called her people together “We leave now! Follow me to the main entrance!” She had been a bit surprised by her superiors order. No way, von der Marwitz and her people could be that near. Nobody would have recognized the location she had sent! But it was an order by her Preceptor and by Pharaoh. It was not her place to question an order given by the living god: “so let it be written, so let it be done”
They hurried along the floor which led to the main entrance.
At the same time:
Sarah and Kirsty in the lead the team had entered the Asylum. Sophie had recognized the location instantly. It had been the office where Anck-Sun-Amun had interrogated her. A small detail had given it away, a book about the pyramid texts– what an irony! No, Evie would never forget that room, where she had been interrogated, where she had been forced to watch Sophie´s torment – and at times nightmares haunted her, when the High Priestess had assaulted her in her bed room … No, Evie would never forget that room.
Chris grudgingly had accepted that Sarah and Kirsty would go in first – but she had steadfastly refused to stay with Evie in the van. There had been a short animated discussion: Chris and Sarah had stared at each other. Long. Green Eyes drilled into black eyes “I will not just sit here in the van, you got me?” Eyes blazing the blonde had not backed down “Nofret is mine, and mine alone!” She radiated fury in waves.
Sarah had returned nothing just looked long at the pale face of the blonde and straight in her green eyes, as if she was looking for something. . Seconds became an eternity. Finally Sarah relented “Right Chris, you get Nofret – we do the rest! Are we clear?” Chris nodded “We are”
Stealthily they moved forwards, guns drawn. Suddenly the Canadian made a gesture with her hand and they stopped. And then they heard it too: Soft steps of hurried feet coming nearer. The Dark Lady pointed at herself, Kate and Kirsty and motioned around the corner. With her fingers she counted down: Three fingers, two fingers, one finger …
The trio stepped around the corner and opened fire instantly.
At the same time on the other side:
Inwardly Nofret supressed a curse, she wished she had Daughters of Isis under her command. The “material” she had at her disposal had been good for the job at hand: To ambush Romanova and von der Marwitz – they would be no good though, if they had to face von der Marwitz´ team in an open fight:
The Dark Lady and Garrett alone would pose a formidable challenge, Captain Beckett as well. Seasoned warriors all of them, – the Egyptian missed her Khopesh too: Her blade had been broken as she parried one stroke of von der Marwitz at Highclere Castle:
“Chris followed through with a backhand stroke of her left hand which hit the Khopesh just above the hilt. Such was the power of that blow that the over 100 times folded steel of the Katana broke the blade of Chris´ adversary, right above the hilt”
She had been provided with another sword, another Khopesh, but of inferior lineage. The blade did not feel good in her hand and was not as well balanced as her old one. Nofret frowned had there been the sound of careful steps coming nearer? She was not sure. She gestured her gang to keep silence – but her subordinates did not follow her orders: Some of them still whispered. Damn it! And then it happened: around the corner stepped three women, guns drawn, firing without hesitation, moving steadily forward as they fired.
One bullet missed her left ear only barely - Nofret dived to the ground – behind her and around her screams and shouts. Bullets hit, ricochets screeched from the walls. A heavy body hit the floor, then another one.
As sudden as it had begun, the gunfire ceased.
Deafening silence, then a commanding voice “Everybody down on the floor, throw down your weapons - now!” Nofret cursed. It was the blasted Canadian. The air was thick with cordite and the stench of blood - around her the Egyptian heard moans and groans and sobs.
Another authoritative voice she knew too well rang through the silence like a silver trumpet “Nofret! Show yourself!” Chris stepped around the corner, the blonde had shed her coat had laid her gun down “I told you never to cross my path again or anybody else´s I hold dear – you did both! I give you two choices! Surrender or face me in single combat!” Her voice cut like a cold sharp knife through the silence “I promise you this Nofret: nobody will shoot you, you deserve no easy way out! I will take you apart piece by piece!”
“What on earth is she doing?” Kirsty whispered at the Canadian “What she must” the Canadian whispered back calmly “She will duel Nofret – get the others, we secure our captives – if there are any - and go down to the cellar! Let Chris deal with Nofret!” Kirsty nodded and whispered something to Kate, Hayley, Sophie and Evie.
“Are you a coward Nofret? I dare say you are” Von der Marwitz voice dripped with utter contempt, Nofret heard the unmistakable sound as the blonde drew her Katana “Strangling a defenceless old woman? How very very brave!” the blonde challenged her “You are such a coward, you are a sadist, you have no honour you have no code! You are just a bully!”
Every phrase hit Nofret like a whip. She pulled herself together: Now it was the time. The time of all times.
“Goddess stand by me” she prayed silently. The Egyptian composed herself: “Right then” Nofret stood and drew her blade “You will not save your friend” she smiled coldly at Chris “by the time you get there she will be dog´s meat” “Is that so?” A grim smile curled her opponent´s lips. The blonde had gripped her blade firmly with both hands “Then you will dine in Hades today” Chris had spoken with utter surety.
There were only they now. Not did Chris register that her friends had rushed forward and secured their other enemies with zip ties. No, she was entirely focused on one task and one task only: she would bring that woman down, no matter what. That woman who had garrotted an old woman for sport, that woman who had made her live hell, made Anna´s live hell. She owed that to Tatiana Nikolajeva – and to Anna. Nofret would never hurt anybody never again.
Nofret took a closer look at her opponent. Von der Marwitz´ face was ghostly pale, the red angry marks of the gag made for a sharp contrast - her emerald green eyes though burned with an unearthly fire.
Those eyes promised her opponent death and destruction “What Nofret, are you afraid of me?” the blonde´s voice was cold as ice “You. Bloody. Coward!” she hurled another barb at Nofret.
Something in Nofret snapped and with a wild cry she charged at Chris. Their blades collided, sparks flew. The pianist parried Nofret´s forceful and precise stroke with ease and followed through with a counter attack: Her powerful both handed overhead stroke would have cleaved her opponents head cleanly in two – only her quick reflexes saved Nofret.
But so powerful was the stroke its sheer force sent shock waves of pain through the Egyptians sword arm - she had barley time to react as the blonde charged again with a both handed backhand stroke, aimed at her throat.
Chris followed through with a combination of strokes so quick, even the trained eye would have had troubles to follow them – her opponent parried the relentless attacks best as she could - a thought shot through Nofret´s mind: “I unleashed a beast” Another lightning quick combination:
Step by step Chris forced her back ….
In the meantime:
Tears streaked down Anna´s cheeks. The muscles of her legs quivered under the strain “Jesus Christ! I cannot hold much longer” she screamed into her gag, but the massive packing reduced her scream to a barely audible mumble.
Her cheeks turned purple “Let it go Anna, just let it go” she heard a soft voice “No, never- go to hell bitch!” Anna thought. The voice grew colder, as if her tormentor had heard her “You will go there first” The same moment the door flew out of its hinges, crashing on the floor.
Several people charged into the room.
The Black Lady did not need the fraction of a second to get a grasp of the situation, she bellowed several sharp and precise commands: “Sophie go get the Violin! Kirsty release Anna´s hand! Hayley grab the weight above her hand! Kate cut Anna´s bonds! Quick! Go, Ladies, go go go!”
Not one woman hesitated a second: Sophie rushed to the Violin case just in the moment as Anna could not hold it any longer and let it go, her legs flopped to the floor.
Kirsty rushed to the board on which the Russian´s right hand was tied. Hayley just got a grip of the iron chain in time, before the weight could smash Anna´s hand “Hurry Kirsty I don´t know how long I can hold it!” Hayley cursed under her breath.
Kirsty suppressed a curse: freeing Anna´s fingers was difficult: The thump, the index finger, the middle finger – all fingers were tied separately “Kirsty! Hurry! I cannot hold much longer!” Hayley groaned. Kirsty severed the string that held the ring finger and finally the little finger – then the ropes which held Anna´s wrist.
She had just ripped away Anna´s palm and wrist, when Hayley had to let go. The heavy wrecking ball smashed down, splinters whizzed in all directions like a swarm of angry hornets – where Anna´s hand had been just seconds before.
The Canadian stepped before the screen and stared the furious Anck-Sun-Amun in the eye “Newsflash bitch! Things went not according to plan right? I have news for you! Right now, as we speak Chris is taking apart Nofret, literally, when she is done with her, you must scrape what is left of her from the floor!” For a second the face of the High Priestess contorted in impotent rage – then the screen became black – and began to smoulder. The acidly stench of smouldered plastic filled the chamber.
Sarah turned around: Sophie had secured the violin case while Hayley and Kirsty where carefully severing Anna´s bonds. As she could tell the Russian was utterly spent: Her pale sweaty face betrayed her total exhaustion. Her body was covered in sweat too. The Canadian could not imagine how cruel that predicament must have been – to be threatened with dismemberment – and the destruction of her violin which was part of Anna´s soul – the thief knew.
Sarah knelt and looked Anna in the eye “Are you okay?” she asked gently. Meekly the Russian nodded, Hayley had removed the strap which held her head against the head board, Anna blinked - the thief was certain there was a sparkle still in the Russians dark eyes. Tired beyond belief she was, but it was there: The divine spark. Anna Alexandrovna Romanova was not broken. It had been a close call though.
Gently the Canadian stroked Anna about her sweaty forward “Let me remove that gag, right?” Exhausted the Russian nodded. Carefully the Thief worked on the panel gag. The black haired woman was not surprised to discover several more layers of material – but what really did surprise her was the massive ball gag – and what she found beneath it: She stared at Anna´s gaping mouth filled to the brim: “I shall be dammed!” the thief muttered and began to tug at the first pair of panties crammed in Anna´s mouth.
Just as she was about to pull the last pair of soggy panties out of the Russians mouth Chris entered the chamber.
Anna had to have sensed something because she craned her neck. Hers and Chris´ eyes met and something passed between them. Chris held her Katana firmly in her right hand: blood dripped from the tip of the gleaming blade to the floor. Blood dropped from an ugly gash above her left brow. Her Prussian blue turtleneck was torn at her right shoulder.
The wool was dark with blood, but the blonde had only eyes for Anna. Chris had followed the Russian´s gaze “This is nothing” she pointed dismissively at the bloody gash “I could deflect one stroke of her only partially – I repaid her in kind though” The blonde seemed completely unmoved. “I loved this turtleneck though” she jested.
But the Black Lady knew the blonde well enough by now, to read her body language: Chris was tired beyond belief – not that the pianist would admit that: She kept herself upright, upright and composed. The artist would rather die before she would display any sign of weakness. The Black Lady admired that strength, the resilience.
In the meantime Hayley and Kirsty had severed Anna´s bonds completely. Her bare heels were resting on the stone cold floor she did not mind the cold. She was safe. Her friends had saved her – and Chris had avenged her.
When she felt secure enough Anna rose to her feet and rushed at Chris. The Katana fell clattering to the floor and Chris hugged her best friend as firmly as she could. Both women winced.
Chris felt the quivering of Anna´s body, as the Russian pressed herself almost desperately against her. The blonde stroked her friend´s back gently “We made it Anna, we made it” she whispered softly, overcome with emotion too, she hugged Anna even tighter “We made it” Then Kate joined the group hug, during the hunt for the Weinstein Collection the Russian and the American had become best friends.
Anna whispered hoarsely “it is so good to see you Chris, I saw that video, you ball tied on the table”, she paused and stroked gently the gash above the pianists left brow, Chris did not even wince “You are hurt Chris” the Russian spoke softly “It is just a scratch” the blonde demurred “really” – Anna nodded “That scratch needs medical attention, Kirsty will help you, she knows her stuff” she smiled warmly “I know” Chris smiled back. Anna looked at her best friend and her face grew hard “what did you do to Nofret Chris?” The Russian´s voice was hard as steel now.
A hard a cold smile curled Chris´ lips “I took her apart in every sense of the word, she was so enthusiastic about our meeting – she lost her head” Anna nodded “Good!” Her voice betrayed her grim satisfaction “She will rot in hell!” The Russian spoke fiercely “In the ninth circle of hell” Chris added firmly.
What Chris did not tell friend was this: After the blonde had severed her enemy’s right hand with a precise and vicious stroke Nofret had sunken down in slow motion to the floor. The Egyptian blooded from several deep wounds already:
One stroke had left a deep and nasty gash across her forehead. A second stroke had cut deep into her right shoulder. A third one had left a bloody trace from her left shoulder right down to her right thigh. None of these injuries was deadly – but they impeded her ability to fight and they caused pain.
Blood trickled out of the left corner of her mouth. Nofret pressed the bloody stump of her right arm under her left arm pit. Defiantly she stared up at her opponent “What are you waiting for?” she demanded hoarsely “End this!” Chris smiled down at her adversary, but it was not the warm smile her friends knew so well. It was a cold smile which would have made even a polar bear shiver to its core.
She pressed the tip of her blade firmly against the Egyptian´s larynx, forcing Nofret to look her directly in her emerald green eyes. There Nofret saw a steely resolve, neither mercy nor compassion “I should make you pay, make you suffer” the blonde spoke not loud nor aggressive – but clearly and composed “I am not like you though, I will show you mercy – the same mercy you granted Tatiana Nikolajeva” The blonde stepped back and aside.
Chris gripped her Katana with both hands and swung the blade swiftly high in the air – the sword hovered in the air above the blonde´s shoulder for a spell- and then it fell down and precisely across Nofret´s abdomen – Chris stepped back, watching with clinical interest.
At first Nofret felt nothing, then a searing pain shot through her body. In disbelief she stared down at her abdomen. Her white shirt had been severed by a long precise horizontal cut. She pressed her remaining hand on the cut. Nofret´s hand was covered in blood.
Slowly she realized what Chris had done: the pianist had executed the stroke which was normally done by a samurai who committed Seppuku, the ancient Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment.
Coldly Chris looked down at her, outwardly unmoved, stony faced, seconds passed, as Nofret´s intestines gushed out between her fingers. Then with one precise fluid movement she swung her Katana high in the air a second time and the blade soared threw the air, gaining momentum “Kiaii!” Chris battle cry resonated clear and sharp in the air.
The stroke hit Nofret´s throat at the left side: Like a knife through butter, the sharp blade cut effortlessly through skin, cut through flesh cut through bone. Nofret´s head sailed through the air – and landed with a sickening, squelching sound on the stony floor a few feet away.
Without looking down, the blonde stepped over the Egyptian´s corpse, the pool of blood and followed her companions to the cellar.
Anna was waiting.
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Chapter 58:
“Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises”
(JRR Tolkien)
Unknown location, London, around the same time:
“Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises”
(JRR Tolkien)
Unknown location, London, around the same time:
Anna was not sure how long she could hold herself together. She had long lost track how often she had granted a respite before the torment continued. So far Anna had held her ground “But how long can I endure this?” Anna did not know. She sweated her leg muscles quivered under the strain.
It was only pure and simple will power that kept her going. She would not give in. No, she wouldn´t ever do that, but the only thought that kept her going was that her friends would come for her. They would come for her! Wouldn´t they? Another cramp – this time in her left calve. Anna screamed. But the heavy gag reduced the scream to a low moan. Her face was read and sweaty above the multi-layered gag, which compressed her lower face with immense pressure. The Russian had constantly to keep her gag reflex under control
Anck-Sun-Amun relished in the torment and despair of Anna Romanova. Her breaking point could not be far away now, but the Russian had demonstrated much more resilience already than she had expected.
Maybe the Europeans weren´t so soft after all; she did not like it to discard an old prejudice – but that was a quality she respected. Even in her mortal enemy. And Anna Alexandrovna Romanova was her sworn enemy. There was only one possible outcome: Either she or the Russian would die. A thought that did not frighten her: Death was only the beginning.
She looked at the tied up, gagged, struggling and sweating violinist:
Her power of will was extraordinary “My dear Anna, why don´t give you just in and end this?” the High Priestess addressed Anna softly “The pain will be excruciating for a short moment but you will live. Why don´t end this now? You have proven yourself, your strength your willpower Anna. You can yet go now”
The soft voice touched something in Anna – and for a fraction of a second she tempted to give in to its alluring temptation, to end it now, the pain, the torment.
Anck-Sun-Amun sensed that her words had struck a chord. She could tell the violinist was tempted but from one moment to the next something changed: Anna´s eyes grew cold grew hard like polished marble: Anna´s dark eyes glistened with pure hate: “You will never break me” they said.
Outside the Asylum Gladstone Park:
They had parked the van fifty metres away from the Asylum they had freed Sophie and Evie from weeks ago, after they had been abducted by Anck-Sun-Amun and her daughters of Isis. The Black Lady turned to the pianist “Chris?” The Canadian grinned “you might use this!” The blonde´s eye brows rose: From a wooden black lacquered box the thief produced Chris´ Katana, the one she had been presented with by her Sensei.
The pianist regarded Sarah with a long look, obviously unsure if she should get angry or not “You broke into my quarters, honestly?” then she paused, she smiled – and accepted the sword “Thank you, I will need it”
“You will need it to defend yourself and Evie” the Thief announced calmly “You two will stay here”
One moment of strained silence followed “The hell I will” Chris shot back hotly “Do you really think I sit on my hands when Anna is in Danger? Well think again Sarah!”
Inside the Asylum, Chamber in the cellar:
Anna watched at the screen above her. Her leg muscles quivered: Every fascicle of her thighs and calves was as taut as a bowstring the moment before the archer released his arrow. Another cramp in her calves contorted her muscles to tight knots. The violinist did not notice that Anck-Sun-
Amun typed a message. And Anna did not register her captors leaving the Chamber, too engrossed in her own private battle against her body.
Only a single thought filled her mind, her whole world was reduced to this mantra: Hold, Anna hold! Keep the pressure up! Her field of vision had narrowed to a dark and narrow tunnel. She groaned, she struggled, but she held. The tension on her ankles was beyond bearable, another cramp –this time in the soles of her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Anna screamed into her gag. But Anna held. Random thoughts shot through her mind “cannot even flex my feet” “Is Chris alright?” “Oh god this hurts so much” The muscles of her calves, of her thighs were quivering under the continued strain more with every second – and just when she was about to give in, the door flew out of its hinges.
10 Minutes earlier:
Nofret had called her people together “We leave now! Follow me to the main entrance!” She had been a bit surprised by her superiors order. No way, von der Marwitz and her people could be that near. Nobody would have recognized the location she had sent! But it was an order by her Preceptor and by Pharaoh. It was not her place to question an order given by the living god: “so let it be written, so let it be done”
They hurried along the floor which led to the main entrance.
At the same time:
Sarah and Kirsty in the lead the team had entered the Asylum. Sophie had recognized the location instantly. It had been the office where Anck-Sun-Amun had interrogated her. A small detail had given it away, a book about the pyramid texts– what an irony! No, Evie would never forget that room, where she had been interrogated, where she had been forced to watch Sophie´s torment – and at times nightmares haunted her, when the High Priestess had assaulted her in her bed room … No, Evie would never forget that room.
Chris grudgingly had accepted that Sarah and Kirsty would go in first – but she had steadfastly refused to stay with Evie in the van. There had been a short animated discussion: Chris and Sarah had stared at each other. Long. Green Eyes drilled into black eyes “I will not just sit here in the van, you got me?” Eyes blazing the blonde had not backed down “Nofret is mine, and mine alone!” She radiated fury in waves.
Sarah had returned nothing just looked long at the pale face of the blonde and straight in her green eyes, as if she was looking for something. . Seconds became an eternity. Finally Sarah relented “Right Chris, you get Nofret – we do the rest! Are we clear?” Chris nodded “We are”
Stealthily they moved forwards, guns drawn. Suddenly the Canadian made a gesture with her hand and they stopped. And then they heard it too: Soft steps of hurried feet coming nearer. The Dark Lady pointed at herself, Kate and Kirsty and motioned around the corner. With her fingers she counted down: Three fingers, two fingers, one finger …
The trio stepped around the corner and opened fire instantly.
At the same time on the other side:
Inwardly Nofret supressed a curse, she wished she had Daughters of Isis under her command. The “material” she had at her disposal had been good for the job at hand: To ambush Romanova and von der Marwitz – they would be no good though, if they had to face von der Marwitz´ team in an open fight:
The Dark Lady and Garrett alone would pose a formidable challenge, Captain Beckett as well. Seasoned warriors all of them, – the Egyptian missed her Khopesh too: Her blade had been broken as she parried one stroke of von der Marwitz at Highclere Castle:
“Chris followed through with a backhand stroke of her left hand which hit the Khopesh just above the hilt. Such was the power of that blow that the over 100 times folded steel of the Katana broke the blade of Chris´ adversary, right above the hilt”
She had been provided with another sword, another Khopesh, but of inferior lineage. The blade did not feel good in her hand and was not as well balanced as her old one. Nofret frowned had there been the sound of careful steps coming nearer? She was not sure. She gestured her gang to keep silence – but her subordinates did not follow her orders: Some of them still whispered. Damn it! And then it happened: around the corner stepped three women, guns drawn, firing without hesitation, moving steadily forward as they fired.
One bullet missed her left ear only barely - Nofret dived to the ground – behind her and around her screams and shouts. Bullets hit, ricochets screeched from the walls. A heavy body hit the floor, then another one.
As sudden as it had begun, the gunfire ceased.
Deafening silence, then a commanding voice “Everybody down on the floor, throw down your weapons - now!” Nofret cursed. It was the blasted Canadian. The air was thick with cordite and the stench of blood - around her the Egyptian heard moans and groans and sobs.
Another authoritative voice she knew too well rang through the silence like a silver trumpet “Nofret! Show yourself!” Chris stepped around the corner, the blonde had shed her coat had laid her gun down “I told you never to cross my path again or anybody else´s I hold dear – you did both! I give you two choices! Surrender or face me in single combat!” Her voice cut like a cold sharp knife through the silence “I promise you this Nofret: nobody will shoot you, you deserve no easy way out! I will take you apart piece by piece!”
“What on earth is she doing?” Kirsty whispered at the Canadian “What she must” the Canadian whispered back calmly “She will duel Nofret – get the others, we secure our captives – if there are any - and go down to the cellar! Let Chris deal with Nofret!” Kirsty nodded and whispered something to Kate, Hayley, Sophie and Evie.
“Are you a coward Nofret? I dare say you are” Von der Marwitz voice dripped with utter contempt, Nofret heard the unmistakable sound as the blonde drew her Katana “Strangling a defenceless old woman? How very very brave!” the blonde challenged her “You are such a coward, you are a sadist, you have no honour you have no code! You are just a bully!”
Every phrase hit Nofret like a whip. She pulled herself together: Now it was the time. The time of all times.
“Goddess stand by me” she prayed silently. The Egyptian composed herself: “Right then” Nofret stood and drew her blade “You will not save your friend” she smiled coldly at Chris “by the time you get there she will be dog´s meat” “Is that so?” A grim smile curled her opponent´s lips. The blonde had gripped her blade firmly with both hands “Then you will dine in Hades today” Chris had spoken with utter surety.
There were only they now. Not did Chris register that her friends had rushed forward and secured their other enemies with zip ties. No, she was entirely focused on one task and one task only: she would bring that woman down, no matter what. That woman who had garrotted an old woman for sport, that woman who had made her live hell, made Anna´s live hell. She owed that to Tatiana Nikolajeva – and to Anna. Nofret would never hurt anybody never again.
Nofret took a closer look at her opponent. Von der Marwitz´ face was ghostly pale, the red angry marks of the gag made for a sharp contrast - her emerald green eyes though burned with an unearthly fire.
Those eyes promised her opponent death and destruction “What Nofret, are you afraid of me?” the blonde´s voice was cold as ice “You. Bloody. Coward!” she hurled another barb at Nofret.
Something in Nofret snapped and with a wild cry she charged at Chris. Their blades collided, sparks flew. The pianist parried Nofret´s forceful and precise stroke with ease and followed through with a counter attack: Her powerful both handed overhead stroke would have cleaved her opponents head cleanly in two – only her quick reflexes saved Nofret.
But so powerful was the stroke its sheer force sent shock waves of pain through the Egyptians sword arm - she had barley time to react as the blonde charged again with a both handed backhand stroke, aimed at her throat.
Chris followed through with a combination of strokes so quick, even the trained eye would have had troubles to follow them – her opponent parried the relentless attacks best as she could - a thought shot through Nofret´s mind: “I unleashed a beast” Another lightning quick combination:
Step by step Chris forced her back ….
In the meantime:
Tears streaked down Anna´s cheeks. The muscles of her legs quivered under the strain “Jesus Christ! I cannot hold much longer” she screamed into her gag, but the massive packing reduced her scream to a barely audible mumble.
Her cheeks turned purple “Let it go Anna, just let it go” she heard a soft voice “No, never- go to hell bitch!” Anna thought. The voice grew colder, as if her tormentor had heard her “You will go there first” The same moment the door flew out of its hinges, crashing on the floor.
Several people charged into the room.
The Black Lady did not need the fraction of a second to get a grasp of the situation, she bellowed several sharp and precise commands: “Sophie go get the Violin! Kirsty release Anna´s hand! Hayley grab the weight above her hand! Kate cut Anna´s bonds! Quick! Go, Ladies, go go go!”
Not one woman hesitated a second: Sophie rushed to the Violin case just in the moment as Anna could not hold it any longer and let it go, her legs flopped to the floor.
Kirsty rushed to the board on which the Russian´s right hand was tied. Hayley just got a grip of the iron chain in time, before the weight could smash Anna´s hand “Hurry Kirsty I don´t know how long I can hold it!” Hayley cursed under her breath.
Kirsty suppressed a curse: freeing Anna´s fingers was difficult: The thump, the index finger, the middle finger – all fingers were tied separately “Kirsty! Hurry! I cannot hold much longer!” Hayley groaned. Kirsty severed the string that held the ring finger and finally the little finger – then the ropes which held Anna´s wrist.
She had just ripped away Anna´s palm and wrist, when Hayley had to let go. The heavy wrecking ball smashed down, splinters whizzed in all directions like a swarm of angry hornets – where Anna´s hand had been just seconds before.
The Canadian stepped before the screen and stared the furious Anck-Sun-Amun in the eye “Newsflash bitch! Things went not according to plan right? I have news for you! Right now, as we speak Chris is taking apart Nofret, literally, when she is done with her, you must scrape what is left of her from the floor!” For a second the face of the High Priestess contorted in impotent rage – then the screen became black – and began to smoulder. The acidly stench of smouldered plastic filled the chamber.
Sarah turned around: Sophie had secured the violin case while Hayley and Kirsty where carefully severing Anna´s bonds. As she could tell the Russian was utterly spent: Her pale sweaty face betrayed her total exhaustion. Her body was covered in sweat too. The Canadian could not imagine how cruel that predicament must have been – to be threatened with dismemberment – and the destruction of her violin which was part of Anna´s soul – the thief knew.
Sarah knelt and looked Anna in the eye “Are you okay?” she asked gently. Meekly the Russian nodded, Hayley had removed the strap which held her head against the head board, Anna blinked - the thief was certain there was a sparkle still in the Russians dark eyes. Tired beyond belief she was, but it was there: The divine spark. Anna Alexandrovna Romanova was not broken. It had been a close call though.
Gently the Canadian stroked Anna about her sweaty forward “Let me remove that gag, right?” Exhausted the Russian nodded. Carefully the Thief worked on the panel gag. The black haired woman was not surprised to discover several more layers of material – but what really did surprise her was the massive ball gag – and what she found beneath it: She stared at Anna´s gaping mouth filled to the brim: “I shall be dammed!” the thief muttered and began to tug at the first pair of panties crammed in Anna´s mouth.
Just as she was about to pull the last pair of soggy panties out of the Russians mouth Chris entered the chamber.
Anna had to have sensed something because she craned her neck. Hers and Chris´ eyes met and something passed between them. Chris held her Katana firmly in her right hand: blood dripped from the tip of the gleaming blade to the floor. Blood dropped from an ugly gash above her left brow. Her Prussian blue turtleneck was torn at her right shoulder.
The wool was dark with blood, but the blonde had only eyes for Anna. Chris had followed the Russian´s gaze “This is nothing” she pointed dismissively at the bloody gash “I could deflect one stroke of her only partially – I repaid her in kind though” The blonde seemed completely unmoved. “I loved this turtleneck though” she jested.
But the Black Lady knew the blonde well enough by now, to read her body language: Chris was tired beyond belief – not that the pianist would admit that: She kept herself upright, upright and composed. The artist would rather die before she would display any sign of weakness. The Black Lady admired that strength, the resilience.
In the meantime Hayley and Kirsty had severed Anna´s bonds completely. Her bare heels were resting on the stone cold floor she did not mind the cold. She was safe. Her friends had saved her – and Chris had avenged her.
When she felt secure enough Anna rose to her feet and rushed at Chris. The Katana fell clattering to the floor and Chris hugged her best friend as firmly as she could. Both women winced.
Chris felt the quivering of Anna´s body, as the Russian pressed herself almost desperately against her. The blonde stroked her friend´s back gently “We made it Anna, we made it” she whispered softly, overcome with emotion too, she hugged Anna even tighter “We made it” Then Kate joined the group hug, during the hunt for the Weinstein Collection the Russian and the American had become best friends.
Anna whispered hoarsely “it is so good to see you Chris, I saw that video, you ball tied on the table”, she paused and stroked gently the gash above the pianists left brow, Chris did not even wince “You are hurt Chris” the Russian spoke softly “It is just a scratch” the blonde demurred “really” – Anna nodded “That scratch needs medical attention, Kirsty will help you, she knows her stuff” she smiled warmly “I know” Chris smiled back. Anna looked at her best friend and her face grew hard “what did you do to Nofret Chris?” The Russian´s voice was hard as steel now.
A hard a cold smile curled Chris´ lips “I took her apart in every sense of the word, she was so enthusiastic about our meeting – she lost her head” Anna nodded “Good!” Her voice betrayed her grim satisfaction “She will rot in hell!” The Russian spoke fiercely “In the ninth circle of hell” Chris added firmly.
What Chris did not tell friend was this: After the blonde had severed her enemy’s right hand with a precise and vicious stroke Nofret had sunken down in slow motion to the floor. The Egyptian blooded from several deep wounds already:
One stroke had left a deep and nasty gash across her forehead. A second stroke had cut deep into her right shoulder. A third one had left a bloody trace from her left shoulder right down to her right thigh. None of these injuries was deadly – but they impeded her ability to fight and they caused pain.
Blood trickled out of the left corner of her mouth. Nofret pressed the bloody stump of her right arm under her left arm pit. Defiantly she stared up at her opponent “What are you waiting for?” she demanded hoarsely “End this!” Chris smiled down at her adversary, but it was not the warm smile her friends knew so well. It was a cold smile which would have made even a polar bear shiver to its core.
She pressed the tip of her blade firmly against the Egyptian´s larynx, forcing Nofret to look her directly in her emerald green eyes. There Nofret saw a steely resolve, neither mercy nor compassion “I should make you pay, make you suffer” the blonde spoke not loud nor aggressive – but clearly and composed “I am not like you though, I will show you mercy – the same mercy you granted Tatiana Nikolajeva” The blonde stepped back and aside.
Chris gripped her Katana with both hands and swung the blade swiftly high in the air – the sword hovered in the air above the blonde´s shoulder for a spell- and then it fell down and precisely across Nofret´s abdomen – Chris stepped back, watching with clinical interest.
At first Nofret felt nothing, then a searing pain shot through her body. In disbelief she stared down at her abdomen. Her white shirt had been severed by a long precise horizontal cut. She pressed her remaining hand on the cut. Nofret´s hand was covered in blood.
Slowly she realized what Chris had done: the pianist had executed the stroke which was normally done by a samurai who committed Seppuku, the ancient Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment.
Coldly Chris looked down at her, outwardly unmoved, stony faced, seconds passed, as Nofret´s intestines gushed out between her fingers. Then with one precise fluid movement she swung her Katana high in the air a second time and the blade soared threw the air, gaining momentum “Kiaii!” Chris battle cry resonated clear and sharp in the air.
The stroke hit Nofret´s throat at the left side: Like a knife through butter, the sharp blade cut effortlessly through skin, cut through flesh cut through bone. Nofret´s head sailed through the air – and landed with a sickening, squelching sound on the stony floor a few feet away.
Without looking down, the blonde stepped over the Egyptian´s corpse, the pool of blood and followed her companions to the cellar.
Anna was waiting.
-
slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2616
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
Wow, that was some violence. Required, but still. Tolkien was right, a sword day.
Good read though, well done.
Good read though, well done.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
superbly done! Great suspense! Excellent psychology of combar as I understand it! Taking bows...
Violent indeed! But fitting for this story. You are on a roll, [mention]Caesar73[/mention].slackywacky wrote: ↑1 year ago Wow, that was some violence. Required, but still. Tolkien was right, a sword day.
Good read though, well done.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] l [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
[mention]slackywacky[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention]
Yes, this arc is dark - Chris and Anna are tested to their limits and this display of cruelty by Chris is uncharacteristic for her. But after what they have gone through, Chris´ reaction is understandable. She spared Nofret´s live at Highclere Castle - did the right thing. That she is determined to take Nofret down, is - human.
Anna stared down at the Lord-Dunn-Raven resting on the red velvet of its violin case. Absentmindedly she touched the space where normally the G-string would have been. The G-string was missing. Tatiana would have scolded her for being so careless.
As if on autopilot the Russian went to her wardrobe and opened it. She rummaged through a drawer till she had found what she needed, a small case. She opened it and retrieved something. It was a piece of string, a new G-string.
The violinist returned to the violin and set to work, with precise, practised motions. 10 minutes later she took the Stradivarius. Anna had replaced the missing G-string. The dark haired Russian grabbed her bow with a firm grip and prepared to play.
But first she had to tune the instrument – as Tatiana had taught her over 20 years ago. Her bow touched the G-String softly, tenderly but steady- it sounded perfect. The tone blossomed under her touch.
Anna began to play.
As Kate walked the hallway to Anna´s Quarters she heard the stately tunes of Handel´s Sarabande –it reminded the American of a funeral cortege:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOLQd_pUbxs
The voices of music play Handel´s Sarabande in d-minor HWV 437
The solemn melody conveyed grief, grief and sorrow. Kate waited before she knocked gently at Anna´s door “Time for dinner Anna, are you coming?” The playing stopped “Come in” she heard the Russian´s voice. Gently Kate opened the door: Anna had turned her back to her, putting the violin back into her case.
The violinist turned to Kate:
The Russian had her long dark hair bound in a ponytail obviously she had brushed her dark tresses so long till they shimmered. Anna was clad entirely in black. A black turtleneck, black slacks and thick black woollen Socks on her feet. Her face was pale, the meticulously applied make up hid the marks and indentations of the cruel gag she had been forced to wear – barely. The fresh bright red scar above her left brow stood out in a stark contrast to her pale skin.
[...]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
I am humbled!
[mention]slackywacky[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention]
Yes, this arc is dark - Chris and Anna are tested to their limits and this display of cruelty by Chris is uncharacteristic for her. But after what they have gone through, Chris´ reaction is understandable. She spared Nofret´s live at Highclere Castle - did the right thing. That she is determined to take Nofret down, is - human.
Chapter 59
“Kaddish”
or:
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn”
Three hours later, Hall Place Manor, Anna´s suite:
“Kaddish”
or:
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn”
Three hours later, Hall Place Manor, Anna´s suite:
Anna stared down at the Lord-Dunn-Raven resting on the red velvet of its violin case. Absentmindedly she touched the space where normally the G-string would have been. The G-string was missing. Tatiana would have scolded her for being so careless.
As if on autopilot the Russian went to her wardrobe and opened it. She rummaged through a drawer till she had found what she needed, a small case. She opened it and retrieved something. It was a piece of string, a new G-string.
The violinist returned to the violin and set to work, with precise, practised motions. 10 minutes later she took the Stradivarius. Anna had replaced the missing G-string. The dark haired Russian grabbed her bow with a firm grip and prepared to play.
But first she had to tune the instrument – as Tatiana had taught her over 20 years ago. Her bow touched the G-String softly, tenderly but steady- it sounded perfect. The tone blossomed under her touch.
Anna began to play.
As Kate walked the hallway to Anna´s Quarters she heard the stately tunes of Handel´s Sarabande –it reminded the American of a funeral cortege:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOLQd_pUbxs
The voices of music play Handel´s Sarabande in d-minor HWV 437
The solemn melody conveyed grief, grief and sorrow. Kate waited before she knocked gently at Anna´s door “Time for dinner Anna, are you coming?” The playing stopped “Come in” she heard the Russian´s voice. Gently Kate opened the door: Anna had turned her back to her, putting the violin back into her case.
The violinist turned to Kate:
The Russian had her long dark hair bound in a ponytail obviously she had brushed her dark tresses so long till they shimmered. Anna was clad entirely in black. A black turtleneck, black slacks and thick black woollen Socks on her feet. Her face was pale, the meticulously applied make up hid the marks and indentations of the cruel gag she had been forced to wear – barely. The fresh bright red scar above her left brow stood out in a stark contrast to her pale skin.
[...]
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
-
slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2616
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
Darn, another teaser. And you call me mean 
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
Maybe not mean. But waiting for updates is the time that try men's souls.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
What is there to add to those words of two great authors in [mention]GreyLord[/mention] and [mention]slackywacky[/mention]. For yet again these last few chapters have been masterful, teasing and tormenting [mention]Caesar73[/mention]. You are both mean and entertaining.
[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] l [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Thank you for your praise dear Friend! Here will follow now Chapter 59:
Anna stared down at the Lord-Dunn-Raven resting on the red velvet of its violin case. Absentmindedly she touched the space where normally the G-string would have been. The G-string was missing. Tatiana would have scolded her for being so careless.
As if on autopilot the Russian went to her wardrobe and opened it. She rummaged through a drawer till she had found what she needed, a small case. She opened it and retrieved something. It was a piece of string, a new G-string.
The violinist returned to the violin and set to work, with precise, practised motions. 10 minutes later she took the Stradivarius. Anna had replaced the missing G-string. The dark haired Russian grabbed her bow with a firm grip and prepared to play.
But first she had to tune the instrument – as Tatiana had taught her over 20 years ago. Her bow touched the G-String softly, tenderly but steady- it sounded perfect. The tone blossomed under her touch.
Anna began to play.
As Kate walked the hallway to Anna´s Quarters she heard the stately tunes of Handel´s Sarabande –it reminded the American of a funeral cortege:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOLQd_pUbxs
The voices of music play Handel´s Sarabande in d-minor HWV 437
The solemn melody conveyed grief, grief and sorrow. Kate waited before she knocked gently at Anna´s door “Time for dinner Anna, are you coming?” The playing stopped “Come in” she heard the Russian´s voice. Gently Kate opened the door: Anna had turned her back to her, putting the violin back into her case.
The violinist turned to Kate:
The Russian had her long dark hair bound in a ponytail obviously she had brushed her dark tresses so long till they shimmered. Anna was clad entirely in black. A black turtleneck, black slacks and thick black woollen Socks on her feet. Her face was pale, the meticulously applied make up hid the marks and indentations of the cruel gag she had been forced to wear – barely. The fresh bright red scar above her left brow stood out in a stark contrast to her pale skin.
Around her neck the Russian wore a silver cross, decorated with diamonds. It looked ancient. An heirloom of the House of Romanov? Kate had never seen it before. With three quick steps the American closed the distance and hugged her friend tightly “It was not your fault” she looked Anna directly in the Eye “I know” Anna replied softly “but it feels that way. I let her down” “No” Kate replied softly, but clear “You did not. You are not responsible for her death. Nofret was. And she paid the price”
Later in the Dining Hall:
The Dark Lady looked around in the wide Hall. The girls were chatting amiably. The return to Hall Place Manor had been uneventful and Sophie had prepared dinner. Sarah had noticed though that Anna had taken only a bite, but then left the Hall. Which was remarkable: Anna leaving a dinner before dessert was unusual. The thief was not the only one who had noticed that. Kate and Chris exchanged a look. The blonde shook her head gently. As they filed out after dessert Kate took Chris aside “Where is Anna?”
Chris smiled slightly “I don´t know for sure but I have an educated guess” To herself the American thought that the pianist looked tired but also relaxed, no wonder after her ordeal. Kirsty had taken care of her wounds. She had needed no stitches the Briton had assured her – and the gash above her eye brow would leave no scar. “Kate?” Chris´ interrupted her musings.
“Come” Chris said simply. After a long shower, and a massage she moved much more gracefully. Her green thick woollen socks made almost no sound on the floor. Kate followed her. Where was Chris heading?
They came to a halt before a large wooden door. The library, and then Kate heard them, the soft melancholic tones of a violin. Kate was no expert, but those bitter sweet dulcet tones conveyed sadness: Deep Sadness and grief.
Very carefully Chris opened the door. On their stockinged feet the two women tapped inside the vast room. It was dark except the large fire burning brightly in the vast fireplace, before the fireplace stood Anna, her body moving in the rhythm of the music, as they carefully moved nearer Kate could see now that tears flowed freely across Anna´s cheeks – but the violinist did not care. Only now and then small sobs could be heard – but her tone was immaculate. It was warm and brilliant.
Gently Chris touched Kate´s left shoulder and motioned to two armchairs.
“She plays Bach” Chris whispered “This is her way to grief”
It was the chaconne. Bach´s chaconne, how often Anna had to play that piece for Tatiana Nikolajeva? The Russian did not know.
Memories flooded her mind: She had been ten years old, when she had to play the first time for her at the Saint Petersburg Conservatory. She remembered only too well when she had walked the imperious stairwell of the building, which had been erected in 1862, at the hand of her mother, she had clasped her cold hand tightly – craving for solace, but she got none.
Yesterday she had been told today she would meet her new teacher. And her mother had made it very clear to her “Do not bring shame on the family” Bringing shame on the family was a sin, not to be forgiven in the most noble and ancient house of Romanov.
Anna had felt awkward and insecure: She was very tall for her age, skinny and her classmates had always mocked her, because of her ancestry: She was “the Romanova” to Anna that name sounded like a curse.
They had stood before a large, double winged door; her mother had sternly told her once more “Go in. Keep yourself upright. And do not forget: don´t bring shame on your family!” as if the young girl had needed that not so subtle reminder “Yes mother” Anna nodded automatically, out of habit - and stepped tentatively over the threshold.
When she entered Tatiana Nikolaeva’s office, the gaunt austere looking teacher had scrutinized her with cold grey eyes “So you are the young Romanova” her voice was as cold as her grey eyes “Warm up girl and let us see, if you are really so talented as they say. Lesson number one: Talent without practise and dedication is nothing. Remember that always!”
When Anna had finished her warm up, she had been told curtly “Play the chaconne!” The young girl did “That was good child” Nikolajeva had told her coldly after Anna had finished “but it was not good enough, you can do better; play it again – I will interrupt you this time whenever you make an error”
And she had interrupted Anna many times.
On this day Anna had played the Chaconne fifteen times – and hated her new teacher with passion since then.
As her bow touched the strings a stream of pictures flooded Anna´s mind. She could not and she made no effort to control them. She continued to play. The pictures of today would be with her - always. They were ingrained in her mind. And she hated Anck-Sun-Amun for that.
Another memory crossed her mind: Another time, the same room. The older Anna set her bow down. She had just finished the chaconne. Tatiana Nikolajeva clapped her hands “This was really good Anna. Child you have gone a long way” Her face grew serious. Anna had never seen that look on her face “Anna Alexandrovna Romanova you are the talent of a generation. I know you must hate me, because I have been so hard on you. But it was all for the best. Maybe you will see that in time”
The present:
Anna did not sense that her two friends entered the library, so immersed she was in her grief. The Russian felt the lush carpet under her soles, but she was not cold. She had don two pairs of thick woollen socks on her feet before she had gone to the library. Anna had Chris told once that she had to feel the ground under her feet, to feel connected.
The Russian felt guilt. Guilt and hate: Guilt that her former teacher had been killed because of her, hate because what that woman had done to her. Nofret had killed her with her violin “And I will always remember that” Anna thought
Anna had finished the chaconne but continued to play, a slight modulation and Anna played a Russian lullaby – effortless the violinist changed tune again. Chris recognized it, it was a Hebrew Song “Yerushalayim shel zahav” – and she felt this was Anna´s final tribute to her teacher, who had been Jewish, Chris knew the lyrics by heart she had accompanied her friend several times, when the Russian had practised the song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nk6pcXAXCU&t=1s
Yerushalayim Shel Zahav (Instrumental) - Raphael Batista
The mountain air is clear as wine
And the scent of pines
Is carried on the breeze of twilight
With the sound of bells.
And in the slumber of tree and stone
Captured in her dream
The city that sits solitary
And in its midst is a wall.
Jerusalem of gold,
and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin
for all your songs.
We have returned to the cisterns
To the market and to the market-place
A ram’s horn calls out
on the Temple Mount
In the Old City.
And in the caves in the mountain
Thousands of suns shine -
We will once again descend to the Dead Sea
By way of Jericho!
Jerusalem of gold,
and of bronze and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.
But as I come to sing to you today,
And to adorn crowns to you
I am the smallest of the youngest
of your children
And of the last poet
For your name scorches the lips
Like the kiss of a seraph
If I forget thee, Jerusalem,
Which is all gold…
Jerusalem of gold, and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.
The last tone of Anna´s violin resounded in the air. The Russian put down her bow and looked up. Her eyes were filled with tears. Chris and Kate got up and closed the distance, but gave their friend space:
Anna laid the violin down, gently and carefully – like a lover would lay his partner to rest. Gently she touched the wood, which was still warm, where it had rested against her body, she caressed the warm wood “Thank you Tatiana” she whispered softly and spoke in Hebrew the words of the Mourner´s Kaddish.
When she had ended something became clear to her:
Only in those dreadful hours in the vault she had realized fully what the Stradivarius meant to her. The Stradivarius was her. She was the Stradivarius. And Tatiana Nikolajeva had known this from the beginning. Chris and Kate hugged her tightly as her tears flowed freely and sobs shook her body.
As they slowly subsided, Anna felt save. She had friends who would do anything for her, who had done anything for her. She looked at Chris´ pale face at the gash above her left brow, at Kate, who had become the best of friends one could wish for – both had gone above and beyond to save her without any hesitation.
The Russian pulled herself together, her eyes clear now. She strode to the bar and filled three shot glasses with a clear colourless liquid “This is in my opinion the best Russian Vodka “Jewel of Russia Ultra Black Label” she explained and the ghost of the smallest of smiles curled her lips.
Kate and Chris took one each, Anna the third. She raised it “To Tatiana!” “To Tatiana!” her friends rang back. They clanked glasses and downed the vodka straight. Chris felt the alcohol burning her throat, her eyes mustering her friend keenly.
Anna felt overwhelmed but two of the people she cared about most were there. And it was as if Kate had read her thoughts “We will bring Anck-Sun-Amun to justice!” “Together” Chris added calmly “Together” Anna agreed.
The Egyptian Desert around the same time:
The High Priestess wanted to scream. Romanova had gotten away – again! True she enjoyed the Russian´s suffering very much. Truth to be told it had aroused her: watching Anna´s struggles.
Her fighting spirit, her hot hate, and then von der Marwitz Team had disturbed the party in exactly the wrong moment, when Romanova had lost the fight – the dammed Canadian had reacted very fast – and the other members of von der Marwitz Team had acted without hesitation.
And then The Black Lady had stepped in front of her, her dark eyes drilling into hers “Listen bitch! I have news for you ….” On the list of her enemies the thief ranked third: After Romanova and von der Marwitz. She had no doubt that the Canadian had spoken the truth. She had meant every word: Nofret was a good fighter but against a furious von der Marwitz ….
While Anck-Sun-Amun regretted Nofret´s death she had taken this end always into account. Had Nofret been taken captive again she probably would have spilled the beans – at some point. So her knowledge had died with her. Her contacts had told her, that Nofret had not betrayed their cause, since she had been captured at Highclere Castle.
And a smile curled the High-Priestesses lips: She and the Grand Vizier had already divulged a plan to full fill Pharaoh´s wishes … this Game was not over: In fact it had barely begun.
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Thank you for your praise dear Friend! Here will follow now Chapter 59:
Chapter 59
“Kaddish”
or:
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn”
Three hours later, Hall Place Manor, Anna´s suite:
“Kaddish”
or:
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn”
Three hours later, Hall Place Manor, Anna´s suite:
Anna stared down at the Lord-Dunn-Raven resting on the red velvet of its violin case. Absentmindedly she touched the space where normally the G-string would have been. The G-string was missing. Tatiana would have scolded her for being so careless.
As if on autopilot the Russian went to her wardrobe and opened it. She rummaged through a drawer till she had found what she needed, a small case. She opened it and retrieved something. It was a piece of string, a new G-string.
The violinist returned to the violin and set to work, with precise, practised motions. 10 minutes later she took the Stradivarius. Anna had replaced the missing G-string. The dark haired Russian grabbed her bow with a firm grip and prepared to play.
But first she had to tune the instrument – as Tatiana had taught her over 20 years ago. Her bow touched the G-String softly, tenderly but steady- it sounded perfect. The tone blossomed under her touch.
Anna began to play.
As Kate walked the hallway to Anna´s Quarters she heard the stately tunes of Handel´s Sarabande –it reminded the American of a funeral cortege:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOLQd_pUbxs
The voices of music play Handel´s Sarabande in d-minor HWV 437
The solemn melody conveyed grief, grief and sorrow. Kate waited before she knocked gently at Anna´s door “Time for dinner Anna, are you coming?” The playing stopped “Come in” she heard the Russian´s voice. Gently Kate opened the door: Anna had turned her back to her, putting the violin back into her case.
The violinist turned to Kate:
The Russian had her long dark hair bound in a ponytail obviously she had brushed her dark tresses so long till they shimmered. Anna was clad entirely in black. A black turtleneck, black slacks and thick black woollen Socks on her feet. Her face was pale, the meticulously applied make up hid the marks and indentations of the cruel gag she had been forced to wear – barely. The fresh bright red scar above her left brow stood out in a stark contrast to her pale skin.
Around her neck the Russian wore a silver cross, decorated with diamonds. It looked ancient. An heirloom of the House of Romanov? Kate had never seen it before. With three quick steps the American closed the distance and hugged her friend tightly “It was not your fault” she looked Anna directly in the Eye “I know” Anna replied softly “but it feels that way. I let her down” “No” Kate replied softly, but clear “You did not. You are not responsible for her death. Nofret was. And she paid the price”
Later in the Dining Hall:
The Dark Lady looked around in the wide Hall. The girls were chatting amiably. The return to Hall Place Manor had been uneventful and Sophie had prepared dinner. Sarah had noticed though that Anna had taken only a bite, but then left the Hall. Which was remarkable: Anna leaving a dinner before dessert was unusual. The thief was not the only one who had noticed that. Kate and Chris exchanged a look. The blonde shook her head gently. As they filed out after dessert Kate took Chris aside “Where is Anna?”
Chris smiled slightly “I don´t know for sure but I have an educated guess” To herself the American thought that the pianist looked tired but also relaxed, no wonder after her ordeal. Kirsty had taken care of her wounds. She had needed no stitches the Briton had assured her – and the gash above her eye brow would leave no scar. “Kate?” Chris´ interrupted her musings.
“Come” Chris said simply. After a long shower, and a massage she moved much more gracefully. Her green thick woollen socks made almost no sound on the floor. Kate followed her. Where was Chris heading?
They came to a halt before a large wooden door. The library, and then Kate heard them, the soft melancholic tones of a violin. Kate was no expert, but those bitter sweet dulcet tones conveyed sadness: Deep Sadness and grief.
Very carefully Chris opened the door. On their stockinged feet the two women tapped inside the vast room. It was dark except the large fire burning brightly in the vast fireplace, before the fireplace stood Anna, her body moving in the rhythm of the music, as they carefully moved nearer Kate could see now that tears flowed freely across Anna´s cheeks – but the violinist did not care. Only now and then small sobs could be heard – but her tone was immaculate. It was warm and brilliant.
Gently Chris touched Kate´s left shoulder and motioned to two armchairs.
“She plays Bach” Chris whispered “This is her way to grief”
It was the chaconne. Bach´s chaconne, how often Anna had to play that piece for Tatiana Nikolajeva? The Russian did not know.
Memories flooded her mind: She had been ten years old, when she had to play the first time for her at the Saint Petersburg Conservatory. She remembered only too well when she had walked the imperious stairwell of the building, which had been erected in 1862, at the hand of her mother, she had clasped her cold hand tightly – craving for solace, but she got none.
Yesterday she had been told today she would meet her new teacher. And her mother had made it very clear to her “Do not bring shame on the family” Bringing shame on the family was a sin, not to be forgiven in the most noble and ancient house of Romanov.
Anna had felt awkward and insecure: She was very tall for her age, skinny and her classmates had always mocked her, because of her ancestry: She was “the Romanova” to Anna that name sounded like a curse.
They had stood before a large, double winged door; her mother had sternly told her once more “Go in. Keep yourself upright. And do not forget: don´t bring shame on your family!” as if the young girl had needed that not so subtle reminder “Yes mother” Anna nodded automatically, out of habit - and stepped tentatively over the threshold.
When she entered Tatiana Nikolaeva’s office, the gaunt austere looking teacher had scrutinized her with cold grey eyes “So you are the young Romanova” her voice was as cold as her grey eyes “Warm up girl and let us see, if you are really so talented as they say. Lesson number one: Talent without practise and dedication is nothing. Remember that always!”
When Anna had finished her warm up, she had been told curtly “Play the chaconne!” The young girl did “That was good child” Nikolajeva had told her coldly after Anna had finished “but it was not good enough, you can do better; play it again – I will interrupt you this time whenever you make an error”
And she had interrupted Anna many times.
On this day Anna had played the Chaconne fifteen times – and hated her new teacher with passion since then.
As her bow touched the strings a stream of pictures flooded Anna´s mind. She could not and she made no effort to control them. She continued to play. The pictures of today would be with her - always. They were ingrained in her mind. And she hated Anck-Sun-Amun for that.
Another memory crossed her mind: Another time, the same room. The older Anna set her bow down. She had just finished the chaconne. Tatiana Nikolajeva clapped her hands “This was really good Anna. Child you have gone a long way” Her face grew serious. Anna had never seen that look on her face “Anna Alexandrovna Romanova you are the talent of a generation. I know you must hate me, because I have been so hard on you. But it was all for the best. Maybe you will see that in time”
The present:
Anna did not sense that her two friends entered the library, so immersed she was in her grief. The Russian felt the lush carpet under her soles, but she was not cold. She had don two pairs of thick woollen socks on her feet before she had gone to the library. Anna had Chris told once that she had to feel the ground under her feet, to feel connected.
The Russian felt guilt. Guilt and hate: Guilt that her former teacher had been killed because of her, hate because what that woman had done to her. Nofret had killed her with her violin “And I will always remember that” Anna thought
Anna had finished the chaconne but continued to play, a slight modulation and Anna played a Russian lullaby – effortless the violinist changed tune again. Chris recognized it, it was a Hebrew Song “Yerushalayim shel zahav” – and she felt this was Anna´s final tribute to her teacher, who had been Jewish, Chris knew the lyrics by heart she had accompanied her friend several times, when the Russian had practised the song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nk6pcXAXCU&t=1s
Yerushalayim Shel Zahav (Instrumental) - Raphael Batista
The mountain air is clear as wine
And the scent of pines
Is carried on the breeze of twilight
With the sound of bells.
And in the slumber of tree and stone
Captured in her dream
The city that sits solitary
And in its midst is a wall.
Jerusalem of gold,
and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin
for all your songs.
We have returned to the cisterns
To the market and to the market-place
A ram’s horn calls out
on the Temple Mount
In the Old City.
And in the caves in the mountain
Thousands of suns shine -
We will once again descend to the Dead Sea
By way of Jericho!
Jerusalem of gold,
and of bronze and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.
But as I come to sing to you today,
And to adorn crowns to you
I am the smallest of the youngest
of your children
And of the last poet
For your name scorches the lips
Like the kiss of a seraph
If I forget thee, Jerusalem,
Which is all gold…
Jerusalem of gold, and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.
The last tone of Anna´s violin resounded in the air. The Russian put down her bow and looked up. Her eyes were filled with tears. Chris and Kate got up and closed the distance, but gave their friend space:
Anna laid the violin down, gently and carefully – like a lover would lay his partner to rest. Gently she touched the wood, which was still warm, where it had rested against her body, she caressed the warm wood “Thank you Tatiana” she whispered softly and spoke in Hebrew the words of the Mourner´s Kaddish.
When she had ended something became clear to her:
Only in those dreadful hours in the vault she had realized fully what the Stradivarius meant to her. The Stradivarius was her. She was the Stradivarius. And Tatiana Nikolajeva had known this from the beginning. Chris and Kate hugged her tightly as her tears flowed freely and sobs shook her body.
As they slowly subsided, Anna felt save. She had friends who would do anything for her, who had done anything for her. She looked at Chris´ pale face at the gash above her left brow, at Kate, who had become the best of friends one could wish for – both had gone above and beyond to save her without any hesitation.
The Russian pulled herself together, her eyes clear now. She strode to the bar and filled three shot glasses with a clear colourless liquid “This is in my opinion the best Russian Vodka “Jewel of Russia Ultra Black Label” she explained and the ghost of the smallest of smiles curled her lips.
Kate and Chris took one each, Anna the third. She raised it “To Tatiana!” “To Tatiana!” her friends rang back. They clanked glasses and downed the vodka straight. Chris felt the alcohol burning her throat, her eyes mustering her friend keenly.
Anna felt overwhelmed but two of the people she cared about most were there. And it was as if Kate had read her thoughts “We will bring Anck-Sun-Amun to justice!” “Together” Chris added calmly “Together” Anna agreed.
The Egyptian Desert around the same time:
The High Priestess wanted to scream. Romanova had gotten away – again! True she enjoyed the Russian´s suffering very much. Truth to be told it had aroused her: watching Anna´s struggles.
Her fighting spirit, her hot hate, and then von der Marwitz Team had disturbed the party in exactly the wrong moment, when Romanova had lost the fight – the dammed Canadian had reacted very fast – and the other members of von der Marwitz Team had acted without hesitation.
And then The Black Lady had stepped in front of her, her dark eyes drilling into hers “Listen bitch! I have news for you ….” On the list of her enemies the thief ranked third: After Romanova and von der Marwitz. She had no doubt that the Canadian had spoken the truth. She had meant every word: Nofret was a good fighter but against a furious von der Marwitz ….
While Anck-Sun-Amun regretted Nofret´s death she had taken this end always into account. Had Nofret been taken captive again she probably would have spilled the beans – at some point. So her knowledge had died with her. Her contacts had told her, that Nofret had not betrayed their cause, since she had been captured at Highclere Castle.
And a smile curled the High-Priestesses lips: She and the Grand Vizier had already divulged a plan to full fill Pharaoh´s wishes … this Game was not over: In fact it had barely begun.
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
[mention]Caesar73[/mention], your selection of music is impeccable. This could be the most emotional chapter that you have written. Kudos!
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
-
slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2616
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
Quit a difference in chapters, this one reflective, healing, as GreyLord said, emotional, while the previous one was so violent. It shows that reflection on things that happened is part of a healing process.
Well written, great selection of music.
Well written, great selection of music.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
[mention]slackywacky[/mention] you are absolutely right. This chapter is a reflective one, and Anna´s healing has started, we have seen in "The Copycat" that dealing with this Traumata is a lenghty processs, but Anna is strong and she has the best friends one can wish for.
[mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] l [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Hayley stole a glance at Kirst: Her companion at the wheel of the obsidian black Mercedes GLC 400e drove controlled and evenly. They were headed north: Norfolk. Their destination was Warham five miles from Wells-next-the-sea, a small village with 193 souls, where they had booked a room at the local pub, “The Three Horseshoes” Her partner had spoken little since they had departed from Hall Place Manor. She seemed to be lost in thought. Hayley thoughts wandered back to the previous evening:
Evie, Sophie, Kirsty and Hayley had commandeered the Billiard Room- Sophie, who had studied for a year at Cambridge had proposed to play Snooker. Now Kirsty stood at the left pocket, taking aim with her cue. She had to pott the red ball that lay roughly in the middle of the table in the pocket diagonally across her.
Hayley had never seen such a large billiard table: 12ft x 6 ft. The Briton took aim a final time and sent the white ball on its journey. The white ball hit the red ball which fell into the pocket.
“Wow where did you learn that Kirsty?” the blonde sounded impressed “Where I come from there was not much else to do – and when I could afford it I played at the local pub” Kirsty explained “Anything was better than to endure the constant bickering of my parents” she added after a moment.
Hayley was intrigued. So far Kirsty had not spoken much about her upbringing and family, the blonde had deduced though that it must have been a hard time: Why should have Kirsty at 18, joined the army and later Crawford´s organization otherwise.
Theirs, Kirsty´s and hers mutual background could not be more different: Hayley had been born into a wealthy influential old east coast family in the States which meant expensive private schools with all the perks and later an exclusive college.
As far as Hayley knew Kirsty had dropped out of school at 16 and ran away. The American did not know exactly what Kirsty had done in London for a living till she joined the army, but those two years had been no walk in the park she was sure.
She looked at Kirsty “Why don´t you show me?” “Show you what?” Kirsty concentrated on the next stroke “Show me where you have grown up I mean, till Evie and Amanda have translated the scrolls we have nothing to do – and I wouldn´t mind to see a bit more of the UK anyway – not just cellars and dungeons” Hayley smiled that dazzling smile of hers.
For a long moment her lover had said nothing, then she nodded “We can do that, but don´t expect too much” And Hayley knew Kirsty good enough by now, to notice her slight hesitation, she seemed to be anything but thrilled by the prospect returning home.
Chris had had no objections “You are big girls just give us a call every day – and never leave your gun at home!” With a lopsided grin she added “Do try not to get kidnapped Hayley will you?”
And so they had hit the road after lunch – outwardly Kirsty had been calm but Hayley sensed the underlying tension “I didn´t want to pressure you” she offered, Kirsty sighed “You did not pressure me Hayley – but I have been away for over 20 years. Just don´t expect a rousing welcome party”
“You mean because of us?” “Not only: I doubt that my family is very keen on me showing up” Kirsty sighed. Hayley smiled “As Chris said I am a big girl and I can handle that” “Just don´t say I did not warn you” and this time the Briton smiled too – well it was a ghost of a smile, but it was a start “Consider me warned” Hayley smiled. [...]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Chapter 60
“A long and winding road”
or:
“A trip down memory lane”
The next day: Early Afternoon on the A 11 near Cambridge:
“A long and winding road”
or:
“A trip down memory lane”
The next day: Early Afternoon on the A 11 near Cambridge:
Hayley stole a glance at Kirst: Her companion at the wheel of the obsidian black Mercedes GLC 400e drove controlled and evenly. They were headed north: Norfolk. Their destination was Warham five miles from Wells-next-the-sea, a small village with 193 souls, where they had booked a room at the local pub, “The Three Horseshoes” Her partner had spoken little since they had departed from Hall Place Manor. She seemed to be lost in thought. Hayley thoughts wandered back to the previous evening:
Evie, Sophie, Kirsty and Hayley had commandeered the Billiard Room- Sophie, who had studied for a year at Cambridge had proposed to play Snooker. Now Kirsty stood at the left pocket, taking aim with her cue. She had to pott the red ball that lay roughly in the middle of the table in the pocket diagonally across her.
Hayley had never seen such a large billiard table: 12ft x 6 ft. The Briton took aim a final time and sent the white ball on its journey. The white ball hit the red ball which fell into the pocket.
“Wow where did you learn that Kirsty?” the blonde sounded impressed “Where I come from there was not much else to do – and when I could afford it I played at the local pub” Kirsty explained “Anything was better than to endure the constant bickering of my parents” she added after a moment.
Hayley was intrigued. So far Kirsty had not spoken much about her upbringing and family, the blonde had deduced though that it must have been a hard time: Why should have Kirsty at 18, joined the army and later Crawford´s organization otherwise.
Theirs, Kirsty´s and hers mutual background could not be more different: Hayley had been born into a wealthy influential old east coast family in the States which meant expensive private schools with all the perks and later an exclusive college.
As far as Hayley knew Kirsty had dropped out of school at 16 and ran away. The American did not know exactly what Kirsty had done in London for a living till she joined the army, but those two years had been no walk in the park she was sure.
She looked at Kirsty “Why don´t you show me?” “Show you what?” Kirsty concentrated on the next stroke “Show me where you have grown up I mean, till Evie and Amanda have translated the scrolls we have nothing to do – and I wouldn´t mind to see a bit more of the UK anyway – not just cellars and dungeons” Hayley smiled that dazzling smile of hers.
For a long moment her lover had said nothing, then she nodded “We can do that, but don´t expect too much” And Hayley knew Kirsty good enough by now, to notice her slight hesitation, she seemed to be anything but thrilled by the prospect returning home.
Chris had had no objections “You are big girls just give us a call every day – and never leave your gun at home!” With a lopsided grin she added “Do try not to get kidnapped Hayley will you?”
And so they had hit the road after lunch – outwardly Kirsty had been calm but Hayley sensed the underlying tension “I didn´t want to pressure you” she offered, Kirsty sighed “You did not pressure me Hayley – but I have been away for over 20 years. Just don´t expect a rousing welcome party”
“You mean because of us?” “Not only: I doubt that my family is very keen on me showing up” Kirsty sighed. Hayley smiled “As Chris said I am a big girl and I can handle that” “Just don´t say I did not warn you” and this time the Briton smiled too – well it was a ghost of a smile, but it was a start “Consider me warned” Hayley smiled. [...]
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 2 times in total.
Short, but very heavy on tension, [mention]Caesar73[/mention].
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
That was the intention of this preview [mention]GreyLord[/mention]
The full chapter will shed more light on events to come. Chapter 60 is due tomorrow![mention]GreyLord[/mention] [mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]banshee[/mention] [mention]Beaumains[/mention] [mention]Bigballgag1[/mention] [mention]Trammel[/mention] l [mention]wolfman[/mention] [mention]mrjones2009[/mention] [mention]slackywacky[/mention] [mention]Nainur[/mention] [mention]TightsBound[/mention] [mention]Pantyhose971[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]NotSeen[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention]
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Hayley stole a glance at Kirsty: Her companion at the wheel of the obsidian black Mercedes GLC 400e drove controlled and evenly. They were headed north: Norfolk. Their destination was Warham five miles from Wells-next-the-sea, a small village with 193 souls, where they had booked a room at the local pub, “The Three Horseshoes” Her partner had spoken little since they had departed from Hall Place Manor. She seemed to be lost in thought. Hayley thoughts wandered back to the previous evening:
Evie, Sophie, Kirsty and Hayley had commandeered the Billiard Room- Sophie, who had studied for a year at Cambridge had proposed to play Snooker. Now Kirsty stood at the left pocket, taking aim with her cue. She had to pott the red ball that lay roughly in the middle of the table in the pocket diagonally across her.
Hayley had never seen such a large billiard table: 12ft x 6 ft. The Briton took aim a final time and sent the white ball on its journey. The white ball hit the red ball which fell into the pocket.
“Wow where did you learn that Kirsty?” the blonde sounded impressed “Where I come from there was not much else to do – and when I could afford it I played at the local pub” Kirsty explained “Anything was better than to endure the constant bickering of my parents” she added after a moment.
Hayley was intrigued. So far Kirsty had not spoken much about her upbringing and family, the blonde had deduced though that it must have been a hard time: Why should have Kirsty at 18, joined the army and later Crawford´s organization otherwise.
Theirs, Kirsty´s and hers mutual background could not be more different: Hayley had been born into a wealthy influential old east coast family in the States which meant expensive private schools with all the perks and later an exclusive college.
As far as Hayley knew Kirsty had dropped out of school at 16 and ran away. The American did not know exactly what Kirsty had done in London for a living till she joined the army, but those two years had been no walk in the park she was sure.
She looked at Kirsty “Why don´t you show me?” “Show you what?” Kirsty concentrated on the next stroke “Show me where you have grown up I mean, till Evie and Amanda have translated the scrolls we have nothing to do – and I wouldn´t mind to see a bit more of the UK anyway – not just cellars and dungeons” Hayley smiled that dazzling smile of hers.
For a long moment her lover had said nothing, then she nodded “We can do that, but don´t expect too much” And Hayley knew Kirsty good enough by now, to notice her slight hesitation, she seemed to be anything but thrilled by the prospect returning home.
Chris had had no objections “You are big girls just give us a call every day – and never leave your gun at home!” With a lopsided grin she added “Do try not to get kidnapped Hayley will you?”
And so they had hit the road after lunch – outwardly Kirsty had been calm but Hayley sensed the underlying tension “I didn´t want to pressure you” she offered, Kirsty sighed “You did not pressure me Hayley – but I have been away for over 20 years. Just don´t expect a rousing welcome party”
“You mean because of us?” “Not only: I doubt that my family is very keen on me showing up” Kirsty sighed. Hayley smiled “As Chris said I am a big girl and I can handle that” “Just don´t say I did not warn you” and this time the Briton smiled too – well it was a ghost of a smile, but it was a start “Consider me warned” Hayley smiled.
Two hours later:
Oliva Dunhope was curious as she heard car doors closing. That must be the two new guests who had booked the Holkham room on short notice by a Misses Hayley King for a three night´s stay and payed in advance.
The door swung open and two women entered: A tall blonde with a warm smile. Her auburn haired companion was equally tall “Hello!” the blonde greeted friendly “I am Hayley King and this is Kirsty Garrett” she gestured at the other woman “I booked a room for us two”
Indeed an American the young woman thought, and the Name “Garrett” rang a bell – could it be … it cost her much self-control not to ask if Kirsty Garrett was related to the Garrett´s owning the Farm just at the other end of St. Binham Road. There had been rumours that the old Garrett had beaten his wife and children too.
Since the oldest son Brian, had taken over 10 years ago or so the farm prospered. Olivia was a keen observer and so she sensed that there was something about the two women, who must be in their early 30´s. There was some intimacy between them. Could it be, was it possible ….that those two were a couple?
The blonde seemed to be quite amused by the barely hidden curiosity of the receptionist “Our Key´s please?”
When they were alone in their room Kirsty and Hayley burst into laughter “Her eyes fell almost out of her head. Did you see how she looked at me?” Hayley laughed “I guess, we will be quite the talk this evening” “You bet” Kirsty agreed. She took a look around:
Their room had been renovated lately obviously and had a large bathroom “We have our own entrance” Hayley noted “so we can come and go as we please “Let us freshen up, rest a bit and then grab a bite”
“Right” Kirsty nodded and stretched, something snapped audibly “Have you seen the bathroom? I could use a shower and a massage of my poor back” Hayley smiled mischievously “Hayley King at your service”
Later:
Kirsty and Haley stood before the door to the main room the typical noises of a pub could be heard. Animated chatter, clanking glasses, shouted orders. Kirsty fidgeted “I cannot do this” “Wait” Hayley smiled “The woman who served in Afghanistan three times dares not to enter what? A pub? Honey, you can sleep on the couch tonight!”
Kirsty pulled herself together “Right, let´s do this – let us give the locals a good show!” Hayley smiled “That´s my girl!” Decisively Kirsty pulled the door open. As the two women entered the pub, all chatter died down “We surely know how to make an entrance” Haley whispered in Kirsty´s left ear. Kirsty felt the eyes of anybody resting on them.
As soon as they had been seated – out of habit they had chosen a table for two in a corner from which they could watch the whole room. Kirsty and Hayley had barely taken their seats, the chatter resumed but Hayley felt the occasional glance resting on her and Kirsty – she smiled to herself “What” Kirsty asked “I wonder what they would say, if they knew we have each a loaded gun in our handbags “They would wet their pants” the Briton smiled and let her right hand rest on Hayley´s left and looked Hayley deeply in her piercing blue eyes.
“Did you recognize any familiar face?” Kirsty shook her head “And I am glad that my older brother did not show up – and Hayley?” “Yes?” the American grinned “Quite a few manly customers are staring at your breasts” “Jealous?” the grin of the blonde was contagious “Absolutely not” Kirsty smiled “I know I can touch them, whenever I want – they don´t”
To herself Kirsty thought “I could lose myself in those blue eyes” If she thought about it their relationship was a wonder. Once enemies, then unlikely allies – and companions at last “We have to thank Crawford after all”
“What are you smiling about” Hayley interrupted her “I just thought we have to thank Elizabeth Crawford for her obsession with you – without her we wouldn´t be together” The blonde grinned “That is worth a toast” and rose her glass “To Crawford!” “To Crawford!” Kirsty chimed in and they clanked glasses. Hayley savoured the rich taste of the red wine from Burgundy “Who would have thought of that? Me of all people toasting to Crawford?”
They drank in silence.
For a while they enjoyed the meal. Words were not necessary.
Suddenly Hayley´s neck hairs rose “Don´t turn around Hayley” Kirsty smiled at her “There is someone in the left corner keenly observing us” “I know” Hayley smiled back “I see his image reflecting in the window”
When she looked the next time, the man was gone.
The food was excellent. Hayley had opted for starters with the smoked mackerel plate, the Beef Burger as main course and the cheese plate “The Burger was soo delicious” she sighed contently as she laid the cutlery aside “The cuisine is quite good” Kirsty agreed who had had three Arthur Howell’s traditional pork sausages, creamy mashed potatoes, summer greens and onion gravy. Hayley found she was slightly tipsy: they had ordered champaign for aperitif, a bottle of red wine to dinner and a cognac afterwards.
“You might have to help me to get to our room” she whispered her eyes bright “Of course Madam” Kirsty grinned.
This evening had gone quite well “I am lucky to have her” she looked with affection at Hayley. She sighed: tomorrow she would have to face her family. But that was tomorrow. Today was – well today”
Unknown location around the same time:
The man in the arm chair savoured the taste of the 16 years old Single malt as his phone rang “Yes?” he answered the call “Two new guests you say – an American and a Kirsty Garrett?” The man at the other end spoke “You think this is the daughter of the old Garrett?” He listened “Keep an eye on them and keep me posted” The man ended the call and stared into the fire.
If this was really the daughter of the old Garrett? That could cause a problem. Tomorrow he would make some calls “And she is there with another woman” His contact had told him he believed that the American and Garrett were a couple “Who would have thought of that” he mused “The old Garrett would be spinning in his grave if he knew his wayward daughter had turned lesbian – but Kirsty, you always liked to experiment” A smile curled his lips.
If she would pose a problem she had to be dealt with.
Kirsty and Hayley´s room, outside:
The man cursed inwardly as he shrank back into the shadows. As he had crept near the window of Kirsty´s and Hayley´s room two things had happened simultaneously: A sudden flash blinded him – as from a camera. And as he touched the window he got a nasty shock “Damned!” Same happened at the other window – he did not see it, but his every move was recorded. Kirsty and Hayley had taken some precautions – and a few more.
Kirsty and Hayley´s room, inside:
Hayley tugged playfully at the silken shawls which held her on the bed: In a tight but not entirely uncomfortable spread eagle she laid on the bed, the mattress was soft. The American heard Kirsty busy in the bathroom. When they had closed and locked the door of their room Kirsty had “attacked” her – not that she resisted much – and stripped her down to her matching set of bright red bra and panties and nude hose “You fiend what are you doing to me!” “Securing you, you vixen” Kirsty had whispered in her ear “you are dangerous!” And Kirsty had secured Hayley with her usual efficiency: Besides the spread eagle she had blindfolded Hayley with another shawl.
The blonde chewed on a large silken wad – a silken shawl and a pair of panties – used ones. And Hayley knew the taste. Her head was hooded with another pair of panties. She groaned softly into her mouth filling gag. As much as she despised Elizabeth Crawford: The criminal had had a point when she had told her once “I know that you like to be a damsel in distress”
There was indeed a part of Hayley King who loved being a damsel in distress. Her captor had applied a crotch scarf with several knots: Hayley moaned she grated her hips. Kirsty looked down with longing on the writhing Hayley.
Her skin was shimmering with sweat. The Briton just could not resist; she bowed down grabbed the American´s left foot firmly with one hand and tickled Hayley with the other under her high arches.
Soon Hayley was trashing around on the bed. Giggling into her gag, trying to get her sensible sole out of harm´s way, but Kirsty held firm “No, not between the toes!” Hayley screamed into her gag. Soon she was red faced and flustered. Finally Kirsty let go. The blonde was breathing heavily. Kirsty looked with deep affection down on Hayley. She was such an alluring sight – and a beautiful soul.
With a wicked grin Kirsty grabbed Hayley´s right foot ….
[mention]Bandit666[/mention] [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention]
Chapter 60
“A long and winding road”
or:
“A trip down memory lane”
The next day: Early Afternoon on the A 11 near Cambridge:
“A long and winding road”
or:
“A trip down memory lane”
The next day: Early Afternoon on the A 11 near Cambridge:
Hayley stole a glance at Kirsty: Her companion at the wheel of the obsidian black Mercedes GLC 400e drove controlled and evenly. They were headed north: Norfolk. Their destination was Warham five miles from Wells-next-the-sea, a small village with 193 souls, where they had booked a room at the local pub, “The Three Horseshoes” Her partner had spoken little since they had departed from Hall Place Manor. She seemed to be lost in thought. Hayley thoughts wandered back to the previous evening:
Evie, Sophie, Kirsty and Hayley had commandeered the Billiard Room- Sophie, who had studied for a year at Cambridge had proposed to play Snooker. Now Kirsty stood at the left pocket, taking aim with her cue. She had to pott the red ball that lay roughly in the middle of the table in the pocket diagonally across her.
Hayley had never seen such a large billiard table: 12ft x 6 ft. The Briton took aim a final time and sent the white ball on its journey. The white ball hit the red ball which fell into the pocket.
“Wow where did you learn that Kirsty?” the blonde sounded impressed “Where I come from there was not much else to do – and when I could afford it I played at the local pub” Kirsty explained “Anything was better than to endure the constant bickering of my parents” she added after a moment.
Hayley was intrigued. So far Kirsty had not spoken much about her upbringing and family, the blonde had deduced though that it must have been a hard time: Why should have Kirsty at 18, joined the army and later Crawford´s organization otherwise.
Theirs, Kirsty´s and hers mutual background could not be more different: Hayley had been born into a wealthy influential old east coast family in the States which meant expensive private schools with all the perks and later an exclusive college.
As far as Hayley knew Kirsty had dropped out of school at 16 and ran away. The American did not know exactly what Kirsty had done in London for a living till she joined the army, but those two years had been no walk in the park she was sure.
She looked at Kirsty “Why don´t you show me?” “Show you what?” Kirsty concentrated on the next stroke “Show me where you have grown up I mean, till Evie and Amanda have translated the scrolls we have nothing to do – and I wouldn´t mind to see a bit more of the UK anyway – not just cellars and dungeons” Hayley smiled that dazzling smile of hers.
For a long moment her lover had said nothing, then she nodded “We can do that, but don´t expect too much” And Hayley knew Kirsty good enough by now, to notice her slight hesitation, she seemed to be anything but thrilled by the prospect returning home.
Chris had had no objections “You are big girls just give us a call every day – and never leave your gun at home!” With a lopsided grin she added “Do try not to get kidnapped Hayley will you?”
And so they had hit the road after lunch – outwardly Kirsty had been calm but Hayley sensed the underlying tension “I didn´t want to pressure you” she offered, Kirsty sighed “You did not pressure me Hayley – but I have been away for over 20 years. Just don´t expect a rousing welcome party”
“You mean because of us?” “Not only: I doubt that my family is very keen on me showing up” Kirsty sighed. Hayley smiled “As Chris said I am a big girl and I can handle that” “Just don´t say I did not warn you” and this time the Briton smiled too – well it was a ghost of a smile, but it was a start “Consider me warned” Hayley smiled.
Two hours later:
Oliva Dunhope was curious as she heard car doors closing. That must be the two new guests who had booked the Holkham room on short notice by a Misses Hayley King for a three night´s stay and payed in advance.
The door swung open and two women entered: A tall blonde with a warm smile. Her auburn haired companion was equally tall “Hello!” the blonde greeted friendly “I am Hayley King and this is Kirsty Garrett” she gestured at the other woman “I booked a room for us two”
Indeed an American the young woman thought, and the Name “Garrett” rang a bell – could it be … it cost her much self-control not to ask if Kirsty Garrett was related to the Garrett´s owning the Farm just at the other end of St. Binham Road. There had been rumours that the old Garrett had beaten his wife and children too.
Since the oldest son Brian, had taken over 10 years ago or so the farm prospered. Olivia was a keen observer and so she sensed that there was something about the two women, who must be in their early 30´s. There was some intimacy between them. Could it be, was it possible ….that those two were a couple?
The blonde seemed to be quite amused by the barely hidden curiosity of the receptionist “Our Key´s please?”
When they were alone in their room Kirsty and Hayley burst into laughter “Her eyes fell almost out of her head. Did you see how she looked at me?” Hayley laughed “I guess, we will be quite the talk this evening” “You bet” Kirsty agreed. She took a look around:
Their room had been renovated lately obviously and had a large bathroom “We have our own entrance” Hayley noted “so we can come and go as we please “Let us freshen up, rest a bit and then grab a bite”
“Right” Kirsty nodded and stretched, something snapped audibly “Have you seen the bathroom? I could use a shower and a massage of my poor back” Hayley smiled mischievously “Hayley King at your service”
Later:
Kirsty and Haley stood before the door to the main room the typical noises of a pub could be heard. Animated chatter, clanking glasses, shouted orders. Kirsty fidgeted “I cannot do this” “Wait” Hayley smiled “The woman who served in Afghanistan three times dares not to enter what? A pub? Honey, you can sleep on the couch tonight!”
Kirsty pulled herself together “Right, let´s do this – let us give the locals a good show!” Hayley smiled “That´s my girl!” Decisively Kirsty pulled the door open. As the two women entered the pub, all chatter died down “We surely know how to make an entrance” Haley whispered in Kirsty´s left ear. Kirsty felt the eyes of anybody resting on them.
As soon as they had been seated – out of habit they had chosen a table for two in a corner from which they could watch the whole room. Kirsty and Hayley had barely taken their seats, the chatter resumed but Hayley felt the occasional glance resting on her and Kirsty – she smiled to herself “What” Kirsty asked “I wonder what they would say, if they knew we have each a loaded gun in our handbags “They would wet their pants” the Briton smiled and let her right hand rest on Hayley´s left and looked Hayley deeply in her piercing blue eyes.
“Did you recognize any familiar face?” Kirsty shook her head “And I am glad that my older brother did not show up – and Hayley?” “Yes?” the American grinned “Quite a few manly customers are staring at your breasts” “Jealous?” the grin of the blonde was contagious “Absolutely not” Kirsty smiled “I know I can touch them, whenever I want – they don´t”
To herself Kirsty thought “I could lose myself in those blue eyes” If she thought about it their relationship was a wonder. Once enemies, then unlikely allies – and companions at last “We have to thank Crawford after all”
“What are you smiling about” Hayley interrupted her “I just thought we have to thank Elizabeth Crawford for her obsession with you – without her we wouldn´t be together” The blonde grinned “That is worth a toast” and rose her glass “To Crawford!” “To Crawford!” Kirsty chimed in and they clanked glasses. Hayley savoured the rich taste of the red wine from Burgundy “Who would have thought of that? Me of all people toasting to Crawford?”
They drank in silence.
For a while they enjoyed the meal. Words were not necessary.
Suddenly Hayley´s neck hairs rose “Don´t turn around Hayley” Kirsty smiled at her “There is someone in the left corner keenly observing us” “I know” Hayley smiled back “I see his image reflecting in the window”
When she looked the next time, the man was gone.
The food was excellent. Hayley had opted for starters with the smoked mackerel plate, the Beef Burger as main course and the cheese plate “The Burger was soo delicious” she sighed contently as she laid the cutlery aside “The cuisine is quite good” Kirsty agreed who had had three Arthur Howell’s traditional pork sausages, creamy mashed potatoes, summer greens and onion gravy. Hayley found she was slightly tipsy: they had ordered champaign for aperitif, a bottle of red wine to dinner and a cognac afterwards.
“You might have to help me to get to our room” she whispered her eyes bright “Of course Madam” Kirsty grinned.
This evening had gone quite well “I am lucky to have her” she looked with affection at Hayley. She sighed: tomorrow she would have to face her family. But that was tomorrow. Today was – well today”
Unknown location around the same time:
The man in the arm chair savoured the taste of the 16 years old Single malt as his phone rang “Yes?” he answered the call “Two new guests you say – an American and a Kirsty Garrett?” The man at the other end spoke “You think this is the daughter of the old Garrett?” He listened “Keep an eye on them and keep me posted” The man ended the call and stared into the fire.
If this was really the daughter of the old Garrett? That could cause a problem. Tomorrow he would make some calls “And she is there with another woman” His contact had told him he believed that the American and Garrett were a couple “Who would have thought of that” he mused “The old Garrett would be spinning in his grave if he knew his wayward daughter had turned lesbian – but Kirsty, you always liked to experiment” A smile curled his lips.
If she would pose a problem she had to be dealt with.
Kirsty and Hayley´s room, outside:
The man cursed inwardly as he shrank back into the shadows. As he had crept near the window of Kirsty´s and Hayley´s room two things had happened simultaneously: A sudden flash blinded him – as from a camera. And as he touched the window he got a nasty shock “Damned!” Same happened at the other window – he did not see it, but his every move was recorded. Kirsty and Hayley had taken some precautions – and a few more.
Kirsty and Hayley´s room, inside:
Hayley tugged playfully at the silken shawls which held her on the bed: In a tight but not entirely uncomfortable spread eagle she laid on the bed, the mattress was soft. The American heard Kirsty busy in the bathroom. When they had closed and locked the door of their room Kirsty had “attacked” her – not that she resisted much – and stripped her down to her matching set of bright red bra and panties and nude hose “You fiend what are you doing to me!” “Securing you, you vixen” Kirsty had whispered in her ear “you are dangerous!” And Kirsty had secured Hayley with her usual efficiency: Besides the spread eagle she had blindfolded Hayley with another shawl.
The blonde chewed on a large silken wad – a silken shawl and a pair of panties – used ones. And Hayley knew the taste. Her head was hooded with another pair of panties. She groaned softly into her mouth filling gag. As much as she despised Elizabeth Crawford: The criminal had had a point when she had told her once “I know that you like to be a damsel in distress”
There was indeed a part of Hayley King who loved being a damsel in distress. Her captor had applied a crotch scarf with several knots: Hayley moaned she grated her hips. Kirsty looked down with longing on the writhing Hayley.
Her skin was shimmering with sweat. The Briton just could not resist; she bowed down grabbed the American´s left foot firmly with one hand and tickled Hayley with the other under her high arches.
Soon Hayley was trashing around on the bed. Giggling into her gag, trying to get her sensible sole out of harm´s way, but Kirsty held firm “No, not between the toes!” Hayley screamed into her gag. Soon she was red faced and flustered. Finally Kirsty let go. The blonde was breathing heavily. Kirsty looked with deep affection down on Hayley. She was such an alluring sight – and a beautiful soul.
With a wicked grin Kirsty grabbed Hayley´s right foot ….
Last edited by Caesar73 1 year ago, edited 2 times in total.
We clearly have much to learn about Kirsty. Looking forward to it!
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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mrjones2009
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Bravo! Just the right level of intrigue!
My two favourite characters take a trip. But, wait who is interested in them!
Can't wait for the next chapter!
My two favourite characters take a trip. But, wait who is interested in them!
Can't wait for the next chapter!
Thank you!
Chapter 61
“An unfriendly welcome”
The three Horseshoes midmorning:
“An unfriendly welcome”
The three Horseshoes midmorning:
Hayley leaned back contentedly and sighed “The breakfast was excellent” she had chosen the continental variant and watched with barely hidden amusement as Kirsty devoured her second helping of bacon and scrambled eggs “What!” the Briton´s eyebrows rose “Oh nothing” the blonde grinned sweetly “I just wondered how you could eat this stuff for breakfast” she pointed at the leftovers of British breakfast on Kirsty´s plate “Blood pudding!” she shuddered “I have thought about something” she changed tack “So” Kirsty smiled “Have you – and that despite the fact you are a blonde”
“I have thought” Hayley continued unabashed “if it might be better if you see your brother alone – there might be less tensions” The Briton pondered the idea “Why?” “Well” Hayley explained “You have seen yesterday that we caused quite the commotion – not that I regret that” she smiled coyly “This is a small village – and I bet your brother already knows you are back – with another woman: he might feel less challenged if you come alone”
Kirsty still not felt convinced “I have” she corrected herself “we have nothing to hide” “No, we don´t Kirsty” the blonde laid her hand gently on her companions right “but if we show up together, your brother might feel overwhelmed”
For a while the auburn haired woman said nothing, finally she nodded “Okay, let us do it that way – then she smiled “You know Hayley, for a blonde you are really bright!”
Hayley pouted “Ah poor baby!” Kirsty mocked her.
30 Minutes later Hayley watched Kirsty striding down the St. Binham Road. Upright, decisively – but the set of her shoulders betrayed her lover´s uneasiness. The Briton wore sturdy brown knee high leather-boots, blue jeans and a waist long down jacket whose colour matched her hair.
Hayley had finished her warm up exercises. She had decided to follow the road that passed the All Saints Church. It was chilly and a stiff breeze blew from the sea. Her long blonde hair she tucked under a bright red woollen cap, her Jacket matched its colour. Black Leggings and her beloved running shoes completed her outfit.
She began to run in a low pace and accelerated slowly. Kirsty had told her that she would find an Iron Age Hillfort on her right side when she followed that track. The blonde accelerated to a brisk pace. After 10 Minutes she could see the Hillfort in the distance. Hayley could not shake the feeling that she was followed – but she could detect nobody.
In the meantime Kirsty stood before Garrett-Farm. But she didn´t recognize the place. The small dilapidated Farm House where she had grown up was gone: In its place stood a three winged complex: a large modern Farmhouse in its centre, flanked on each side by buildings that looked like barns and stables to her untrained eye. All seemed to be well maintained.
For a moment Kirsty just took in the sight. Obviously her brother had done well – and she felt a twinge of regret “Get a grip!” she admonished herself. Kirsty pulled herself together and strode across the yard, the gravel scrunched under the soles of her boots. Finally she stood in front of a green wooden door.
Kirsty took a deep breath and pressed the bell button. At first nothing happened then she heard the sounds of wooden clogs nearing the door – she frowned “Brian wearing clogs?” No way! The door swung open [...]
Exciting and well described. As always, I'm looking forward to your next episode.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23