Lisette and the Cyber Geeks
by
Brian Sands
Secret Agent, "No Marks for Servility," Actress: Francesca Annis, Raffish Didclips
Chapter Twenty Le Rôdeur
Over the ensuing two hours of their journey towards the Flowers R Us nursery, Lisette could not shake the idea that they were being followed, although every time she glanced into the van’s rear vision mirror the road behind was empty. Or, when the headlights of other vehicles came into sight, those travellers overtook and passed the van in its sedate progress without showing any apparent interest. At those moments, Lisette was required to hunch down in her seat with her head bowed, in case the driver or passenger of the other vehicle should notice a young woman with a cloth tied over her mouth and report the unusual sight to the nearest police station.
Although she was not bound stringently, Lisette’s arms were tired and aching from being held in the unaccustomed position between her shoulder blades. She began to look forward to arriving at their destination. Her new kidnapper’s motives arguably might permit leniency. She wondered how Chérie Chalmers was managing in the back of the van. The platinum blonde lawyer had to be more comfortable than Lisette, if only because her arms were tied back at the elbows and nothing more, although she must be suffering from the gag of panty remnants filling her mouth.
Lisette had grown accustomed to her own musky scent and was thankful that she was a stickler for body cleanliness. So is Chérie for that matter, she thought. But then, Chérie was a trifle too fastidious sometimes. It’s pretty ikky, though, having panties stuffed in our mouths. With thoughts such as these, Lisette Ruisseau whiled away the time as the van trundled on towards its destination.
The swaying of the van as it took a sharp turn onto a gravel driveway nudged Lisette into wakefulness. In spite of her growing discomfort, she had become drowsy from the gentle perambulation of Moon’s driving and had fallen asleep.
The van pulled up beside what appeared to be a small building. The white picket fence surrounding it reflected a ghostly glow in the intermittent moonlight. As Lisette was marched along the fence to a swing gate at the front, she smelled honeysuckle, and when Priscilla Moons shepherded her down the narrow path to the front door they passed beneath an arched bower covered with ivy vines. They mounted a short rise of slate steps, Moons fitted a key in the lock, and Lisette was conducted along a narrow hallway for several paces before they turned and entered what was revealed as the sitting room when the light came on.
Captor and captive stood in the centre of the room. Priscilla Moons produced the pocket-knife from her bag and set to work on Lisette’s arm and shoulder bonds, cutting them with economical strokes so that pieces of cord still relatively long fell to the floor. When the wrist bonds were finally severed, Lisette’s arms hung uselessly by her sides. She moved them gingerly. Her hands and fingers tingled as full circulation flowed back into them. Miss Moons began tenderly massaging Lisette’s arms and, although the young woman knew the erotic pleasure that Moons was enjoying, she readily accepted the ministrations. Being tied up was no fun (except with Donald) and any respite was welcome. Lisette fully expected to be bound again, and it was not long in coming.
"Sit here, Sweetheart," Moons said soothingly. She indicated a straight-backed armchair to one side by the wall and assisted Lisette as she lowered herself onto the seat.
"I have to tie you up again," Moons continued, "But I’m not going to hurt you."
Lisette nodded.
Priscilla Moons took Lisette’s arms gently but firmly and brought them around behind her.
"I’ll tie this rope over the cuffs of the overcoat," said Moons, suiting the actions to the words. "Do you like the coat, by the way? It has a nice silky texture, not really a heavy-duty coat, but it should keep you warm."
Again Lisette nodded. Then she raised her head and looked up into Priscilla Moons’ eyes.
"Mmmmph mph?"
"Oh yes. I think that can come off now ... There," as the heavy bandana fell away and Moons’ soft fingers extracted the wadded panties from Lisette’s mouth. "I’ll get you something to drink."
Lisette waited, licking dry lips and with no immediate plans for an escape attempt. She felt too exhausted from the ordeal of Sigrid’s Japanese knots and the effort to breathe around the mouth-filling gag. And her hands were tied in any case.
Priscilla Moons returned and held a cup of water to Lisette’s lips. She stroked her head gently as the young woman drank. When Lisette nodded to indicate that she had taken her fill, Moons put the cup aside and took up another piece of cord. As she did so, the overcoat Lisette was wearing fell open at most of its imperfectly fastened buttons, affording Moons an intriguing view of sweat-soaked and dust-begrimed breasts, the general effect a little like that of body painting. Moons hesitated.
"On second thoughts,’ she announced, ‘I think we should have that coat off. Being naked I’m sure will deter any thoughts of escape."
Moons half-lifted Lisette from the seat and peeled the coat off the young woman’s body. Lisette grimaced as her bare bottom met the seat.
When Moons had finished tying her victim, Lisette was bound firmly, her ankles secured to the chair’s front legs and additional cord around her waist and around her body. They were single strands that passed respectively across the young woman’s midriff, just below her bared bosom, and just above her breasts. Miss Moons stepped back and looked with satisfaction at her handiwork.
"What are you going to do?" asked Lisette. "The police must be on your trail. They were at the airstrip."
"They were somewhat late, weren’t they?" replied Moons. "But I have the same agenda as the others. There’s no harm telling you. I’m going to carry out Madame Vellum’s instructions to the letter ... No, don’t look so worried, Sweetie. Her plan was always to hold you as a potential hostage but to let you go when you could no longer endanger us. Now they’ve flown and are well over the Channel by now. I have to fetch some important documents from the office. We forgot them in the hurry to chase after you. It was Sir Justin Hoffnung wasn’t it?"
"Yes."
"We thought so. He and Madame have not seen eye to eye lately. And, to be honest, Madame was doing a few things on the side, selling the most popular bandes dessinées to private collectors and risking them being discovered to be counterfeit. The series of mint condition Taras by Noir, for example, fetch a high price on the black market. And then there’s the, ahem, ‘original’ folio of the play Where There’s a Will. That - or rather those since we made many copies - also fetches a good price."
"I find it hard to believe that comics are so valuable."
"Oh my dear, where have you been? On the regular market Walt Disney’s Donald Duck Number One is worth hundreds of dollars!"
"So ... That’s what this whole affair was about. Abducting Chérie Chalmers and then me just to prevent us from continuing with our investigations?"
"Yes. We always meant to set you free. We had our own escape well planned, as you have seen. Oh yes, we frightened you by threatening you with white slavery ..."
"And threatening to kill us!"
"Yes. I’m sorry about that. That was unnecessary because keeping you bound and locked up would have been enough - except that you kept on escaping. You’re a very remarkable young woman."
Priscilla Moons bent forward and kissed Lisette firmly on the lips. Lisette did not try to pull away, but when Miss Moons straightened up she spoke.
"I’m sorry, but I have to disappoint you. I have nothing against your sexual preferences but I just can’t share them. I guess I’m not hot-wired that way."
"Dear, I’m not going to force myself on you, just take a stolen kiss or two before it’s time to leave. I also wanted to get you away from that horrible little prick Doc Legato. Madame was right in dumping him. His presence reduced the tone of the whole organisation ... Now, I’ll bring your friend in and put her in a separate room so that you can’t untie each other. Then I’ll fetch those documents and get away from here ... to another airstrip. Spicer is doing a shuttle run tonight."
Priscilla Moons took a large silky scarf and a white linen handkerchief out of her handbag and began to fold the scarf into a long multi-layered strip.
"The usual precautions I’m afraid, but this should not be too uncomfortable."
She wadded the handkerchief, pushed it into Lisette’s mouth, then bound the silk scarf firmly between her lips to hold the gag in place.
"There’s no need to gag you fiercely because the walls of this neat little ivy and honeysuckle cottage are of thick stone. If you try to call out, the stone will absorb whatever sound gets past the gag. No-one outside will hear anything."
Lisette nodded in understanding but, when Moons left to bring Chérie into the cottage, she gave two or three experimental cries. She was disconcerted to find that Moons was correct; the noise she made was negligible. The plastered walls must be as thick as the external walls, she thought. And that ceiling looks thick too, to bear those exposed beams. I have to accept that I have a soft voice at the best of times, she thought ruefully. It’s easy to gag me efficiently every time they catch me!
In a short while, she heard the footsteps of Priscilla Moons conducting Chérie along the passage, the young lawyer’s bare feet making a faint padding sound on the wooden floor. Several minutes passed, then Moons popped her head in at the doorway. Over her arm she held the coat that Chérie had been wearing. Evidently the young lawyer was as naked as Lisette.
"Won’t be long, Dear ... Hmmmm."
On an impulse, Moons entered, walked to Lisette, and from behind gave her a gentle embrace. She then kissed her prisoner’s ear and tenderly fondled her naked breasts. Lisette mmphed softly and shook her head. Moons’ handling was very tender, and respectful. A parting kiss behind the ear gave Lisette a pleasant tingling sensation. Moons prepared to leave.
"I’ll be back to check up on you, Dear, then I’ll be on my way ... Thank you, Lisette Ruisseau for receiving my advances somewhat tolerantly."
The door closed. A minute later Lisette heard the distant cough of the van starting up, but the continued sound of the motor did not penetrate the cottage walls. Lisette settled down to await the return of Priscilla Moons, knowing that afterwards - unless she could get free of her bonds - there would be hours of waiting for rescue, perhaps days.
*
During the next half hour, Lisette tested her bonds, searching for knots to work on. But she remained securely tied. The cords were uncomfortable but they did not give her undue pain. She hoped that Chérie was all right in the other room, and especially that Priscilla Moons had taken pity on her and removed the gag of panty remnants.
Lisette’s experiments with her gag, however, were more productive than the fruitless tussle with her bonds. She had kept the wadded handkerchief to the front of her mouth, and the scarf had not been tied so tight as to bite in between her jaws. In fact, Lisette decided that she could work it loose by pushing with her tongue against the gag, which in turn would stretch and partially dislodge the silk scarf holding it in place. But she did not continue with the plan immediately. It was best to wait until Priscilla Moons made the final inspection of her prisoners before she left. For the gag would only be replaced, and tied a lot tighter, if Moons found that it was loose.
She did not expect to hear the van approach the house, and therefore was not surprised when the first thing that heralded her captor’s return was the click of the front door. Footfalls came along the hallway. But they were not the click-clack of Moons’ chunky shoes. Lisette raised her head and listened more intently. The footsteps sounded like those of a man. They paused outside the door to the room where she sat bound. Her heart leapt. Was it Don, or Roger? She watched the handle turn slowly. The door swung soundlessly open. A figure stood on the threshold, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway, its visage in shadow. It was bulky and hatted.
Doc Legato entered the room.
Lisette almost fainted from pent-up hope, and the disappointment and fear that followed hard on the entrance of the dangerous kid. For a moment the room seemed to tilt and swim around her, then her eyes and head cleared.
Legato wore his habitual greatcoat, his arms thrust deep into the side pockets, the hat drawn low over his brows as though he did not wish to look anyone in the face. But his mouth was visible, and it twisted in a sour grin when he saw who sat in the chair before him gagged and bound.
"Well, well, if it ain’t the little escape artist! ... I been wantin’ ter have a little talk wid yer. Looks like we got the place to ourselfs."
The boy stepped forward, shucking off his overcoat and tossing it onto a nearby chair, one pistol remaining in his right hand. Under the coat he wore shirt and trousers and, incongruously, a thin necktie. He walked behind Lisette and delicately trailed the barrel of the pistol against her cheek just above the scarf bound across her face. The young woman shivered with a mix of fear and revulsion.
"I’m gonna tie a little cord round that pretty neck, then I’m gonna twitch it nice an tight, then I’m gonna take a coupla photographs. I might loosen the rope ... or I might just leave it ... an watch yer."
From the corner of an eye, Lisette saw the boy fishing in his left trouser pocket. A thin length of nylon cord emerged. It was flicked across Lisette’s shoulders. But before Legato could draw it up around her neck, another figure appeared in the doorway. Lisette’s eyes opened wide. It was Doctor Bombadil Kidd.
Kidd looked somewhat the worse for wear. His face was scratched, apparently from running through bushes, and the ends of his overcoat were torn. A couple of twigs remained attached to his shoulder. He advanced into the room in what he must have thought was a menacing approach, the effect spoilt by his florid expression and the fact that he did not carry a weapon of any sort.
"Eh, Doc," said Doctor Kidd hurriedly, "That’s a sad waste of good womanhood there. I’ve got a better idea. First let’s take her with us into town."
Legato paused and considered the proposition.
Lisette’s heart went cold. She was going to be raped by Kidd then strangled by Legato. Well this womanhood is going to fight for her life whatever the odds, she decided. She pushed against the gag in her mouth, and the scarf that was supposed to bind it into place slipped down to her chin. Lisette spat the gag out, lifted her head and screamed as loudly as she could.
"Help me! Help, help!"
Bombadil Kidd reeled back in the face of Lisette’s cries. Even Doc Legato flinched. Lisette had no idea who she was calling for. Ideally she hoped that Don and Roger would not be far. But she knew that the walls of the cottage were probably too thick to allow even a concerted cry for help to be heard. Another possibility that flashed through her mind was that Priscilla Moons might return, and the woman would very likely be an ally and try to assist in some way. She knew it was a faint hope, and steeled herself to be gagged again, and none too gently. But her cries produced a result. Another figure appeared in the open doorway.
Sir Justin Hoffnung stepped into the light, and in his hand he held a gun. It was an unusual weapon. Lisette recognised it as a flare pistol. Hoffnung must have borrowed it from the pilot. Legato lowered his own pistol. Both men looked at Lisette’s naked form with unconcealed lust.
"That’s better," said Hoffnung. "We don’t want any unfortunate accidents, especially with the police hot on our heels."
"The- The cops?" stuttered Legato. He went to his coat and began to pull it on.
"Sure. You don’t think they’ll forget the small matter of one of their squad cars stolen? That’s how I got here ... How did you manage it, brother dear?"
"Erhm, I hid in the boot of Legato’s car," admitted Dr Kidd, to Lisette’s satisfaction. At least one gang member now had experience of being in that narrow space, though not bound.
"This is all very interesting," said Lisette, "But if I was you, I wouldn’t stick around here longer than I had to. Your organisation’s been blown wide open. If you harm me, the law will come down on you even harder."
She purposely omitted to mention Chérie in the hope that the men did not know that the lawyer was bound and gagged in a nearby room, as naked as herself. If they did, it might give them the idea of using two women hostages in a stand-off against the police. But was either man capable of such a desperate gamble? The answer appeared to be yes, in her case, as Kidd loomed over her.
"Let’s take her with us," he rumbled. "I’ll put that gag back in her pretty mouth, give it a little kiss too ..."
"No, little brother!" Hoffnung shouted. "That’s enough useless dallying!"
But what he was going to say next was lost as a masked, black-clad figure dropped like a cat into the middle of the room.
Startled, Lisette looked at the ceiling from which the newcomer had materialised, saw a manhole cover near a corner slightly ajar, then returned her wide-eyed gaze to the stranger. The man, as his tall and slender form suggested, stood unconcerned though surrounded by three enemies. His arms hung loosely, comfortably, by his side, his shoulders relaxed and slumped, his feet planted firmly upon the wooden floor with a foot angled almost ninety degrees from the other, to one side.
"D’uuh uhh!" was Doc Legato’s reaction as he thrust his hands frantically into the side pockets of his overcoat in search of his pistols.
In a blur of speed, the masked man reached Legato and pulled the overcoat down around the thug’s arms to the elbows, entrapping the gun hands in their pockets. It was done in much the same way that Donald Caisson had disarmed the kid when Lisette was a prisoner in the old warehouse, the difference being that the overcoat was unbuttoned and so did not make quite as effective a restraint. Another difference was that "Black Cat" stepped behind Legato in a whirling movement, reached an arm beneath the spiv’s crotch to catch the wrist of one hand through the folds of the overcoat and, taking Legato by the collar with his other hand, pulled upwards, lifting the kid almost off the ground. Legato was frog-marched squalling towards Bombadil Kidd, who backed away hastily.
Kidd looked desperately over his shoulder towards his older brother.
"Brother, help!" he cried miserably.
Sir Justin Hoffnung raised the flare pistol and pointed it uncertainly in the direction of Doc Legato and "Black Cat." But at that moment an arm came from behind and grasped the wrist of his gun hand in steely figures. Hoffnung squealed and dropped the pistol at the same instant as Doc Legato in mid-air collided with Bombadil Kidd. The spiv’s weight was nothing compared to that of Kidd, but the force of the impact sent both men to the floor in a tangle of arms, legs and overcoats. "Black Cat," following up his own movements, swooped towards them. The other man swung Hoffnung around by the captured wrist to face him.
Lisette’s heart jumped with elation. It’s Don, she thought jubilantly, I’d recognise that jacket anywhere!
Sir Justin Hoffnung was trying desperately to break the grip of the shorter and lighter man, but with no apparent success. Donald Caisson smiled dangerously into the large man’s face.
"I wondered whether we would meet before this affair was closed," he grated.
"D- Dougie Casement!" Hoffnung grunted as Donald Caisson with a light touch to the side of the man’s throat caused his body to slither bonelessly to the floor.
Lisette turned her attention to the struggle that was taking place near her. It was an uneven contest. Legato lay doubled up on one side, clutching his crotch and moaning softly. Next to him, Kidd floundered on his back like a stranded and not very pretty turtle, his eyes staring up in terror at the black garbed figure looming above him. Doc Legato’s two pistols were now in "Black Cat’s" hands.
"Peut-être vous avez la reconnaissance, cochon? Il y à encore Le Rôdeur!"
"Uh uh ... le- le .. ?"
"The prowler, the wanderer, you pig," said Lisette, translating for him. "You perhaps remember him."
"Urgh," came the feeble reply.
Lisette was almost certain that the man she had dubbed mentally as "Black Cat" was in fact Roger Iggotson, but he did not remove his mask.
The next moment, Donald Caisson was by her side, pocketknife in hand with which he severed the cords that bound her.
"Oh, Don, I’m so glad to see you," Lisette cried. Then, turning to "Black Cat," she added urgently, "Chérie’s tied up in one of the other rooms. I don’t think she’s been harmed, but she’s looking forward to being rescued."
The masked Roger Iggotson left the room so quickly that it was as though he had vanished in front of their eyes.
Lisette massaged her wrists while Don cut through the cords binding her ankles. Then she rose to her feet, wrapped her arms around her rescuer’s neck, and awarded him a long languorous kiss.
Donald gathered the coat from the floor, helped Lisette into it, buttoned it up, and led her towards the door. As they passed him, Doc Legato made the mistake of trying to get to his knees in order to rush the preoccupied man. But Donald was not as careless as he appeared, and Legato fell back from a sharp kick to the centre of the chest and lay sprawled in a grotesque heap. Bombadil Kidd had the good sense to remain where he lay, flat on his back, all the fight knocked out of him. Sir Justin Hoffnung was still unconscious.
In the hallway, they met Roger supporting a tired, dishevelled, completely naked but very relieved Chérie Chalmers. He had removed his mask. The green bandana that had been part of her gag hung limply around her neck. She seemed ecstatic when Roger helped her back into the borrowed overcoat.
When they were outside and standing by the car, Donald handed Lisette a small bundle.
"I brought this in case you had need of it," he explained.
It was a flimsy silk dress in iridescent shades of black.
"I was not expecting your bra and panties to go missing a second time! To paraphrase freely from a certain Irish playwright, to lose one bra is unfortunate; to lose two bras is positively careless!"
"Thank you, Don," said Lisette with an attempt at ironic hauteur that was betrayed by the flush on her cheeks, "I think I’ll clean up quickly and change, back in the cottage."
"Yers. The police will be here soon, and we can keep an eye on the villains when you’re decently clothed."
"It it’s all the same to you, Sir," said Roger, "I’ll conduct Mam’selle Chalmers home now. She’s all in. The first thing she said when I removed her gag was that she wanted to go home."
"Good idea. There will be plenty of cars to get us back later."
"Thank you, Sir ... Mam’selle Ruisseau, you’ll find this useful for keeping the cochons subdued."
Roger handed Lisette one of Doc Legato’s pistols.
In the bathroom, Lisette found an old towel, dampened it from the hot water tap, and swabbed herself down thoroughly to get most of the accumulated grime off her body. She then slipped the silky dress on over her head, took up the overcoat in one arm and the pistol in her other hand, and returned to the living room.
When she entered, she found Donald Caisson sitting comfortably in one of the chairs. Legato lay on his stomach, his hands cuffed behind his back. He was unconscious. Bombadil Kidd sat propped against the wall mopping his brow with a spotted handkerchief, sweating and terrified. Sir Justin Hoffnung sat against the wall a little distance away, watching his younger brother balefully. Donald Caisson was speaking.
"You understand, Hoffnung, that if you step out of line it’ll not only be me who will come after you. It will also be Le Rôdeur."
Hoffnung nodded. He was more contained than his blubbering brother, but his face was white.
"It was not my decision to hand you to the cops, Dougie," he said with a grimace. "It was Madame’s. She double-crossed us both. She siphoned off funds from the proceeds of our recent sales for herself, and framed you - not only to take the attention of the police from our operations but to hide her activities from me, her employer."
"Yers. That was the mistake that brought me into this picture. That and abducting the lawyer and then this nice young woman whose gun is now trained on you. However, Vellum has seen the error of her ways and wants reconciliation. She can’t very well effect that if you’re both in jail. So I have a little proposition to put to you boys, in exchange for your freedom."
"Anything," said Hoffnung and Kidd together.
"Don’t make rash promises. Wait until I’ve finished ... When you’re back in your European headquarters, you must tell Vellum, first, to disband your group. Wimple should become an honest librarian. I suggest she start by finding a position with the Bibliothéque Ligotage. I believe they’re looking for staff to help restore the Baillon Tapestry. Sigrid should find full employment as a masseuse. I suggest an establishment such as Le Peau Douce in the Rue De Sade. Gamms and Vellum may keep their partnership, which brings me to the second point. It is that they scale down their counterfeiting operations by opening as legitimate vendors of bande dessinées, selling their stock as facsimile copies at normal market values, for example, such numbers as the Tara Classics."
"We can do that, yes, yes," said Hoffnung, greatly relieved.
"There is a third condition. It is that you keep me informed about activities in the Murgatroyd cartel, without of course becoming involved in it yourselves. Simply pass on any news you hear about them."
"I think we can do that too. Thank you, Dougie."
Lisette looked at Donald but was too astute to question him openly about what he was saying. She nodded instead, to allow the criminals to think that she was in complete agreement and knew what it was all about.
"Good."
Donald rose, walked to the prone form of Legato, and poked him in the ribs with his foot. The little spiv, still unconscious, did not respond.
"We’ll get him out of here," said Donald Caisson. "He’ll go down the river to pay for your sins. You two stay here and don’t move from the spot. Understand?"
The two brothers nodded. Donald took Legato by the collar and dragged him out the door and down the hallway, followed by Lisette.
"Don, what ...?" she began.
"No yet," said Donald urgently. "I’m explain it later, after we’ve put this little shit into the police car Hoffnung conveniently appropriated.
When that was done, Donald Caisson turned to Lisette.
"You must know by now, dear lady, that my life moves on the borders between the law and the underworld."
"Yes, I do. But ..."
"So I shall have to give you, and your friend Chérie Chalmers, a thorough briefing when the dust has settled. Suffice it to say for the moment that after an interesting conversation via mobile phones with Madame Red Vellum I, and the organisation I work for occasionally, have new links in the underworld to bigger fish than the Vellum counterfeiting operation. Will you trust me on it, for the moment, until there’s time to explain more fully?"
"Don, I’d trust you anywhere and with my life. You’ve saved me so many times!"
"Thank you ... Now, I’m trying to find a way of letting the brothers Kidd and Hoffnung escape and get out of the country."
"I think I know how it might be done," said Lisette, taking Don’s arm and moving him further from the police car in case Legato inside might be conscious enough to hear.
"Priscilla Moons is up at the house fetching documents they forgot. She has the van, and she plans to return here to check on me and Chérie before heading for another airstrip. So here’s my plan ..."
ã Brian Sands 2004
Back to Index Pageã Brian Sands 2004