The characters belong to Shed Productions.
This contains, violence, sex, nudity and strong language. (18)
Do not read it if you are offended by the aforementioned. It has not yet been beta'd. I am happy to accept feedback openly by readers.



CLEAN SKIN

Prologue

His body slammed with a dull thud against the dirty concrete. He heard a grinding of fractured bone in his left arm and pain began to radiate over his chest and abdomen where the boot had made contact. He lay still, hoping that by doing so he might be left alone. But he was not so lucky. Another blow fell, this time striking sideways across his face drawing blood from his nose and mouth. He tasted it, the metallic signal of danger dripped from his lips and he groaned in protest, to no avail. The tall man towered over his huddled figure and grinned. Michael’s heart drummed uncontrollably in his chest. His pride dissipated entirely as tears flowed warmly down his grimy cheeks.

“So how do you like it so far, Mikey?” he teased cruelly.

Michael lay shaking and sobbing, his breaths wheezing heavily in and out of his burning lungs. His uniform was soiled with his own blood and urine and whatever foul dirt it was that clung to the floor of this stone hell. He began to realize that his chances of leaving this dank isolated room or being found were waning as every minute passed. He considered screaming, but knew it would be pointless and may only antagonize the evil bastard who was now rummaging in a grubby box in the corner of the room. Michael tried to roll over to relieve the pressure in his chest, but the handcuffs cut into his flesh and restricted any movement.

All hope disappeared the instant he saw who pushed open the heavy iron door and walked in. She cast a shadow over him and a snort of disdain and pity escaped her lips as she leered at him.

“This him then, our little prying eye?” she said glancing over at the man by the box.

“Yeah, not so curious now though is he?” he laughed.

Michael’s eyes grew wide with terror as he saw the man approach with a pair of pliars and what looked like a gas torch. He pulled with all his might against the cuffs, not caring about the pain or the sound of his own wrist cracking under the pressure of the metal. Raw fear enveloped him and he whimpered desperately.

The woman continued glaring at him, not a hint of doubt or mercy in her eyes.

“What’ll it be, hon?” the man enquired gesturing with the instruments in his hands.

“Mmm, come on baby light my fire”, she joked, her face remaining deadpan.

He casually tossed her the burner and she flicked it on. It spluttered and began to blow an even blue flame which she directed at the floor.

“So my little canary, will you sing or will we have roast chicken tonight?” she lilted. Her companion smiled at her tasteless humor.

“I swear to God, I don’t know what you are talking about, I don’t know anything, I swear I would tell you, on my mothers life, anything!” he screamed.

“Well my boy, who knows, she may well be next” the man replied.

“Please God no! I’ll do anything, I won’t tell anyone anything, just let me go, you will never see me again!”

“You’re right there son, on at least two counts”, the woman smiled.

“I promise I was just looking, I didn’t really see anything, I didn’t hear anything!” he pleaded.

“I know sweetie,” she hushed “I know, you wouldn’t lie to Auntie Moira would you?” she said with a false saccharine tone that made Michael’s skin crawl. With that Moira stepped closer and directed the hissing flame at Michael’s naked feet. His screams echoed unheard.


Chapter 1

Nikki glanced around briefly taking in the diner and its patrons. It was a truly typical old fashioned diner, spartan without the typical tacky décor, but authentic. Green linoleum floors shone brightly under the fluorescent lights and scarlet clad booths lined the walls. Outside it was dark, as would be expected at one o’clock in the morning. The other patrons scattered across the diner were clearly also nighthawks*. Two cops sat laughing over some anecdote as they drank coffee and in another booth two men who appeared to be the drivers of the two delivery trucks parked outside, sat nursing malt shakes. In the middle of the room was a triangular island counter where Nikki herself sat. The counter was staffed by a single person. He was middle eastern, Pakistani Nikki guessed and he wore a white button down shirt and a stark white apron. His name badge read Hassan. Hassan seemed an anachronism in this diner, and 'Phillies' the old 1940's American diner appeared as an anachronism rising out of the depths of central London. But it didn’t matter to Nikki, the coffee was good and the apple pie even better. This was her first time in Phillies and already she liked it. She pulled out a worn copy Fugitive Pieces and read while sipping her coffee.

After about twenty minutes, the doorbell clamored as someone entered. Nikki looked up over the edge of the book and saw a middle aged blonde woman walk in. She cheerily greeted Hassan by his name and perched herself on a stool at the island. She wore jeans and a worn red leather jacket. Nikki acted like she hadn’t noticed, and continued reading but her eyes kept drifting over the same sentence not taking anything in. At that very moment she was shaken from her thoughts as the woman shifted over to the stool next to hers and addressed her directly. "That is my favourite book, its amazing. Are you enjoying it?"

Nikki met her eyes, twinkling greenish brown eyes, that Nikki imagined changed in hue with whatever mood the woman might be in. Right now they were warm and friendly so Nikki responded in kind. "Actually yes very much, its beautifully written" she replied.

"Well the author is actually a poet, Canadian I think. This was her first novel and I don’t think she's written another. I have tried to find more but without any luck. You can tell through, the imagery and stuff, that she is a poet?' said the woman enthusiastically.

"Well now that you mention it I can definitely see that." Nikki put down the book and turning to face the woman. "I am almost finished but its the kind of book you wish wouldn’t end".

"Ah well, all good things come to an end, especially good books unfortunately", sighed the woman with mock weariness.

"Well not all good things, like this coffee. May I have another please?" she gestured to Hassan.

"And what would you like"

"Oh that’s kind. Coffee as well, decaf though, otherwise I will never sleep. It’s hard enough as it is."

"Oh well coffee doesn’t affect me either way. I sleep four hours a night no matter how much caffeine I drink, how healthy I eat, exercise or listen to whale sounds"

The blonde woman laughed at Nikki's last comment. "Four hours is enough though?'

"I suppose it is. Been like that since university. I would study late, sleep very little and I think my brain just got into a pattern which I have never been able to break. Mind you, its productive but not always fun to be one of the few people awake when it seems like the rest of the world is dreaming. Thank goodness for books and all night diners eh?” she paused, “What keeps you up till this hour, meeting someone?" As she said it she blushed in realization, "Sorry I didn’t mean to pry?"

"No not at all. I had a late shift at work and I can’t sleep when I am keyed up after work so on those days I come here, have a cuppa and unwind".

"What do you do?" Nikki enquired.

"I am a prison governor, HMP Larkhall women’s prison" the woman said self-consciously averting her eyes, waiting for the inevitable response of disbelief.

"Wow, that’s awesome. Must be a tough job, managing that?" she said with sincere respect.

"Its ok, good days and bad..."

"And what kind of day was today...?" Nikki asked gently.

"Not the best actually. One of my officers went AWOL and we were short staffed, with plumbing problems to boot. But enough about me, this is boring, no one wants to hear about management rubbish. What do you do?"

"Oh, I am in IT, a server administrator for the MOD (*Ministry Of Defense)?"

“MOD, must be exciting?"

"Erm, not really, I just handle IT matters. I work from home, flexitime, and only go in when there is a crisis really."

"Must be nice to work from home? I would sit around in my jammies all day," the woman grinned.

"Sometimes I do," Nikki laughed, but seriously it gets rather boring on my own the whole time, I always envy people who have office jobs or something that at least involves some other people. I am relatively new to London, moved from Bristol and its hard to meet people in this city. When you have a job in IT, you are unlikely to run into any people that don’t play World of Warcraft and attend Lord of the Rings conventions. The last woman I asked out turned out to be one of those that slept on the pavement for Star wars tickets, dressed as Chewbacca!"

The blonde woman howled with laughter at this. She composed herself, her cheeks flushed. "Oh my, look at the time, I had best be off home, I have an early day tomorrow trying to track down my missing officer who is probably sipping cocktails in Ibiza right now. But nevertheless....its been lovely meeting you um..." she struggled to recall whether she knew the dark haired woman’s name.

"Nikki", Nikki prompted.

"Ah, hi Nikki, I’m Helen. Helen Stewart. And I don’t like Star Wars and I know nothing about computers".

"Great then, that’s refreshing. Well I hope you get some sleep tonight".

"I hope so too and thanks for the cuppa".

They said goodbyes and with that Nikki found herself alone again. She paid the bill, and walked home, smiling to herself on the deserted streets.

Helen meanwhile was driving home, and then it hit her. She didn’t have Nikki's number. Would she see her again?


* this scene is a direct reference to Nighthawks.
http://images.google.nl/imgres?imgurl=http...l%3Dnl%26sa%3DN

That was great hunni more soon :D

Great start and good to see another story from you.

Well I hope so ..... otherwise it'll be a short story! :)

Great start to a new story :) Thanks for the pic as well, helps bring the scene to life :)

Good start :) more please :) ^_^

Hey Ib.....Academia...been there
Militaria......been there...twice

Whence Ib??????? or just when???
Not gonna miss the commute tho...Cheers

Thanks to my beta

Chapter 2

Helen found herself thinking about Nikki at odd moments throughout the week. Something about her had bored into her mind and periodically it took hold and directed her consciousness toward the arch of Nikki’s brow, her smile or her deep brown eyes which seemed to penetrate Helen’s very soul. But it had been a busy week and Helen had not been back to the diner. The following Thursday she worked another late shift. It had been a particularly rough day and Helen was looking forward to a long weekend off. The inmates had threatened a sit in because of the plumbing that was still causing ‘a stink’. She had managed to calm them and had had a plumbing team in all day to try and find the root of the problem.

Finally after a punishing session at the gym, and having wolfed down a quick curry, she made her way to the diner with anticipation. She was hoping Nikki would be there and as she walked through the door she was not disappointed. Nikki sat in a booth overlooking the street and seemed lost in a book. Helen ordered herself a cup of coffee and refill for Nikki. She walked over and placed the coffee in front of Nikki. Nikki looked up startled and then a smile spread across her face as Helen seated herself in the booth.

“Hello there,” Nikki greeted warmly.

“Hiya, coffee all right?” said Helen as she set the mug in front of Nikki.

“Coffee is perfect, thanks. How are you?”

“Great, what are you reading?” Helen asked curiously examining the cover of the book Nikki had placed on the table.

“Oh, an autobiography actually. Stephen Fry’s”.

“That sounds interesting he is fascinating isn’t he?”

“Definitely, he is sooo funny and yet it’s kind of sad at the same time. He has been through so much. Even a spell in prison. Right up your alley in fact.”

“I heard that too. And isn’t he bipolar?” Helen asked.

“Yes I think he owns like four Mac’s. When he’s manic he goes shopping” Nikki added.

“Like retail therapy. Maybe I’m bipolar, I like to shop too.”

“Aaah one of those, when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping,” Nikki chuckled.

“Aye, something like that,” Helen laughed, biting her tongue with embarrassment.

“I’m not much of a shopper. I rather like food markets and deli’s but clothes and stuff I usually try and buy online.”

“You buy clothes online?!” Said Helen disbelievingly, considering Nikki’s sleek and fashionable ensemble of designer jeans and shirt.

“Yeah, not like EBay or Amazon. Proper stuff. It’s all available you know. High street gear too.”

“Mmm. I never shop online, don’t trust cyberspace with my credit card.”

“Well actually it’s quite safe if you know which sites to use and security settings”.

“Maybe, but I still like the element of browsing, people, sales and all that.”

“That’s ok, but I don’t always have the time, and online I can be picky about what I want and they always have it. I like shopping for food though. I’m a bit of a closet foodie in fact. I could spend hours hunting for a particular blend of coffee or type of cheese. And with food touch and smell is important. So online food shopping isn’t as much fun. Although I do have my Marks and Sparks stuff delivered. I can’t be arsed to cue for loo paper or eggs.”

“I’m old fashioned. Still push my trolley about every Saturday. I’m a bit like you about food though. I love food shops, I’m not a great cook, but I love good food and don’t even get me started on eating out.”

“Well you certainly don’t look it” Nikki said, her eyes involuntarily gliding over Helen’s figure.

“Aye well, this is from hours spent in the gym I’m afraid. I suppose you are blessed with a good metabolism….or wait let me guess you participate in full contact origami?”

“Ha ha”, Nikki split with laughter as she pictured it. “No not really, I run now and then”.

“Anyway, how was work today ‘Guv’, and have you tracked down your officer yet?”

“It’s been better. Bit of a shitty situation. The plumbing is buggered and no sign of the officer. Strange thing, we had the police round his flat and all his stuff is there, no bags or clothes gone. His passport was in his dresser. Seems he vanished into thin air. Police suspect foul play. But he had said something to the other officers about having had enough. I think he was stressed. Being so young it’s hard to deal with some of the harder cases. I hope he just decided to get away and that he’s ok. But to be honest I suspect he probably isn’t. It’s all a wee bit fishy.”

“Mmm, sounds strange. You should be careful,” said Nikki thoughtfully.

“Aye, thanks. Didn’t know you cared,” she said coyly.

“Yes, well, erm,” Nikki blushed, realizing she might.

Helen decided to rescue her, “so how was your week, save the MOD from any virus’s or what?”

“Not exactly, and the only virus the MOD should be worried about is the one their secretary keeps spreading around. Bloody tart actually hit on me. I am hardly tuned in to office politics but even the deaf-mute canteen worker knows she’s shagged everyone on the fifth floor. Yech!” she said with a visible shudder.

Helen giggled. “God, every office has one. Except in my line of work I have both staff and inmates shenanigans to deal with. And to complicate matters they don’t always play on their own team”.

“Blimey, they get fired?”

“Of course. If you can catch them that is, which has only happened once in my time. An evil bastard, Fenner was getting a leg over one of our less savoury inmates. Finally I got enough evidence and got him sacked and her transferred. Mind you it was a mission and it surely hasn’t put her off, wherever she is now.
You wont believe some of the stuff that goes on, and lets face it, sex is one of the few currencies the women have to trade with, so it’s rife business and we can’t have eyes everywhere. Don’t even get me started on how the system is all fucked up, I could go on for hours,” she said looking vaguely into space, lost in her worries.

“I’d be happy to listen” replied Nikki sincerely.

“Nah, enough about that, I am sure you have better things to do, and I don’t have hours” she said glancing at her watch. “Shit I should go, look at the time”.

“Work tomorrow?”

“No actually I have the day off, but idiot me committed to a session with a personal trainer at eight. I thought it would make me get up instead of while away the morning in bed.”

“Well I’m impressed with your dedication. On my days off I do very little, least of all exercise.”

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow, after nine that is? I was planning on going to Borough Market in the afternoon, and well seeing as you like hunting out good food, you might like to tag along”.

“Borough Market, where is that?”

“What, you haven’t been, and you call yourself a foodie!” exclaimed Helen in disbelief. “It’s in Southwark, near London Bridge. It’s amazing. On Fridays they have all sorts of great food stalls set up, and sell the most scrumptious nosh.”

“Oh well, if you put it like that, it’s a date” said Nikki convinced. Suddenly she realized she had said ‘date’, and turned a deep crimson, hoping Helen hadn’t noticed.

If she had she didn’t let on. “Great, see you tomorrow then, about half ten? Let’s meet here for a morning cuppa and then we can hop on the tube to London Bridge.” Helen suggested rising and gathering her things.

“Perfect. Until tomorrow then.”

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“Jesus Dick, get your dick out would ya?” Said the figure leaning nonchalantly against the door jamb.

Richard whipped around, hurriedly stuffing his shirt back in his pants.

“Fuck it Moira, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Well Dick,” she said with emphasis on the latter consonants, “maybe if you weren’t sticking it to some tart in the middle of the day on the wing, you wouldn’t get caught. You stupid screw.”

“Oi sweetheart, fuck off would ya and leave the grown ups to talk”, she said motioning a thumb at a young freckly red headed thing who was cowering red-faced, busy straightening her skirt.

After the girl had gone Richard directed his irritation at being interrupted back at the source “It’s Richard! I told you not to call me Dick. What do you want?” he hissed.

“I will call you a fucking nob-head if I like. Now shut up and listen. Two things. First the plumbing. Get a guy on the crew, and get it sorted. It stinks in more ways than one, and if anyone gets a whiff of it we are up shit creek. The last thing we need is this place crawling with flat foots. I also don’t need McScrew to get her kilt in a knot and start asking questions”.

“Actually Scotswomen don’t wear…” Richard began.

“Oi do I look like I’m finished? Shut it!”

“Secondly, there is a pick up on Saturday night, be there at eleven and text me when it’s done”.

“I have plans on Saturday” he stuttered lamely.

“I don’t give a rats ass, Dick. You can move your bloody bingo night. This isn’t the Women’s Institute sewing circle. It’s business. Attendance is not optional, is that clear? And what happened to Michael is peanuts compared to what I will do with you if you fuck with me. Is that clear?” she repeated loudly.

“Crystal.”

:wub: How cute! It's a foodies date. :wub:

Chapter 3

Nikki sat bleary eyed, waiting for Helen. Hassan had knocked off a few minutes ago and what appeared to be his brother or some other family member had replaced him. Amir had silently placed a strong black coffee in front of her. Nikki appreciated it that the diner staff wasn’t chatty. She wasn’t in the mood to swap pleasantries. Her mood was dark for reasons she did not care to explain to the barista or anyone else for that matter. She felt her heart lift when Helen swept through the door.

“Hiya” Helen greeted merrily.

“Hi there, aren’t you bloody little miss sunshine,” Nikki replied with mock weariness.

“Aw come on, sun is shining and I have a day off,” said Helen cheerily.

“I think the endorphins have gone to your head mate,” Nikki retorted smiling.

“Aye, maybe, maybe…. Anyway, let’s be off,” Helen commanded with enthusiasm.

“Hang on there, just a minute! I haven’t even finished my morning brew!” Nikki protested.

“Aah forget that, there’s coffee at the market, brewed from beans imported from across the globe,” she said, dragging Nikki from her stool.

“I don’t care beans about those beans, I care about these beans, in this here cup!” Nikki said feigning resistance as she let herself be herded out the door towards the tube.

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Tony wiped the sweat from his brow and then dragged his hand across his overalls. The rest of the workmen were on lunch which in this business meant he had about an hour and a half to get this done. Richard had been clear, if he got it done without any problems there was five grand, large, in it for Tony. If he didn’t get it done…well Tony did not want to think about that. He had cleaned up for Moira before and pissing her off was not even a concept he wished to entertain in the universe of possibility. Evidence of what happens when you piss Moira off, or dealing with it, was actually what kept Tony in lager, his wife in shoes, and his mistress in smack. He crawled slowly, foot by foot towards the T- junction in the pipe. He smelt it before he found it. ‘Shit, what a mess’ he thought. He tasted the bile in his mouth but kept advancing. He couldn’t waste time. He saw a pair of worn black shoes floating in the stagnant pool of sewage which lay on his side of the blockage. Slowly he inched forward until he was at the exact location of the offending obstacle. He could just make out shreds of dark blue wool and a grimy metallic badge. It could have been pips of some kind or maybe a name badge, he pondered. Tony took a double lined bag from the inside of his overalls and then carefully began to retrieve the bits of material, metal, and other remnants that were scattered about. Finally he thrust his hand into the blockage in front of him and rustled about, trying to grasp at anything solid he could find. His hands brought out a large bone, half dissolved. It appeared to be a femur. Tony hadn’t studied medicine exactly, but he knew body parts. He had been in this line of work long enough to know bones, bits and the time it took things to decay with what solvents and so on. This was the work of industrial drain cleaner. It was badly done and the irony of choice of solvent was also not lost on Tony. Not at all his preferred method, but he supposed in these circumstances his client didn’t exactly have time or resources readily available at short notice. Drain cleaner took much longer than people imagined and left this kind of mangled mess. ‘No good at all’ he thought. He was glad of the heavy rubber gloves as he piled the rest of the remains into the bags. He paused a moment as he considered the skull and its owner. Tony wondered what this poor son of bitch had done to incur Moira’s wrath. He shuddered back to the present, finished scraping the pipe, and considered his handiwork. The filthy sludge that began to flow through had collected around his knees and feet as he crouched and he needed to get out and flush the system before the others got back. He also needed to change clothes soon, before the bleach gave him a rash or ate through his third set of overalls that month. Besides, the thick smear of Vicks under his nose had become obsolete after about five minutes in this tunnel and if he didn’t get out soon the stench would overwhelm him and he would heave, pro or not.
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Helen and Nikki had spent the day pottering about the market, with Helen spiriting her from one stall to the next. By the end of the day they were exhausted and their arms groaned under the weight of all the treasures they had acquired along the way. The day had felt relaxed in each other’s company and conversation and jokes flowed easily between them, like two old friends. It was around six pm when they were finally back at the tube station and they hadn’t eaten since midday when they had devoured the most delicious chorizo sausage roll that had ever passed Nikki’s lips. The day had drawn to a close and the sky was rapidly darkening. They turned to each other in front of the station as throngs of office workers droned passed them. Secretly neither of them wanted the day to end. They hugged and said their goodbyes and made their way to their respective tube lines. Nikki turned back before entering the turnstile. She caught Helen watching her leave. Nikki knew with her entire mind that she should turn and keep walking. Get on the tube, go home, and fall asleep in front of the Discovery Channel. But Nikki’s mind was overruled by the one part of her body she could not always control.

She walked slowly towards Helen, “Um I had an idea. We haven’t eaten since lunch and well we have all these goodies, and I bragged about my cooking, maybe I should whip up some dinner to thank you for showing me around today.”

“Well you don’t need to twist my rubber arm, any excuse not to eat fish fingers again,” beamed Helen. “So my place or yours chef?” She asked.

“Erm, well I think you’re closer so lead on MacDuff.”

Soon they bundled through Helen’s door. It was a surprisingly spacious apartment and tastefully decorated on what was clearly a government employee budget. It was somewhat untidy and apparent Helen had not been expecting company. Nevertheless it was warm and inviting. Nikki set about creating an impromptu feast with the selection of ingredients from their market trip. Helen assisted as ‘sous chef’ and soon a mouthwatering paella was on the table, accompanied by a bottle of crisp chardonnay. The wine flowed and before they knew it, it was well after midnight and two empty bottles betrayed their state. Nikki began to wash up, regardless of Helen’s remonstrations.

“I always wash up, you can’t well cook in other people’s houses and then leave a right mess” said Nikki firmly.

“Well I was brought up to believe that if someone else cooks, the rest wash up. It’s only fair” argued Helen.

“I bet you were also brought up to believe a haggis has two short legs and two long ones and walks in circles” retorted Nikki, bursting into peals of laughter.

“That is not true!” pouted Helen.

“I know there is no such animal. Glad you figured it out at last!” Nikki said through more fits of giggles.

“That’s not what I meant,” exclaimed Helen red faced and now also doubling over.

“Hey there, haggis for brains get a grip and pass me the Fairy liquid”.

“It’s right there in front of you!” said Helen, her arm brushing past Nikki to reach it.

They both fell silent as they realized their close proximity. Helen’s one arm rested gently on Nikki’s left side and instead of pulling it back, she moved to the right to Nikki’s waist and softly stood on tip toes to plant a gentle kiss on Nikki’s neck. Nikki froze and Helen felt it.

“Sorry I, I ,….um I shouldn’t have” muttered Helen apologetically.

“Don’t be sorry” said Nikki turning around to face Helen, her eyes like amber pools absorbing Helen. She leaned in and her lips met Helen’s silky smooth mouth. Soon their tongues were exploring each other’s, but after a few moments Nikki pulled away. It was excruciating but her brain kicked in and she had to think. ‘Damn it Wade, THINK!’

“I…I Can’t. I want to but…um…you don’t know me, it’s too soon. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want to hurt you,” she said desperately forcing out words she didn’t want to say.

“You’re not hurting me. I know all I want to know and all I know is I want you right here right now. Forget the rest” said Helen, her eyes devouring Nikki’s as she pulled her closer.

“I can’t…” Nikki protested in vain as Helen captured Nikki’s mouth once more and all her resistance melted. Helen’s hands roamed over Nikki’s waist and finally she could wait no more and her fingers began to pick deftly at the buttons on Nikki’s shirt. Nikki gave over, her whole being consumed by desire as Helen led Nikki by the waistband of her jeans to the couch. She fell on the couch, Helen straddling her. Clothes soon pooled on the floor. Helen began a slow torturous assault on Nikki’s every pleasure point beginning with her neck, lingering with her tongue at a spot below Nikki’s ear that caused her breathing to become ragged. Her tongue traced a slow line down Nikki’s neckline until she suddenly took Nikki’s left nipple firmly in her mouth. Nikki bucked and her whole body submitted to Helen’s touch. They had made urgent, passionate first time love in the lounge. Later they retreated to the bedroom for gentle session of exploration and incredible tenderness neither had ever experienced.

They lay in each others arms, as rays of sun broke through the curtains, casting shadows on the tangle of naked limbs. Both were awaken by the shrill ringing of Nikki’s mobile phone from the lounge.

Nikki staggered to the lounge. “Shit Shit Shit,” Nikki swore in frustration as she read the display before answering.

“Nikki. Ok I’ll be right in. Thirty minutes. Ok. Fine. Bye.” Nikki walked back into the room, her eyes on Helen as spoke the last words.

“Sorry, Helen I have to go. Work”.

“On a Saturday?”

“Yup, ‘fraid so, no rest for the wicked and I am on call. Some idiot director probably forgot his login password or used his CD Rom drive as a cup holder. I gotta go, I’ll call you later, OK,” she said hurriedly pulling on her clothes.

“Sure, no worries. But are you sure I can’t convince you to stay, maybe call in sick?” said Helen suggestively running her finger over Nikki’s thigh.

“I wish, I really do, but I can’t,” Nikki apologized , tearing herself away from Helen’s electric touch.

“We’ll talk later then, or not….,” Helen smiled wickedly, with not so subtle innuendo.

Within minutes Nikki was out the door, like a whirlwind that had blown through Helen’s apartment and her life. Helen was falling for Nikki, hard and fast.

Loving that storey.. it was great!!

woooo two updates :clap :clap Great hunni more soon :clap

Two fab updates IB :)

A bit of plumbing...a bite of paella...a pinch of passion...I have run the gamut....What next Ib ? Cheers !

Some of these characters belong to Kudos.

Chapter 4

Nikki walked brusquely through the door, her face grim and determined. Katherine tried to hail her, but Nikki waved her off and strode purposefully towards the boardroom. Harry and Adam sat staring at something on a laptop computer in front of them. As Nikki walked in, they acknowledged her with nods but kept watching, riveted to the screen. She circled the table and came to stand behind Adam and Harry to focus on the images in front of them. She was looking at footage from the prison parking lot camera. A man in blue overalls was carrying a bag to small van marked "0900- roto-rooter". The footage zoomed in on his face confirming it was indeed Tony. Tony only got involved when there were dead bodies. He was like a vulture. His presence also confirmed the team's worst fears, Michael was dead. Nikki bit back the lump in her throat and stared ahead emotionlessly, waiting for Harry to speak, to make it more real or somehow less..

"Nikki, how are we on the governor? Its time," said Harry, letting out a weary sigh.

"She's not ready", said Nikki firmly.

"We have no choice", Adam interjected.

"We do, we choose to wait, we can choose other options, find new options."

"There are no bloody other options, our only option is now in a barrel somewhere being marinated in Tony's special sauce".

"Jesus, Adam have respect!" Nikki glared at him.

"I am just trying to stress the reality of the situation. Give you some perspective." Adam said defensively.

"Oh thanks Adam , I wasn't quite clear on the details!" Shouted Nikki. "Your PERSPECTIVE has really helped make this fucking mess clearer!" She boomed.

"Come on Nikki, it’s not Adams fault" Harry tried to soothe her.

"Sure, it’s not his fault! I PUT MICHAEL THERE, it was my decision! MY FAULT."

"No Nikki, WE put him there, and he knew the risks."

"Thanks Harry, that makes it all better, I'll explain that to Sandra and the kids at the barbecue next Saturday!" She said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"Look Nikki, stay focused we need to move on this, time is running out. Plan B," Harry responded coolly.

"There is no Plan B".

"There is, Helen Stewart is plan B".

"She is not plan B. There was one plan, a shit one. A plan that killed Michael," Nikki replied defiantly.

"Moira killed Michael Nikki, not you. Now get a grip or go home. Remember what's at stake," Harry said softly, at the same time activating a slide show of images that jarred memories from the depths of Nikki's mind where she had made a futile attempt to hide them. She slumped in a chair, head in her hands.

"Oh god, Harry she's not ready," pleaded Nikki.

"It's all we have Nikki. She is all we have. We need her. You knew this was a possibility. I wish we had more time, I wish we had other options, but wishing doesn't get us anywhere," Harry replied in his characteristic rational tone, as if he traded with life and death as easily as other people decided whether the would have fish or chicken for dinner.

"We have at best a week, maybe less," Adam interjected.

"So what, we trade one life for others?" Nikki asked incredulously.

"Nikki I am not entering into this debate, we have covered this before. We aren't trading anything, we take risks, big ones and hope we can help people. Sometimes people get hurt or die. It comes with the territory," Harry stated matter of factly.

"Not hers Adam" Nikki said evenly.

"Nikki, are you too involved? Did she get to you. Because if the answer is yes, tell me now and we will pull you. Right here, right now," Adam enquired.

"I, erm ….no, I can handle it," Nikki said not sure she believed her own words.

"Good. Fine. You handled her, you will turn her tonight. We haven't got time. Tonight Nikki, not a day later. Adam and Katherine will work out the plan with you, and make sure you get it right, we can't lose her. And get down to Frank. He will run you through the surveillance footage of the other sites and get you up to speed."

Adam exited and Nikki was about to follow suit when Harry addressed her.
"I'm sorry Nikki. I know you were close to Michael. I know you recruited him. But don't blame yourself, remember this is not your fault, you didn't kill him". He put his hand on her shoulder. "This is shit Nikki, but we will get her."

"Yeah, shit happens," she said coldly and turned on her heel, dreading what lay ahead.

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Frank was sitting, eyes glued to a bank of blinking monitors each marked with masking tape labels to indicate the locations they were relaying images from: Prison parking, Prison entrance, Richard Boyd's house, Stewart house.

"Hi Frank" Nikki greeted him cheerlessly.

"Hi Nikki" he greeted without taking his eyes off the monitors.

"Harry said I needed to check out the footage".

"Yeah, I showed him the important clips this morning. You’ve seen Tony?"

"Yes".

"Well here is the footage of Boyd talking to Tony by the van yesterday morning and that’s him yesterday after lunch. Big smile eh?"

"Happy camper, thinks he's in the clear. Bastard. Do we still have a 24 hour tail on him".

"Yup, one guy outside now, you can see him there in the White Mazda. We change to two cars when Boyd is off shift at two."

"Good. Let me know if anything comes up."

"Will do Nikki."

Nikki turned to leave as Frank spoke, "One more thing Nikki."

"Yes?" she looked at him.

"Helen Stewart," Frank bit his lip as her eyes bored into him.

Nikki's eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"I was on duty last night and this morning", he said nervously, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Oh yes," she said calmly, realizing what he was referring to.

"I haven't shown Harry yet, but Nikki I should, I just wanted to let you know before I go to him. I have to tell him," Frank was fidgeting with the frayed edge of his tie.

"I don’t think that’s necessary", she replied evenly, more stating than suggesting.

"What?! Nikki you are involved with her, it jeopardizes the whole project!" Frank exclaimed surprised.

"It doesn't, she not a suspect and I am still clear on this. I am team leader and I say it's not necessary," she reiterated firmly.

"B..but Nikki, there are procedures and protocols".

"There are. But well, sometimes we can be flexible unless of course it is criminal or causes imminent danger to others. I don't think that is the case and must I remind you about the little incident with credit rating adjustments and your little hobby which I dealt with discreetly".

"Nikki I know, thanks for that, I really appreciate it and I swear I haven’t played online since, but this... this is different,” he argued.

She changed tack, "Frank you owe me, I am asking you to keep this to yourself and wipe the tape. Trust me. If anything goes pear-shaped you can tell anyone you like, and I will say I forced you, I promise."

"Ok Nikki, but please for God's sake be careful and please don’t screw this up".

"I won't Frank, you know me.'

Frank's fingers rapidly tapped a few keys and within seconds the tape was blank. Nikki nodded with muted appreciation and disappeared through the door.

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Richard sat in his car, trying to control his leg which was shaking uncontrollably. He rarely became nervous, his arrogance didn’t allow for it, but this was different. This was not a game, a lot more was on the line here than his job. He'd known Moira and her cronies long enough, and seen enough to know this was serious and errors were not tolerated. He had not planned to get into this sort of thing but Moira had cleverly blackmailed him into some small errands after seeing him getting it off with a prisoner. Later the favors became bigger until finally it has escalated to this stage. He had helped her kill people, get rid of evidence and run multiple errands like this one. He wasn’t entirely sure of the details of her current project and he dared not ask too many questions. He didn't want to know. Probably drugs he thought. Whatever it was, he no longer dictated his terms. He had become her flunky and he resented it, deeply. He had considered transferring at one point but knew that it would be of little help. She would find him. Moira had many 'friends'. Dangerous friends.
Finally he saw headlights cutting through the darkness, growing wider as they approached. He stubbed out his cigarette and threw it on the asphalt as he stepped out of the car. He glanced around but saw only an old homeless man, who appeared very inebriated, lying on the pavement a few metres up the road.
A young couple walked with a pram, crossing over to the park on the far side. He dismissed them and walked towards the dark blue Opel Corsa that had parked across the street and dimmed its lights. The driver rolled down his window.

"Nice evening for a drive mate," the driver said monotonously.

"Yes, pity about the traffic though," Richard replied, what he had rehearsed almost 100 times, as sweat had begun to bead on his temples.

"Good, its in the back," said the driver as he popped the boot lid. He made no effort to get out, so Richard walked to the back and looked inside. An unmarked black togbag lay on there like a corrupt pearl in a rusty oyster. He gently lifted it out, slammed the lid and walked back to the driver's window.

"Got it."

"Fine, don't mess with it. Tell Moira we expect the rest of the payment tonight," the man replied, causally scraping under his nail with the car keys before placing them in the ignition. He started the car and drove off.

Richard stood still a moment, watching the car disappear in the distance. His eyes surveyed his surroundings one last time before he returned to the car. He put the bag on the passenger seat as he pondered whether to open it or not. His curiosity got the better of him and he decided to take a quick look. He unzipped the bag with trembling hands. Inside lay about three pounds of what looked like grey plasticine wrapped in green cellophane type material. Richard's leg began to shake again. ‘Oh god what had he gotten himself into now' he thought. His fingers slid moist and clumsily over the buttons on his mobile:
“DONE. THEY ASK TO PAY TONIGHT. RB."

Hey IB, I'm loving this story. Very intense.

Some of these recently introduced chaps are sounding familiar to me. <G> ;)

And the plot definitely thickens! Thought there had to be a really good reason for Nikki trying to resist Helen's charms.

Hi ladies and gents, this is heavy going (not exactly War and Peace though), so this is a heads up. Hope you all stick with it. Thanks for feedback, especially my beta.

Chapter 5

Helen’s apartment

Helen busied herself tidying the kitchen and straightening up the lounge while she waited excitedly for Nikki. She had called about an hour ago and let Helen know she was on her way. Helen’s stomach had flipped several times when the phone rang and she saw Nikki’s name on the display. Since she had rung off, her mind had been running a mile a minute with thoughts of Nikki and their night together. When the doorbell finally rang, the butterflies in her stomach all seemed to go crazy. She composed herself and went to open up. Her eyes twinkled with eagerness at seeing Nikki again but when she opened the door and saw her pallid demeanor, her own face fell. She appeared as a sarcophagus like a cast of the Nikki she knew. Without even a cursory hello Helen asked
“What’s wrong, are you ok?”

“Yes, um no, wait let’s sit down. We need to talk” she said, her eyes not meeting Helen’s.

They walked though to the lounge and sat down on the two large leather armchairs which stood diagonally from one another. Like two chess pieces ready to do battle.

“What’s going on Nikki, are you all right, was it something at work?”

“Hang on Helen. I need to ask you something first. Do you remember signing the Official Secrets Act?”

“Yes, Wh....What? Why?” Helen was confused, her face crumpled with concern.

“Ok I need to remind you that you signed it when you joined the Home Office and that it governs everything I am about to tell you” Nikki stared at a spot on the floor.

“What the F…? What are you talking about, you’re scaring me Nikki?”

“Ok Helen, you need to listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you. This is important and complicated. I need you to hear me out, ok? Can you do that for me,” Nikki spoke slowly.

“Yeah sure, of course, now what’s going on?”

“One more thing, I need you to know I really care about you, and I wish this was different. I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You mean so much to me.” Her eyes had floated up to meet Helen’s.

“Ok. Jesus, Nikki just tell me what this is about, please,” Helen said, her frustration reaching its peak.

“Fine.” Nikki let out a sigh and began. “I am not in IT. I work for MI5. I am currently involved with a team investigating Moira O’Donnelly. Moira is a member of a splinter faction of the Irish Pro Life Action League. Her group split with the Action League about seven years ago after they had some differences regarding how to achieve their aims. Specifically, Moira and her mates were willing to kill to get their message across and also used some interesting, violent and less than ethical means to fund their activities. Her lot got involved in drug trafficking with a Nigerian group to help fund their operations. They deal with every nutter on the planet if the price is right and it suits their aims. Whether is it’s guns, bombs, terrorists, IRA, you name it, they’ve got a finger in the pie. Like the League they are deeply catholic, radicals in fact. However in spite of their fervent religious beliefs and somewhat creative interpretation of ‘God’s word’ they don’t seem to be as hung up morally when it comes to murdering innocent people and so on. Furthermore the funds they raise are not exactly non-profit. Moira has two kids in private schools in Switzerland and series of well feathered bank accounts in Luxembourg and British Virgin Islands. Moira is married to Ryan O’Donnell the father of her two kids and a wanted criminal. Ryan and Moira were convicted for the bombing of an abortion clinic in Bristol three years ago. Four people died and one woman is disfigured. They knew there would be people present that day and aimed for the maximum number of fatalities. Moira was captured a week later in Cardiff, but Ryan got away, killing a police officer in the process. Ryan is still on the run. We believe they are planning something, possibly a bombing. But we don’t know who or where. We know that even in prison Moira has still been running things, she was always the more fanatical of the two and that’s why we placed an undercover agent inside to monitor her and gather information. That agent was Michael, your missing officer. We think he is dead. We saw one of Moira’s lackeys, on the plumbing crew and we believe he moved the body out of the prison on Friday. The reason we know it’s happening soon, is because Moira has an anniversary of sorts this coming Friday. Her parents pressured her into an abortion when she was fifteen, on that same day thirty years ago. When she found God and Ryan, things fell into place in her disturbed mind and she found a cause to direct her anger and loss at.”

She continued, “In fact we suspect Ryan was behind a bombing seven months ago at a small clinic in Manchester. No-one died, it is presumed they mistimed it, but the cleaner on night shift was severely injured. That’s when we realized Moira may not have stopped her activities and we were sure someone on the inside, at Larkhall, was helping her, possibly on a high level. Money started moving in her accounts and our informants confirmed that she was up to something. We decided to place Michael inside. When we lost contact with Michael more than a week ago, we knew we had to involve you. We had you under surveillance for some time, and ruled you out as a suspect. We then considered you as a possible inside informant. It would be too risky to place another outsider in the prison so close to the d-day and we need to watch Moira and find out the time and place of the next bombing. We think Michael was some how discovered and eliminated by Moira and whoever else is working with her, so they will be on the look out. They probably know we are on to them. For that reason we need a ‘clean skin’ who is already present in Larkhall, one we can trust. I am the team leader on this project. I was also tasked with checking you out and eventually getting you on board”. Nikki fell silent and looked intently at Helen whose expression had gone from fear, to horror and now seemingly to anger.

Helen stared at Nikki, her eyes had become dark molten pools. Her neck had reddened and her knuckles whitened with anger. Suddenly she leaned forward and slapped Nikki so hard she reeled sideways and almost fell out of the chair.

Nikki recovered, rubbing her face vigorously. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right, FUCK YOU NIKKI WADE. If that’s even your bloody name?! A fucking spook. You bitch, you cold manipulating whore!” She shouted.

“Wait Helen, it’s not like that, sleeping with you was not part of the plan…”

“No I suppose that was an added perk, comes with the job right,” she interrupted, screaming.

“No you have to believe me, I didn’t mean to fall for you, I was just meant to befriend you, but then it just happened, I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I tried to tell you!” She pleaded.

“Bullshit, you could’ve told me at any point, perhaps specifically the one before you landed on top of me in my fucking bed! What, you fancy yourself as a debonair 007 wannabe?”

“Come on Helen…”

“NO I won’t. You don’t get to say that, you don’t get to say anything or ask for anything. You lied to me, not just about this whole spook business, that I might get over, but you fucked me, you used me, I am a human being, not some ASSET!” She hissed.

“Please Helen”.

“Shut up! You don’t get to ask for a fucking thing. So tell me how long you been watching me, listening to me. Come on,” she said jumping up and striding to the upright lamp, peering under it, “where are the bugs, huh?” Helen was seething.

Nikki rose slowly and walked reluctantly over to the telephone and lifted the unit, removing a miniscule electronic device. She placed it on the side table. Wordlessly she walked to the hall, out the door and removed a small camera from the doorway. She returned and placed it on the table. She made no move toward Helen. She just stood looking at her. Helen’s folded arms fell to her sides and she began to crumble. She sat heavily on couch. “How long,” She asked as her shoulders began to shake.

“Five months. That’s it,” she said motioning to the devices. “And your phone of course,” she added.

Helen began to sob, “So you and your mates had a good laugh, listening, watching, peeping like perverts, violating my privacy, shagging me, for a good laugh down the pub”.

“I promise it wasn’t like that Helen,” Nikki said, desperately.

“Oh really, and what’s your word good for,” she snorted though the tears.

“Helen I really do have feelings for you, please believe me. What happened last night had nothing to do with the job. But right now this is bigger than me, us, we need your help, I need your help!” Nikki beseeched.

“I don’t have to believe anything,” Helen replied bitterly.

“I am sorry,” Nikki said finally.

“That’s not enough Nikki,” Helen dried her face on her sleeve and her eyes grew cold and distant.

Nikki sat down, defeated. Nothing she could do or say would help now. She had probably lost Helen in more ways than one. The operation would be shot to hell and her career and her heart.

They sat together in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Eventually Helen spoke “I will help you. Only because I give a damn about innocent people dying. But I don’t want you touching me or speaking to me about anything other than this Moira issue. And afterwards, I never want to see or hear from you again. Those are my conditions, are we clear?”

Nikki was shocked, hurt, and also relieved. At least one thing might come out ok.

“Fine. Thank you Helen.”

“Don’t thank me. I am not doing this for you. Now get out and take your spy toys with you,” she spat.

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Sunday evening, G Wing, Larkhall

The wing was bustling after dinner. Inmates had some recreation time and the clicking of pool cues punctuated the conversational murmurings. Moira entered her cell and slumped on the bed. Her eyes fell upon her bible. She pulled it closer and opened the well worn cover. Her fingers pulled out a crumpled photograph and she stroked it gently as her eyes becoming teary. “Ahh Ryan and little Luke. It won’t be long, my sweethearts. Not long now.” She closed her eyes, and clutching the bible to her bosom began to pray, mumbling some incoherent litany. It was in this position that Richard found her when he went to find her whilst walking his rounds. He knocked on the heavy cell door, emitting a series of dull thuds which jolted Moira from her prayers.

“Come in,” she said, with her usual harshness almost absent from her tone, as the bible slid onto her pillow.

Richard entered and stood left of the door, shielded from the view of the wing.

“Everything went as planned Moira.”

“Good. Now listen carefully. Did you look in the bag?”

“Erm, no” he said evasively.

“Don’t lie to me Richard. Of course you did. It’s all right. What did you see?”

“A couple of pounds of cemtex I think,” he stammered.

“That’s correct Richard. I have a little project running. Some friends of mine will be coming to visit on Wednesday. They will be staying a few days at the Dragons Head Inn.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Ryan is coming.”

“Your husband?” He said surprised.

“Yes, he will be traveling under the name Cameron O’ Reilly. He will drop by on Wednesday night after he lands, to pick up the package. He will ask you to make some other arrangements. I expect you to help him. Understood?”

“Moira I don’t know what this is about, but I don’t want to be involved in killing anyone or whatever you are up to,” he spluttered anxiously.

“Relax Richard, it’s an empty building that they are bombing. Some of our business associates did not meet the terms of an agreement and we want to send a message to help them see that paying on time is not negotiable.”

“Erm ok, but I am not going near this place or anything like that.”

“It’s fine Richard, we won’t ask you to detonate the damn thing. Just help Ryan to get things done, ok? The sooner he wraps it up the sooner he leaves and you can go back to shagging tarts and bingo nights. Ok?”

“OK”. Richard said.
He was relieved to hear it was just a building but he had a nagging feeling that maybe Moira wasn’t be entirely honest. ‘Why would her husband, himself a wanted criminal take the risk of traveling to London to demolish an empty building which they could easily get one of their lackeys to do?’ It bothered him, but he chose to push it to the back of his mind. He just wanted to get it over with. The sooner Ryan O’Donnelly and the cemtex were gone, the better. He looked over his shoulder as he retreated from the cell to continue his rounds, and saw Moira had resumed her prayers, except now she seemed to be rocking slightly her eyes wide, almost maniacal as she recited the words:

“If men strive, and hurt a woman with child, so that her fruit depart from her, and yet no mischief follow: he shall be surely punished, according as the woman's husband will lay upon him; and he shall pay as the judges determine. And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life."

Another great update, thanks. Hopefully Helen and Nikki will work things out. :)

OOO this is so exciting...love it when helen gets angry!

Another great update IB - this is intense.

Clean Skin.......That's Helen alright. Not that Nikki's ever again gonna get close enough tell...

I like this little furious scot!!!
Great update, Irisblue!

Iris is it time for an update? im hoping it is great story. :hug2 :hug2

Chapter 6

Monday morning, Thames House, The grid. 06h00.

“Ok, Miss Stewart, thanks for coming in. Nikki says you have been very co-operative and we really appreciate how huge this risk is for you,” Harry said gravely from his chair at the end of the gleaming glass boardroom table.

Helen nodded but did not let her eyes meet Nikki’s who sat across the table from her. Instead she stared coldly at Harry, waiting for him to continue.

“Basically the plan is as follows, you will be in the prison keeping a constant eye out for Moira. Anything unusual, anyone she speaks to, especially prison officials who may be involved, we need to know it all. We will be fitting you with a body microphone and micro earpiece. This is of course increasing the risk but as you will be our only eyes and ears we need to have evidence and we must be sure we don’t miss any details. Frank and Adam will be on the other side of the mic 24/7 backing you up and guiding you.

In the meantime Nikki will follow up on the outside. We have all the small airports and stations under surveillance and we have a 24/7 tail on Boyd who at this stage we think is the one helping Moira. But we aren’t sure and there may be more of them. Is this clear?” Harry asked.

“Is this your best plan?” Helen questioned him sardonically.

“I am afraid it’s our only plan. We have only five days and this is the only way.”

“Well I suppose that’s it then” she said pushing back her chair and rising “I have to get to work”.

“Ok then the team will set you up, run through the procedures and we will have people on stand by in unmarked vans around the prison at all times.”

“How comforting”, she smirked.


Helen stood in the small windowless office her arms above her head as Katherine placed a small black box in the waistband of her skirt.

Nikki walked in and froze as she saw Helen standing half naked in her office.

“Jesus Christ. What are they selling bloody tickets out there?!” Helen said angrily.

“Erm no sorry I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Owwww,” Helen yelped as Katherine lifted some tape from her skin.
“Sorry Katherine, could you give us a minute alone, I’ll finish this up.” Nikki said quietly.

Katherine slunk out of the room, relieved to get away from the hot tempered Helen

Helen and Nikki faced off as the door closed behind Katherine.

“Look Helen I really, I mean WE really need you but if you don’t want to do this you don’t have to, you do have a choice.”

“Look we have been over this, so hurry up, strap this gizmo on so I can get to work before Boyd or Moira really get suspicious”.

Nikki silently moved close, Helen’s breathing warm on her neck. Nikki threaded the wire along the waistband up against Helen’s stomach. Oh god that stomach, the one she had trailed soft kisses along less than 2 days ago. She drew the wire along and with her index finger gently lifted Helen’s bra and nudged the receiver microphone under it to let it nestle firmly in the cross wire. She stepped back and breathed in, realizing she hadn’t drawn breath since she had felt Helen’s on her skin. The wire was firm. Nikki switched on the small black box.

Helen buttoned her shirt and slid on her anthracite colored suit jacket.

“Put this in your ear”, Nikki handed Helen a tiny kidney shaped, flesh colored hearing piece. “Now say something so we can test the levels”, said Nikki as she fiddled with a mobile receiver unit on her desk and slipped on a pair of earphones.

“Fuck you,” Helen said disdainfully.

“Loud and clear,” Nikki sighed.

“Fine, goodbye.”

“Goodbye” Nikki responded, but when she looked up Helen was already alone.

:clap :clap :clap Finally an update! but great update!! :clap

Great update :clap Thank you :clap

Chapter 7

Monday afternoon, outside Richard Boyd’s house

Nikki sat tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She felt like a caged tiger. Helen was somewhere facing a psychopath and god knows what else and here she was sitting in an unmarked white car down the road from Boyd’s house. Waiting. Most of her life was like this, waiting. A million thoughts ran through her mind. Helen, that night, her eyes when she found out about Nikki’s purpose, and that final cold goodbye. She clenched her hands around the wheel and squeezed her eyes shut as she sent up a silent prayer that those would not be their parting words.

She was torn back to the present when a taxi came crawling around the block and came to a halt in front of Boyd’s house. Nikki hunched down in her seat making herself almost invisible to anyone on the street and carefully surveyed the goings on on the street. The taxi doors flung open and three men clambered out. As the taxi drew away, Nikki could study them more closely. She immediately recognized the hulking broad shouldered man who led the way to the front door. Ryan O’Donelly. It was clear they missed him at the airport or station and it was obvious why. He had a long unkempt beard that made him almost unrecognizable, but to Nikki, who had spent months poring over his files, he was unmistakable. Boyd met them at the door and then the group disappeared into the house. Within seconds, Nikki’s fingers danced across the keys on her mobile.

“Harry, Ryan is here,” her words tumbled out.

“Are you sure.”

“Of course I am sure, let’s pull Helen.”

“Easy Nikki, we can’t do that. We need to get them all, you know that, they are like a weed, we can’t just cut off the branch we need to get them out roots and all. Keep watching them and let’s make sure we know all the details. We have him now. Keep on him, I will send back-up and in the meantime we let Helen help us figure out what’s going on. We need to know the target before we haul them in.”

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Helen was very aware of the box against the skin of her lower back. It felt like it was wedged against her spine and she felt the sweat beading against the plastic. She was convinced everyone could see her nervousness as if the box was flashing under her shirt revealing her for what she was. Instead of running back to the car as she wanted to, she marched determinedly through the gates.

Once on the wing, she cast her eyes down at the women having tea. Moira was nowhere to be found. Helen walked briskly up to the third landing. Moira’s cell was wide open and empty. Helen looked about anxiously and slipped inside. Once inside she glanced about for anything out of the ordinary. But the room was immaculate. That in itself was odd. Then Helen’s eyes fell on the bible which lay prominently on the bed side table. It was well thumbed and grubby from use. Helen flipped it open hoping to find a note or something useful. But it was empty. However one passage in Exodus caught her eye, it had been underlined in a bold orange marker:

"And if men struggle and strike a woman with child so that she has a miscarriage, yet there is no further injury, he shall be fined as the woman's husband may demand of him, and he shall pay as the judges decide. But if there is any further injury, then you shall appoint as a penalty life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise."

Helen almost dropped the book as the clanging steps of someone coming up the metal grate stairs jarred her to the present. She hurriedly replaced the book and exited the cell just in time before Moira’s neighbour rounded the banister.

For the rest of the day Helen merely observed the comings and goings on the wing. In the afternoon while the women did their chores, Moira was in the kitchen and Helen had to retreat to her office to complete her admin before it started to appear odd with the governor suddenly hanging about the wing all day. She would have to trust the guards to watch Moira, but did not alert any of them to the fact that something was out of the ordinary. At various intervals throughout the day Frank would speak up, almost causing her to topple over in surprise as he inquired as to her position or to check the equipment.

That evening, as she steered her little red car home, a shiver rippled through her as she considered those words underlined in Moira’s bible and what they might mean, “burn for a burn, wound for a wound.” Who would be burned or wounded. She realized she too now had a desperate need to find that answer, the same desperate need that burned inside Nikki perhaps.
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In the meantime Nikki sat outside the house. Boyd had the day off and no one stirred. There were no cameras or bugs in the house, so Nikki sat, her eyes glued to the door. Later that evening she reported back to Thames House after another team came to take over. Apparently nothing had happened on Helen’s watch and Harry and Adam agreed that they would continue to watch and do nothing. Nikki was too tired to argue and frankly couldn’t suggest any alternative plan. She returned home to catch a few hours of sleep before the next watch.

Another great and fast update :clap Thanks

:fanfic Totaly agree ! :popcorn :clap

thanks.

As usual in Amsterdam, when it rains, it pours.


Chapter 8

Monday night

Nikki lay in her bed, she had rolled about fitfully for hours and was eventually convinced that her attempt to sleep would be futile. She writhed sweatily in the linen like a victim sparring with a cumbersome boa constrictor. The more she moved the more restrained she felt. She wrestled with the sheets and the thoughts in her head. She couldn’t forget the look of cold dark hatred in Helen’s eyes which had burnt through her as they stood face to face in her office.

She also replayed the images of Moira’s victims in her mind like a cruel slideshow . Helen did not understand the danger and here she was miles away unable to protect her. With that thought Nikki whipped her lean frame out of bed. She padded across to her closet. Dressed in jeans and a shirt the door soon slammed shut behind her as she raced to her car. She keyed up the engine and sped down the road. She wound through the city’s tarred veins until she saw the familiar house. She slowed the car and rolled to a quiet stop on the opposite side of the street. The moon was still high and Nikki settled in and watched. Content to merely be near.

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Helen arrived home from her shift exhausted. She ripped the box and cable from her body and flinched as the tape tore from her skin. She flung them carelessly on her sofa and kicked off her heels. It felt like she hadn’t slept in weeks, when in fact it had been less than two days ago when she had slept soundly. In Nikki’s arms. She wished she could rewind to that state of naiveté but she could not. There was no going back, no unlearning. But she could numb it, she decided as she unscrewed the vodka and poured herself a liberal measure. A couple of hours and several glasses later Helen started awake on the sofa. The imprint of the remote control reddened her cheek. She was cold and the television was silently flickering in the room. Helen knew she had to drag herself to bed and drowsily rose to move to her bedroom, when suddenly her stockinged foot slipped on the smooth wooden floors and she thundered to the ground taking the coffee table and its various ornaments with her .

Nikki heard the loud crash in the house and saw the silhouette of a figure falling. Within seconds she was at Helen’s front door, gun in hand. Thinking better of pounding on the door lest she alert any suspects, she snuck inside. The light in the lounge shone bright and it took Nikki only moments to realize what had happened. She took in the empty bottle and the sleepy figure of Helen trying to recover from the floor. Nikki stooped wordlessly and picked Helen up under her arms. She heaved her onto the sofa and looked at her closely to see whether she had any injuries. Satisfied that the only thing that was hurt was perhaps Helen’s pride, she allowed herself to glance up at the face that haunted her dreams, but instead of gratitude, she found resentment as Helen groggily glared at Nikki.

“What are you doing here, I told you I didn’t want to see you” she slurred weakly.

“Forget that now, let’s get you into bed.”

Helen was too tired and too drunk to argue or make some smug remark about getting into any bed with Nikki nearby. She silently allowed herself to be led to her room and tucked under the covers. Nikki stroked a stray hair from Helen’s forehead, “Don’t worry I will watch over you, sleep now,” she whispered.

But Helen hadn’t heard a word as she finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning Helen awoke with a pounding headache. She was still dressed in a skirt, unbuttoned blouse and stockings. She gripped her head in her hands as she walked to the lounge to find Nikki. But the house was empty, the only sign that Nikki had been there a folded blanket on the sofa. Helen parted the curtains and sure enough Nikki’s car was still parked across the road. Helen had far from forgiven her but decided that the least she could do was take her a cup of coffee to thank her for the night before, but by the time she exited the house, mug in hand, Nikki had disappeared to be replaced by Frank in the surveillance van. He was waiting for Helen to go to work and to check her sound equipment was still intact. Helen sighed ruefully and dumped the bitter coffee in the sink and went to ready herself for what was sure to be another unpleasant day on the wing.

Tuesday afternoon

Nikki tapped her fingers on the handbrake. With her other hand she sipped the third Red Bull that day. She had had driven straight to Boyd’s house from Helen’s place to relieve the night shift. Boyd had left for work shortly after her arrival and she had chosen to remain put and another team had tailed him to work. Finally her patience was rewarded when the door opened and Ryan emerged. He was alone with only a rucksack on his back. He took the tarpaulin off an old dusty motorcycle leaning against the garage and after a few attempts managed to revive the machine from its cold slumber. He eased the bike out of the drive and headed for town. Nikki followed him with a good distance and a second team stayed out of sight. But the trip was not long and soon the bike came to halt outside the Blind Beggars pub. Ryan entered the busy pub and Nikki followed cautiously behind. Nikki’s eyes grew accustomed to the smoke filled dark pub and she soon spotted Ryan on a stool at the end of the bar. She made her way to an empty table behind him and took a seat.

After a few minutes Nikki watched as Ryan rose and walked to a payphone inside the pub. After a few minutes he returned to his stool and continued sipping his beer. A while later another man entered the pub and came to sit next to Ryan. Nikki could not hear what they were saying but studied his appearance so she could identify him later if necessary. She texted the team outside to snap pictures of anyone entering and leaving the pub and sat and waited to see what the two men would do next. It was not long before Ryan and the second man parted ways, but not before Ryan slipped him a brown envelope.

Nikki remained seated and allowed the second team to follow Ryan who in fact returned to Boyd’s house stopping only for cigarettes and beer. When Nikki got back to the grid the digital photos were already up on the screen and the team was trying hard to identify the stranger from the pub.

“I didn’t recognize him, Harry” Nikki said settling into a chair.

“Adam thinks it could be one of the IRA types he had an eye on in the old days”.

“Yeah, he looks like someone I have crossed before, Katherine is running the pics and we should soon have an ID if he is in the system”.

“Good, what else have we got?”

“Not much, Frank says Stewart is going through the motions and Moira and Boyd seem to be keeping a low profile.”

“Mmmm, that’s worrying, We need to spot something out of the ordinary.”

“Speaking of spotting anything, did you spot anything outside of Ms. Stewarts home this morning,” asked Harry his eyebrow raised in clear confrontation.

“I couldn’t sleep” Nikki replied evenly.

“When I can’t sleep I drink some warm milk,” said Adam unable to keep the accusation from his tone.

“I’ll try that next time,” said Nikki, refusing to take the bait.

“Nikki, cut the crap, what’s going on?” Harry directed.

“Nothing, I just thought I’d keep an eye on my case.”

“Your case?” Adam almost grunted.

“Look if you want to say something say it, if you don’t then drop it and let me do my job”.

Before Harry or Adam could even fire back Katherine stormed in excitedly, “We have him! His name is Donavon Healy. IRA engineer. A slippery character with a rap sheet as long as my arm. Nothing stuck until finally he did eight years for assault in the 1990’s after her finally got caught when he beat the daylights out of some kid in Bethnal Green in 1991. There were too many witnesses to silence and the kid lost sight in one eye. We have an address and he is currently employed as a shift foreman on a building site. We have people on it right now.”

“Excellent. But whatever business they did it may be over and we may not find out what’s going to happen from this lead so keep pushing all the buttons and Katherine get everything on Healy we can find. We may get lucky,” Nikki said authoritatively, rising from the table.

Thanks for two great updates. :)

Great updates, I can hardly wait for more :clap :clap :clap

Chapter 9

Wednesday morning, 2 days till D –Day

Nikki had finally submitted to a couple of sleeping tablets. She was exhausted and too keyed up to sleep and knew she would need her wits about her to get through the rest of the week. She woke up refreshed and anxious, not knowing what the next couple of days would bring. Would they be able to stop Moira and Ryan’s plan? Would innocent people die? Where, who, when, the questions were driving her crazy! She had stayed put once again, her steely gaze fixed on the house waiting for Ryan and his cronies to make their next move.
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The chapel

Boyd entered the chapel to find Moira in her usual spot in the front pew, sitting silently, eyes closed in prayer. He went to sit beside her and waited, not wishing to interrupt her reverie lest he anger her. Finally after a few minutes, Moira sighed and looked up.

“Hello Richard, any news from Ryan?”

“He says hello and that everything is on schedule. He says he met Donavon and it’s all arranged”.

“Good, good.”

“Look Moira, its not a big problem, but how much longer will Ryan and his fellas be staying?”

“Not long Richard, not long now.”

“Are you sure that I won’t get any heat from this, I mean you said there would be no casualties right?”

“It’ll all be fine, soon Richard, just relax and keep your head down.”

Richard turned around as he heard footsteps approaching, his eyes met Helen Stewart’s. She looked coolly at him trying to hide how much she abhorred him.

“Hello Richard, Moira, interrupting am I?” She tried to stay calm. She had being trying to locate Moira who seemed to be spending less and less time amongst the other women but she had not expected to find them in here talking openly.

“No, not at all Helen, just counseling Moira here, in my capacity as her PO of course,” Richard stammered unconvincingly whilst Moira sat stone-faced staring at her knees.

“Of course, well don’t let me hold you up.”

“Ah well we were wrapping anyway, weren’t we Moira darling,” he recovered smoothly and stood up straightening his tie.

“Yes Mr. Boyd,” Moira responded flatly.

Helen exited the chapel and caught only the last words as they drifted between Richard and Moira, “Here tomorrow after lunch, ok?”

“Yes Moira.”
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Wednesday late afternoon, Boyd’s house.

Boyd wasn’t home yet and Nikki sat bored in the car contemplating the events of the past week. Katherine sat beside Nikki filling out her umpteenth Sudoko while Nikki surveyed the street for any activity. Just as they were expecting the next team to come and relieve them an old brown Volkswagen van pulled up outside the house. Healy alighted from the van and disappeared inside the house. Nikki was snapping photographs when the door reopened and Healy came outside with Ryan in tow. They opened the back doors of the van. Inside was a motorcycle which the two men slid out on a makeshift plank ramp. Ryan then inspected the van and roughly kicked the tires as if he were at a second car dealership. Finally he nodded to Donavon, they shook hands and Donavan rode away on the motorcycle. Ryan looked about the street nervously. Then he locked up the van and went back inside.
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Wednesday night, the grid.

The whole team was gathered around the board room table, charts were pasted against the glass and it had the look of a war room. Nikki was pacing up and down the room chewing absent mindedly on her pencil.

“Ok, what do we know?” She said thinking aloud. “Moira and Boyd are in on it, and we know its happening on Friday. We know that Healy supplied something to Ryan, most likely the van with the fake plates. We have checked out the van, nothing inside and there is a tracking device on it already, so we will find them wherever they go. Helen heard Moira and Richard will be meeting tomorrow just after noon to talk, if we are lucky she will successfully bug the chapel and we will hear it all. Moira’s cell is clean as a whistle, Helen had it turned on a routine drug search this afternoon along with the rest of the wing. We can’t search Boyd’s place or bug it because the house hasn’t been clear in days and probably won’t be before Friday as the boys seem to be laying low.”

“Basically we seem to have the whole team, but the question still remains, who are the targets. We assume its London somewhere, and it’ll be big. But other than that we are still bloody clueless. And they are smart, not using phones,” Adam added.

“They are smart, but they still have no idea we are on to them, that’s our trump card. So if we don’t get a break from Helen, we just have to keep on the guys and they will lead us to the target where will we have to catch them red handed and hope that someone will grass on Moira. After all, we already have Boyd as an accessory, he can hardly claim he had no idea what was going on.”

“Yes but Nikki, can’t we pull them now? We already have Boyd and the guys and Healy is breaking his terms of probation and we have his pics with Ryan. Ryan is a wanted criminal and Boyd is not allowed to hang about with them, especially not the family of an inmate who is a freaking terrorist.” Katherine stated.

“It’s not that simple, what if the target is rigged, or they have other guys who plan to help them? We cut of the head and another one grows to take its place. We need to identify the target, that is key! If Helen figures it out tomorrow we pull the lot, if not we stay on them likes fleas on a scrap yard dog, got it?”

The team all mumbled their understanding and began to file out of the room.

“Hang on Frank, just a sec,” Nikki touched him on the shoulder. “How’s Helen holding up?”

“She seems to be okay, other than her run in with the pair today it’s been quiet. She looks buggered but other than that she seems to be all right.”

“Good, good. Keep an eye on her Frank, okay?”

“Sure Nikki, eyes and ears.”

Hey Ib...Not wishing for 40 days and forty nights...but if that's what it takes....Cheers

Wonderful updates, all of them! Thank you.

Oh, the suspense...

Thanks for the amazingly fast updates :clap

More tomorrow, thanks to my amazing Beta, working her butt off this weekend.

Chapter 10

Thursday, 1 day until D-Day

Helen barely slept. The thought of having to install the microphone in the chapel the next day terrified her almost as much as Moira’s dead eyes. Earlier that afternoon she had googled Moira’s name and seen the pictures and stories about what she had done and Helen realized that she was dealing with a truly remorseless and sick human being. One who would kill without concern for whether the victims were innocent women and children. Frank had carefully showed her how to install the small wireless device. She had decided to place it beneath the pew where Moira usually sat so as to pick up everything they said. She really hoped that Moira and Boyd would discuss the target so this whole thing could be done with. She was not sleeping well, could not remember when she had last felt like eating any solid food, and getting Nikki out her mind would be easier if she was no longer involved in this whole mess. No matter how hard she tried to banish Nikki from her consciousness she found herself feeling those hands on her as she lay alone in her bed, or imagined Nikki’s laugh as she drank coffee alone and remembered the times they had sat together over a brew. How had she let herself fall so hard and so fast for someone who was a liar?

As she walked into the chapel during lunch there wasn’t a soul about, everyone was at lunch and she had seen Richard go out for a cigarette break into the garden. She carefully eased into the pew as if she was praying and removed the small device from her trouser pocket where it felt like a burning coal against her thigh. She removed a small sticky slip and wedged it under the bench and pressed it firmly against the smoothly worn wood. “Testing,” she said clearly, to the empty room. “Gotcha Helen, all clear, Frank replied into her earpiece.” Helen rose, looked around nervously and seeing no-one disappeared from the chapel.

Richard watched her leave. She was not aware he had returned from his break and was making his way to the chapel for his rendezvous with Moira when he heard a sound from the chapel. Richard entered the chapel and looked to see who was there. He was surprised to find no-one about. Who was she talking to and why was she hanging about the chapel yesterday and today? Maybe she was looking for Moira? She probably thought they were having an affair? Stewart was always suspecting he was having it on with inmates. She was right of course, but not in this case. He went to sit on the bench. Curious as to why Helen had been there he inspected the room. Suddenly it came to him, she might be trying to catch him out or something. His dim brain had fired off a few more neurons than usual and he crouched to peer under the bench. There it was, unmistakable. Moira would flip.
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Ryan was trotting about like a child on Christmas Eve. He had even shaved for the occasion, deciding his disguise was not longer useful anyway, not after tonight. They would all know who was responsible. He would make sure of that. The van was fueled up and he had checked the plastics for the hundredth time that morning. Liam and Connor had been briefed to the last detail and within a couple of hours they would be putting the finishing touches on the bombs, ready for tomorrow’s fireworks. Thanks to their Taliban brethren the internet had detailed beautifully how the cell phone timers worked and he had decided to use one this time. After all one should move with the times he thought to himself. Tonight when the building was empty they would place the plastics and tomorrow at the exact moment of Moira’s choosing he would make the final call. She would give him the final go ahead tonight, her blessing so to speak.

The phone shrilly broke the silence and Ryan grabbed it from the coffee table. “Yes?”

“It’s me dear, I miss you so much.”

“Should you be calling?”

“It’s ok it’s Richard’s phone. We have had a small hiccup but I will handle it myself.”

“Okay sweetheart.”

“The plan is to go ahead. Tomorrow at exactly 11:34 am. The exact time I lost my son. The place is the same one where he was stolen from my womb and murdered. I am texting you the address right now. Ryan, show them my son’s wrath, God’s wrath, MY wrath”

“They will now our wrath tomorrow my love, and they will burn”.

They said their brief goodbyes. After what had seemed like an eternity cooped up in Boyd’s crappy little house, Ryan was relieved they would finally be getting into gear. He rounded up the boys and they loaded the bags in the van.

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Nikki almost jumped out of her seat when she saw the men load the van. She knew that the time had come. Within minutes they had alerted the grid and teams were zooming in to follow the van. There was no room for errors now. Frank had called to let them know that Moira and Richard’s meeting had been uneventful and they had discussed some minor things like Moira missing her children and general prison matters. No hint of their plans. But now the men were on the move, it no longer mattered, they would find them now, take them in and soon this whole thing would be over.

They followed the van in overlapping teams all across London until after dark. Finally the van pulled up outside a massive grey columned building in Southwark. “The White Lily Family Care Centre, established 1907.” The place seemed abandoned except for two portly security guards who were sitting on the ledge outside sharing a smoke. Ryan and his men got into the back of the van and emerged dressed in navy overalls. They lugged the heavy tog bags into the building. Nikki couldn’t hear the exchange with the guards, but could see them disinterestedly direct Ryan’s crew inside. This was the place. No doubt about it. Finally unable to wait one more minute, Nikki leapt from the car and gave the sign. Within minutes the street was crawling with MI5 personnel and police. They stormed into the clinic.

After about twenty minutes Nikki reappeared on the street, Ryan, Liam and Connor were led away to a police van whilst explosive experts and forensics examine the contents of their bags. There was enough plastics in there to take out the whole building. On Ryan’s phone they found the text from Boyd with the address. They had them, all done and dusted. Nikki felt relief flood through her body and she sank to the pavement pulling a cigarette from the box in her jacket pocket. Adam sank down next to her grinning from ear to ear.

Just as Nikki was about to take the first sweet pull from the cigarette her phone rang. She retrieved it from her jeans and held it to her ear.

“Nikki?”

“Hi Frank, so you heard, we got ‘em, red handed,” she said smiling.

“Nikki there a problem, it’s Helen” he replied, dispensing with any formalities.

“What?” She almost shouted as the blood drained from her face and she dropped the unlit cigarette to the ground beneath her.

“She’s gone.”

“What the hell do you mean she’s gone.” Nikki was already running to the car.

“We haven’t heard from her since 3pm. She didn’t answer her phone and the mics aren’t giving anything but static. We sent an agent in to look about, nothing. She’s disappeared.”

“WHAT?!”

“There’s more…., we haven’t been able to locate Boyd or Moira either. It’s like the earth opened up and swallowed them whole. They haven’t left the grounds, we are sure of that. But we can’t find them anywhere”.

“Get me blueprints now. I’m on my way!”

“One more thing Nikki, the agent claims she saw some blood in Helen’s office on the floor, not much, some spatter by the door.” But before Frank could add anything Nikki pressed the phone dead and rammed the car’s gears into first.

To be sure...your beta is amazing...But...respectfully...where the freak is Alpha when we need her...?

That was amazing :clap thank you :fanfic :clap