Breaking Point Chapters 26-30 free porn video

26. A Tangled Web "Just because something isn't a lie does not mean that it isn't deceptive. A liar knows that he is a liar, but one who speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive is a craftsman of destruction."? Criss Jami ***** Rodriguez walked into the salon just as Carmelita was completing an hour of electrolysis on Rachel. He schooled his expression to neutrality and hitched his trouser up as he settled himself on the second styling chair. Rachel glanced across at him and her face grew solemn. "What now?" she asked as Carmelita raised the chair to the upright position. Surprise vied with annoyance as he stood up again and walked over to her chair. "I was just wondering how long that is going to continue?" Rachel looked at Carmelita questioningly. "My professor say it take two-three years for all hairs to go. But most go in six month or year if do as often as we do treatment." "What else?" Rachel asked, turning her attention back to Rodriguez. "Those devices you set-up at the refinery and had fitted all over the place." He paused. "I think they are all dummies." Rachel gave a weak smile and shook her head. "Not all of them. What you have to ask yourself is 'do you have the resources of parts and personnel to find out which is which?' and bearing in mind how public getting it wrong would be, 'do you have the credibility with the populous to run that risk?' I don't think you do." Rodriguez looked at her sharply. He was quite surprised at how collected she was. "Why don't you tell me which ones are which?" The underlying tone was threatening. "Because I don't know." She continued hurriedly to forestall his reply. "I've been in here for about six months... The team installing them have, I hope, been working for most of that." Rodriguez was shocked. "You knew?" "I set it up Colonel. The original intention was to set the booby traps and then use them as a lever to negotiate a better deal for the UK and US. I trained a group to install them in parallel to myself to be more effective." "You haven't given me the names of the people you trained." "Never knew them, wasn't told their names." "All that intelligence you gave me, it was a bluff wasn't it?" "No, the information I gave you was what I was given before being sent here. And some stuff from before that." "But they knew you would be captured? They primed you with false information?" "I suppose so..." she replied, thoughtfully, adding. "It was a part of the plan, although they were expecting Alvarez and old fashioned pain, heat, cold and water tortures, not that I would be given a whole new sex. So I was briefed that capture and torture was a possibility. They may have given me older intel, after all, I'm not an American." "So you were a Judas goat?" "I'd better not have been. They were relying on me to do the negotiating. Can't do that if no-one believes a word I say, can I?" "What would have happened if Alvarez' torture had killed you?" Rodriguez asked. "I have no idea. Speaking of whom, how is Maria anyway? Have you checked? That's one very bitter, very confused and very angry person who's still not sure what she is. You'd better sort out what Cortez and whoever organised this chopping party wants to do with us both." "Heinmann is asking for you both to be handed over to him for his experiments. I understand that he has the political pull to get you both too." "You might want to look into that Paulo, since you are talking about a confirmed psychopath with control of the President's political power." Rodriguez looked at her when she used his first name. She looked straight back at him, stare for stare. It un-nerved him slightly that she could be that defiant and self-possessed, especially after the way she had been when they broke her. That also worried him. How had she recovered that quickly? Had she recovered or was this the bluff? "You said that you trained these people, What was the plan then?" "Which plan? Rachel asked. "Heinmann's or yours?" "Yours." "Mine?" she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I don't have a plan, even if I did, being changed into a woman would put an end to it. Being held for this long would also put an end to any plan I might have had." "So you say. But the people you trained have been busy, so what did you plan for them to do.?" "I didn't. I told you that I was working with someone else, he was the planner. Oh, and you shot him." "Flanders? He was a soldier. Not a planner." "Actually, he was a SEAL, but think what you like. Do what you like." "Well, his body was sent back with a warning about meddling." "More to the point what are you going to do with me now?" "We are going to continue with your feminisation." "What do you mean?" "You may have been given appearance of a woman, but there are lots of things that Carmelita and Rosaria have to teach you. We may even add a few others to vary the feminine influences." "Others?" "You are going to have to meet other people, we are not keeping you in the bunker for the rest of your life." "That's nice to know." "From tomorrow you are to get yourself made-up and dressed and present yourself to Carmelita or Rosaria. They will then set the activities of the day. Is that understood?" "Yes, I understand the instructions. Anything else?" Rodriguez inclined his head. "You said something about negotiations?" Rachel looked at him. "Yes." "What are we supposed to be negotiating?" "I believe that the main deal is to give the control of the refinery back to British Petroleum. To let the Americans back in diplomatically is what they want, they probably want the oil too, but we were here first." "This is ..." "...In return for me removing the booby traps and reinstating all the systems of the refinery." "You? I think not. You explain how to do the disarming; we do the rest." "I need to check each device, some of them will have different mechanisms since you say that they have been installing devices since I was captured." "That would mean that you would not be able to defuse them?" "Colonel Rodriguez, I may have a different body shape to Ray Barker, but I still know how to defuse a bomb." "Perhaps you will get the opportunity to prove that." "That would be nice. Thank you. Now I have other, more pressing things to do, which I don't think you will want to watch." She looked significantly at the wash bag she had taken to carrying her dilating rods and Jelly in. Rodriguez shook his head and left, glancing back as Carmelita and Rachel made their way to the Jacuzzi in the back of the salon. Her prize for performing the painful exercise, an hour-long soak in a hot tub with massaging jets. ***** A Mercedes Benz 260D filled to the brim departed the wrought iron gates in the perimeter of the camp and headed towards South West. Pinprick headlights barely showing. Three of the passengers were in a sorry condition, emaciated, pale, huddled together in the rear foot-well of the car with two SS guards watching them. The driver had a third guard and a young boy in the front as he drove the vehicle into the night. Behind them a dull glow lit the western horizon. The boy was occupied grading the pencils in a pencil box, lining them up by size and colour. Their journey only lasted about an hour, travelling cautiously between two approaching battle lines until they reached a large town house. The guards and their charges, including the boy despite his objections, collected a bundle of papers from the boot of the car and entered the house. The driver then turned the car around and drove off into the night. The young boy watched the car disappear and then went into the house. A momentary glimmer of moonlight or reflected shell-fire revealed that the house was the living quarters connected to a small hospital. A short while after their arrival, the three prisoners were escorted across to the hospital. Waiting for them was a horse-faced man in a physician's white coat. While the prisoners were taken inside the man spoke with the senior guard. He nodded approval of the guard's comments and then entered the hospital, the guard waiting for his subordinates before returning to the house. Watching the hospital from an upstairs window, the young man counted the posts of the perimeter fence, something he did each time he watched the hospital, something to do while he waited for a summons from the Doctor that he kept hoping would come. A second figure came to the window, an older boy. He was slightly taller than the first boy, but thinner, obviously related. He held his brother close and looked out of the window too. ***** Rodriguez walked back to Headquarters, the three soldiers assigned as his protection detail in close proximity. None of the populous got in his way, however, many were quite happy to just look at the floor while he passed. The flashes of the security police having as much of an effect in San Carlos as the uniform of the 'Ministry of Truth' from '1984'. As he walked he looked at the surroundings. It was a quite typical South American city street, clothing shops, grocery outlets, cantina, a small hotel. An electrical store with a big sign announcing "Nuevos televisores de Sony en stock" caught his eye and he went over to it. Inside the shop looked like any other electrical store, Televisions and radios of varying sizes, manufactures and conditions were on display, along with electrical components, fuses, plugs, batteries and other general mundane items that you would expect to find in such a retail outlet. The proprietor was very prompt in attending his counter, smiling at the tall Colonel, although Rodriguez had noticed the quickly covered look of fear at having four security police in his establishment. "What can I do for you Colonel?" "I want some surveillance equipment. And something to make a radio transmitter and receiver." "We are not permitted to sell surveillance equipment Colonel. I only have receivers, you need a special licence to sell transmitters, as the Colonel should know." "I didn't say sell me a transmitter, I said sell me the parts to make a transmitter." "But Colonel, why would I do such a thing?" "Indulge me." He looked at the licence prominently displayed on the back wall of the shop. "Your licence is nearly expired, Luiz, I would not want to have to object to you getting a new one." "No Colonel, I would not." He gathered together about a hundred different parts and bagged them up. "There Colonel, your 'components'. No charge, then I cannot have sold them." "You are a bright man Luiz, perhaps your next licence will be better for business." "Gracias Colonel." "Has anyone been bulk buying components like this recently, say in the last six months?" "No Colonel." "You are certain?" "Yes Colonel, besides, I would have reported any such bulk purchases to your office." Rodriguez smiled again, then left, the shopkeeper nervously watching as he exited the shop. His smile became a grin as he started to walk away. Sometimes his job was easy. He handed the parts to one of his guards and continued his walk back to 'the office' at a brisk pace. ***** Reeves was waiting for the Ambassador to receive him and Jeremy Barker. It would have been possible for him to just go in, but he needed the Ambassadors' help and blessing for what he needed to do next so he was sticking to protocol. The Ambassador, Sir Frederick Hyde-Williams, was probably his worst nightmare, his b?te noir. An Oxford graduate, raised by his parents to follow in their footsteps in the Diplomatic Corps. Had all the advantages of his education, academically and diplomatically, but had a blind spot about 'the people' and how he behaved to them. So Reeves was prepared for a battle. Reeves tolerated Sir Frederick's interference because he was a very good diplomat with the locals, singlehandedly managing to keep the British Embassy open in San Carlos when the Junta gave the US embassy staff their marching orders. Sir Frederick held few politicians in high esteem, but his barely supressed contempt for most Americans had made Reeves' involvement in the current plot a sword of Damocles over his position, especially as President Venegas was one of the politicians that Sir Frederick did approve of. It was perhaps the Oxford and Sandhurst education of the San Carlosan dictator that had both saved the British Embassy and affected Sir Frederick's attitude. But the combination of the plot going astray, the American Presidential Election and the recent disappearances of various high-level members of the San Carlos establishment had put all covert activities in a bad light. The intercom buzzed, and the secretary nodded. "You can go in now Sir Paul." Reeves smiled and nodded an acknowledgement and led the younger Barker into Sir Frederick's presence. "Morning Sir Fredrick." "Morning Paul. Not like you to hang about, what do you want? Who, oh good morning Squadron Leader." "Sir Fredrick." "We had a message from London which I've been sitting on for a couple of days because it's awkward, diplomatically." "I'll be the judge of that." "You know we sent back that sample of blood and skin from 'Ray Barker' to Leicester University for this DNA testing. They checked it against the Squadron Leader's DNA and have discovered that the person we buried is not Ray Barker. Now I know they are holding him captive. I think I know where too, but I need you to talk to them. I would point out that officially, he is an associate, on the staff, attached to my section. So we have to push this as a tragic misidentification." "Squadron Leader?" "If my brother is still out there, then we should get him back. I don't fully understand this DNA stuff, not something I have studied, but I have seen the results and been told what should be there, and the body handed over as Raymond was not my brother." "So we do what?" "Politely ask them to search again, to see if they can find him. It would give them a chance to hand him back," Reeves replied. "They might just kill him to prevent him saying what they have really done." "With Alvarez in charge that would have been a certainty. But he's not in charge, he's also disappeared. Rodriguez is more pragmatic. He is also aware that there is a reason for us not to pursue any 'torture' accusations, because of our own agenda. It might be worth asking why they are importing petrol, with a nice new refinery of their own. After all, that was the real target of all this. We need to push the fact that we, the British, built most of their new infrastructure and can repair and maintain it, for a reasonable consideration." The two diplomats grinned at each other. ***** That afternoon Sir Frederick Hyde-Williams, Sir Paul Reeves and Squadron Leader Jeremy Barker presented themselves to the offices of the Minister of the Interior for an audience with Vice Admiral Marco. As they entered the building, Reeves took a very good look around. They were escorted to the lifts by half a dozen security police and two came with them in the lift, along with a lift operator. They disembarked with their escort at the floor below the penthouse. Two naval ratings joined the escort and they went along to the conference room. Inside they were met by Vice Admiral Marco and General Cortez. The guards positioned themselves outside the conference room, to ensure that the meeting was un- interrupted. There was a long period of introduction and then Marco asked the all- important question. "What is the problem Ambassador?" "We have a small problem of mis-identification. It seems that the poor unfortunate that we thought was Mr Raymond Barker is in fact a Mr Giles Redruth, a conservation zoologist who was assisting Mr Barker. He had only arrived on the day of the storm and no-one had noted his arrival as he had gone out to the mountains straight away." "Really?" Cortez asked. "Regretfully, yes. So it looks like Mr Barker is still missing. I don't suppose there is anyone in one of the local hospitals?" "Why has it taken this long to realise?" Marco asked. "Ah, we had to send the fingerprints and blood samples to London, and it seems this new DNA testing takes a while. Then they have to find something to compare it with to confirm the match," Reeves explained. "It has left us feeling very awkward. You see, if there is even the slightest chance that Mr Barker is still alive, in a hospital somewhere with amnesia or recovering in a small village somewhere, we have to ask if it is possible for you to look for him. If he is dead, then it would be nice to get his body." "If he is dead you would only find his bones. Condors and local scavengers would have made short work of his flesh," Cortez said, slightly harshly. "Please, can you look, I'd like to know if my brother really is alive, or have some part of him to bury." "It will take a large amount of manpower to search such a large area," Marco pointed out. "Her Majesties government would be most grateful for your help. I can probably persuade them to help you in return." "Really? How?" "You seem to be having problems with your refinery, given the amount of petrol and oil you are importing from Libya. As we helped you build it, we can perhaps send you some technicians to help get it working again. Or we can provide some equipment to help the search for Mr Barker." "This is a large job, I will consider and give you my decision." Marco's voice implied dismissal. "Of course Vice Admiral. Thank you for your assistance, I am glad I didn't have to trouble your President with this small problem." Sir Frederick was charming as he delivered his own threat. They left to return to the embassy. Cortez looked at Marco. "Well?" "You have this Barker?" "Possibly." "Why can't you give him back?" "National security." "Is he the 'woman' you have in my basement?" Cortez raised an eyebrow. "I have my sources too. I'd like to see this." "What do we tell the British?" "I think we should look, to put them off." "They know Barker is alive but the German is pushing to take over. Until I know what is happening there I cannot let the British know what has happened." "Send a large squad to search, you can get the air force to do fly overs." Cortez nodded in agreement and left. ***** By evening Rachel was exhausted and a little confused by the day's events. The conversation with Rodriguez had put her on her mettle, forcing her to both defend what had been done and accentuate her current helplessness. The afternoon hadn't improved matters as the first of the new regimes' changes had been instigated. She was taken into the gym and spent three hours exercising and resting, exercising and resting, working her way around the equipment under Carmelita's guidance. She was restricted to a slow walk on the treadmill and cross-trainer, pending authority from Dr Juanita as she had started to call Sanchez-Montoya. After supper, including the obligatory oestrogen tablets, no longer disguised but essential, she had spent another hour with Rosaria learning about the clothes in the walk-in wardrobe. Once Rosaria had left, Rachel went into the bathroom to clean off her make-up. As she stood in front of the mirror to apply the cold-cream she looked at her face. There was something about how she looked. Before the surgery she thought it had been a trace of her mother, but now there was something else, at least she thought so. The realisation had been growing but there was no recognition. It could be that she was not used to having hair almost brushing her shoulder-blades. As she dried her face, so the reaction from the day started to hit her and she sat heavily on the toilet. This was getting too much. She could feel the tears pricking the lids of her eyes and she was suddenly grateful for the lack of surveillance in the bathroom as she sobbed softly into the towel. As she wept, so she realised that there was no stigma to a woman crying, indeed many of the men she was surrounded by would have expected much more, as had apparently happened with Maria Alvarez. 'But then,' she smiled at the thought, 'she was British! Where was her stiff upper lip?' Her laugh was a little hysterical after that thought and she realised that there was a lot more to surviving this incarceration than just learning a few gestures and how to handle a skirt in a wind. ***** 27. A Lot to Learn Give instruction to a wise man, and he will be yet wiser: teach a just man, and he will increase in learning. Proverbs ***** A month passed with the new guidelines. On the thirtieth day Rachel sat at the dresser and started her morning routine. Checking for hair growth first, so that she could tell Carmelita, then brushing her growing hair forward, then back, then into a loose style. Finally, she picked up the scrunchy and looped her hair into a high pony tail while she did her make-up. Foundation, blusher, powder, lipstick, eye-shadow, mascara, eyeliner and then earrings. Finally, she went into the walk-in, selected an outfit, today it was a gingham dress with a V neckline, on her feet a pair of two-inch heeled black court shoes. Once she was ready, she walked over to the salon, where Carmelita was waiting to check out her appearance. Having gained approval for the outfit and actions, she sat in the hairdressers' chair and awaited a closer examination by Carmelita, to see if there were enough hairs to work on. Once the check was done, as there wasn't enough to work on today, Carmelita released and teased Rachel's hair out to see how the style was holding. Now it was reaching her shoulder-blades, Rachel was even more aware of her hair. The daily routine reached its first set of alternatives. As Carmelita was not going to do any electrolysis, she chose to teach Rachel about hair care. The fact that this was training a girl would, generally, have had in her teenage years was not lost on Rachel, who felt like a child as these lessons improved her understanding of the technicalities of outwardly being a woman. The lesson included practicing styling her own hair. She was surprised to find that her exercise periods were to be longer and to encourage strength building. It was becoming obvious that something major was in preparation, although she had little inkling as to what form it would take. She did find that the odd occasions when she saw Maria Alvarez, although these events were never face to face since the new system meant that they had opposing training schedules, that something seemed to be happening to the former Colonel to make her really depressed. That made her examine her own feelings and reactions. ***** Kepler's pushing for more details about Barker was beginning to get on Reeves' nerves. This insistence was pushy to start with, but it only served to solidify Reeves' distrust into near loathing and confirm that he was acting as a mole. What was awkward was the presence of Ray's brother, although that was soon to end, his leave was up soon and the Squadron Leader was to return to active duty with his squadron. So far he had managed to leave looking after Jeremy Barker to Barbara and the Embassy staff, he hoped it would stay that way. The time since the American's had left had not been wasted, however. Using some contacts, he had cultivated, Reeves had discovered that Rodriguez was an anglophile, who had been virtually raised in England. Now he knew which schools and where they had lived in England. If he could use anything, it would be some of that information. He had also managed to sneak someone into the Alvarez homestead. Someone, he didn't know who but suspected it had been Cortez, had arranged for all of Juan Alvarez' clothing to be removed from the house and many of his personal mementos too. The ultimate destination of the clothing was not sure, but the mementos all ended up at the Presidential bunker under the care of the newly promoted Major Ortega. Reeves thought for a long time about whether or not to approach Ortega, but decided against it at the moment. Because of that he still had no idea what was happening in the bunker. He was certain Ray was in the bunker, he was also sure that Alvarez was there too and not as an interrogator. A knock at the door disturbed his thoughts. Barbara poked her head in. "Mr Martinez has returned Sir. He's on his way from the airport with another American." "Make the necessary arrangements Barbara. Any idea who the other yank is?" "A Captain LaRue Sir. A marine I believe." "Wonderful. Very well." "Sir William is not going to like the American presence again sir." "Can't be helped Barbara. He knows that as well as we do. We are working with the Americans on this, otherwise we couldn't afford it. We're lucky they accepted Ray Barker almost as if he was one of their own. The advantages of his mixed parentage I suppose." "So what should I tell Liz?" "He should know; the American State Department would have contacted him to tell him they were on their way. Shame he didn't tell me." "Sir Paul?" "Never mind. Just make the arrangements." ***** About three weeks in a new nurse arrived as Head Medic, she kept to herself except when providing the daily hormone doses for both Barker and Alvarez. She split her time between the infirmary for issuing drugs and the control room for observing her patients. She seemed to be efficient and she did what Heinmann wanted, which was even more important. There were no more visits from Dr Sanchez-Montoya. ***** Martinez and LaRue arrived in Reeves' office ninety minutes after Barbara's warning. LaRue was a tall, dark haired man from Boston. In civvies he looked and obviously felt out of place. Martinez let the Captain do all the talking, although he didn't seem too impressed with his new boss. "We feel that more pressure needs to be put on the San Carlan Government to hand over Captain Barker. As you say, he is a diplomat, so he shouldn't be in custody at all." "Really," Reeves replied dangerously, his head inclined and his expression one of long suffering tolerance running out. "And what would you suggest Captain? An assault on the Interior Ministry by a regiment of marines?" "That would not be authorised for one man sir. But a small team might be able to infiltrate..." "Captain, Lieutenant Flanders succeeded in getting into the Interior Ministry and got himself killed for his troubles. Fortunately, because they are holding Captain Barker, we were able to avoid an international incident." "What actions have you taken since that incident sir?" "Captain... Oh very well, we have been visited by Captain Barker's brother and between us we have presented the people in the know with a diplomatic version of Habeas Corpus. We have proof that the man they said was Ray Barker was someone else, so they know we know. What we can do at the moment is wait." "My superiors want this situation resolved Mr Reeves." "Then I suggest you 'talk them down' Captain LaRue. Running around like a tornado will only ruin the work Ray has already done." "What work?" "Did they not brief you on Project Gusher?" "That's history." LaRue made a throwaway gesture to emphasise his point. At that even Martinez started to stand, as if to speak. "Captain LaRue. Much as I appreciate your government's position on this situation, I would point out to you that Project Gusher is an ongoing operation, and not just at the refinery. We can, if need be, strike at most of the infrastructure of this country in such a way that it looks like the people did it. They know this, we have enabled them, through Captain Barker's work, to discover some of the devices, to emphasise the threat. We need to push this and negotiate the deal for the oil and the other items, like a renewed American Embassy." LaRue gaped at Reeves' vehemence. "Ah, if you put it that way..." Reeves glanced up to the heavens and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon. ***** Two heads broke surface of the blue waters of the Mediterranean and moved towards the beach. One blonde, one water blackened brunette. The brunette emerged as a young man who smiled as he turned to help the blonde woman from the water. Not very far away from them another, much younger man, watched with a jealous edge to his voyeurism. He was also blonde haired, but nearer to the brown end of the spectrum. Familial facial features confirmed that the young man was related to the girl. He watched from his vantage point, hidden from them directly, but not in such a way that he might have been taken for spying on them. The couple reached an area of beach strewn only with towels and a few items of clothing. They began drying each other off and then the girl noticed her brother and waved to him. He waved back, then turned his attention, and his binoculars, back onto the waters of the Med. Occasionally he would look over at the couple on the towels in the sand and considering his feelings for the man with his sister. ***** Following his father's instructions was not easy for Johan. For the last five years he had been independent, or at least as independent as an amputee could be. The treatment he had received had been paid for by someone, possibly his father, possibly the American government, or the CIA. He didn't know for sure. But he did know that his father had asked him for all his memories of his sister, up to, but not including the fatal explosion in Tripoli. He made tape recordings of what he remembered on the cassette recorder his father had provided. He had no idea what the old man wanted the recordings for, except for his father's obsession with Alfrida. He was also hitting a brick wall with Sir Paul Reeves, who wouldn't reveal what he knew about Barker's imprisonment. So much so he had started to flirt with Barbara, Sir Paul's secretary, in the hope that she would let something slip, but that was also not showing any results. Indeed, she treated him a little like a child that has to be watched, but not indulged. He wished his father had given him a simpler task. ***** 28. Re-contact "The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place." -- George Bernard Shaw, Leadership Skills for Managers ***** Pressure from the Diplomatic Corps was getting worse. Reeves was beginning to lose patience with the hierarchy of the FCO as instigated in Her Majesties Embassy in San Carlos City. Reeves retired to his office. The day had gone particularly badly. Sir Frederick was talking of sending him back to London and getting someone 'halfway competent' to replace him. Bloody stuffed shirt. Just because he was the British Ambassador. Reeves poured himself a cup of tea, that would help him relax. If only he could figure out what was happening to Ray Barker. What had Tooting to do with the situation? Was it Tooting or Trooping? The last six weeks it had been driving him up the wall. He studied the new reports. Someone had sent some information about Heinmann and his family. Something other than the ready prepared answers Johan had given and the less than believable briefing from Langley that Martinez had shared. He knew the story of the brother and sister victims, but the new information gave him a few new facts. Although they were both part of Amnesty, the sister was an active participant, the brother a reluctant one. Often, according to the report, only joining in because his sister pushed him. The dynamics in that family were like having a cat and a ferret in the same bag. He looked for a distraction, something film related caught his eye. Amongst the bits of advertising he had received were flyers for Dick Tracy, Family Business and Rain-man. Obviously the distributors were pushing Dustin Hoffman films. He quite liked Hoffman as an actor. He tossed the fliers back onto the desk and picked up his tea cup and saucer, still thinking of Dustin Hoffman films. He was just in the process of sipping the brew when the realisation hit. Cup and saucer nearly wound up on the floor and he nearly choked on the mouthful of tea he had sipped, so it went all over the papers on the desk instead. "No it couldn't be? What on earth would he mean by that..." he blurted out. His secretary had heard the commotion and had stepped in to see what was wrong. "Are you all right Sir Paul? Mean by what?" "The main plot device of the film Tootsie... A man who plays a... Where's that report?" "Which report?" "The one they sent over with Flanders' body explaining why he died." "I'll get it." Once he had the report Reeves flicked through the lines looking for the key words. "There..." he said when he had found the relevant passage. He pointed it out to Barbara. 'had taken a female staying at the location' "What does it mean Sir Paul?" "It means we have a monumental problem on our hands, which we can't talk about or communicate by normal means. Oh and nothing to the American and especially not to young Kepler. Loose lips sink ships Barbara." "We are hardly at war Sir Paul." "Barbara, we are British, we are always at war, it's just that hostilities don't always follow." He grinned expansively. "Now, how to let London know. Ah, of course. Barbara I need Sir Thomas on the scrambler." "But ..." "Now Barbara please." She shook her head in disbelief and went to connect the required call. She returned about six minutes later. "He's not available until 09:30 Zulu Sir." "And it's currently?" He looked at the clock marked GMT above the door. "Ah, 19:15 Zulu. Arrange that then would you Barbara." "But that's halfway through the night Sir Paul." "You had better make sure my alarm goes off then, hadn't you?" Shaking her head again, she returned to her desk while he mopped up the tea. Smiling for the first time that day he went to his cocktail cabinet and poured himself a Gin and Tonic. ***** Down in the bunker Rachel was unaware that a version of her message had finally been deciphered, although she was expecting someone to have received the message. She checked the time, then went into the bathroom and looked for a new tube of lubricant. Opening the box, she took out the tube and noticed an extra piece of paper. It was another printed note. "Message intercepted, have tried to pass on intel. Hold on. Soon be free. - Strike me down, and I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." As she disposed of the note Rachel tried to figure out who the messages were coming from, without success. Just recently almost anyone could have been in the rooms so her thoughts had turned to the last sentence of the note. Heartening words, but it did have one effect she hadn't expected; fear. Looking at herself in the mirror she had accept the realisation that she didn't want to go back into real life. Also, what did the note-writer mean by Message Intercepted? Had someone found the lipstick note on Flanders? If they had, why hadn't she been challenged on it? How long had that note been there? Looking at the reflection again reminded her of her plight. How would she fare outside? Here in the bunker she was cosseted, wrapped in cotton-wool, safe and unchallenged. What would happen if she was to go out into the daylight? Here everyone treated her as if she were a woman, would she pass examination in an open environment? Dare she ask to find out? "You look concerned." The suddenness of the comment made her squeak in surprise and turn to the doorway to see Major Ortega standing there. "How long have you been there?" "Not long. What you think about?" "Nothing." "What nothing? You look inquieto, not settled." "Why are you worried?" "Maria, she not happy, she inquieto, mucho. You look as she do." Rachel looked at Ortega again, he had a thoughtful look on his face, possibly even genuine concern? He certainly had concern for the other captive in the bunker. "What do you mean? Look like she does?" "She not happy. She worry much about what she looks. What people say if she leave here." "She does have a past reputation for ruthlessness, could she not rely on that?" "You not know country well, Senorita Barker. Women here, are the nurturers of the country, the Madre. They not in command of anything." "Your error, women are usually very good decision makers." "Senorita Rachel, Maria is a nobody, worse she is a nobody who had been somebody. I think you think same way." "No, I don't know how good your work is." "You say your friend, the Americano who tried to rescue you, didn't know you. That is proof you not be mistaken for a man." "Maybe." "If you talk Maria, I talk Doctor, maybe sort get you fresh air?" "What would I talk to her about?" "Being woman. You mucho good." Rachel shrugged her shoulders and followed Ortega out of the suite and into the corridor. He stopped and let her pass him. Before they went any further Ortega said, conversationally. "And what was in the note you flushed away?" Rachel managed to keep moving despite her shock. "What note?" "I will look more next inspection." He moved past her and guided her to the salon, where Carmelita and Rosaria were trying to sort out Maria. Taking a deep breath, Rachel steeled herself to three things, one, not to use Spanish; two, to try and listen to herself, in case she needed to take her own advice and three, to watch her back, she needed those notes, they proved that someone was looking out for her. ***** Reeves returned to his office in the early hours on the morning to pick up the phone and speak to his superior in London. "Good morning Sir Thomas. Reeves here. We have received a hint as to the fate of 'Leatherman'." "Really? Is it reliable Reeves?" "It's all we have T. My problem is still that I cannot contact or confirm the existence of 'Daffodil' so I cannot verify anything, but someone sent us a message from the bunker after Flanders went over the wall and got himself killed. Just a single word, as I reported. I had inspiration earlier as to the real word which makes me think that our mutual friend has done what you said he did to you in the second year at school." "Really? Oh. Why would... 'Bookworm's' there isn't he? That may be a big factor. Okay. We've sent you the full DNA report that we got from Leicester University. Use that to push for any information you can as to 'Leatherman's' whereabouts. I agree that this is a most unexpected and worrying development. I gather you think 'Bookmark' is looking for a transfer?" "Already on loan I would say." "Really? Okay, treat as hostile. Arsenal are still unbeaten, you still on for that bet? That's Liverpool for League One, 'Quins for Premiership and England for the Ashes...Well you've already as good as lost the last one with the Aussies up by two. We'll see. Have a good time..." "T. A fact you might not have, the doctor we have monitored going in and out of Interior is Sanchez-Montoya, a urologist." "Any other facts I don't have? Paul this is not good. Freddie is being a screaming queen over your activities, or 'lack of activity' and now you are telling me we may have really lost 'Leatherman'? That would be the final straw on the camel. Use the DNA evidence to push Cortez or Rodriguez. Hell, if you must, then brief Freddie on the full SP. He can bully his chum Fernando into telling him the truth." "If what I think is true, the order would have come from President Venegas, may have been requested by 'Bookworm', but the order would have come from the top. Sanchez-Montoya is his doctor." "That's unusual isn't it, to have a Urology specialist as a physician." The voice from London held a note of curiosity. "Now that you mention it T it's something that hadn't occurred to me before." "I wish you'd stop that. Paul, it's been years." "But it's so apt 'T'." Reeves was grinning broadly as he spoke. "So you think there is a reason for Sanchez-Montoya being the President's physician. The only things I can think of are bowel or bladder problems." "Really Paul?" "There's not much... You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting are you Tom?" "Find out would you? Not the President, I've met him, but someone in the close family." "Like I'm going to meet President Venegas and talk to him about why he has a female doctor who does sex changes on the side." "Could that be what happened to your disappearing Colonel?" "Practice for the surgeon? Could be, 'Bookworm' would find that a challenge for his plans." "It would explain his complete disappearance without an explanation." "People disappear every day here Tom, it's not unusual." "But Alvarez wasn't People, he was a symbol of terror. To have fallen so far from the top won't sit well with someone of his reputation." "Perhaps that will cause our momentum shift." "Tom. If we're right, if they have done that to Ray, what are we going to do about it? How can we possibly put his life back together?" "You worry about getting the plan completed. Another thing, under no circumstances are the Americans to know about this unless they bring it to us. It's their fault so I'm not going to give them a head start on buck passing." "They're not that bad." "Flanders? I remind you that's twice he's been involved with Leatherman and Bookworm. People died each time, this time it was him and the back- up team and Rays' main team, that's twenty people we've lost. Americans are trouble. They are wonderfully brave people Paul, but I don't like working with them." A knock at the door surprised Reeves, he whispered into the phone, "Hold on a sec T." Then called, "Who is it?" "Squadron Leader Barker." "Just a minute." He picked the phone up again and hissed down the line. "Another thing T. Why have I got Ray's brother here? Do I tell him?" "Good God no. Time enough for that if it's true. He's officially there because of the memorial service, he has been briefed about the DNA results so he may be a good lever to get some real information." "You mean he's a shill for me to work. Thanks T. Hope I get to punch you one of these days." "Never going to happen Paul, good day." "Wait..." The line went dead and Reeves returned the handset to the cradle. "Come in." It was only the third time he had met Squadron Leader Barker, the first time being at the airport, the second the visit to the Interior Ministry. This time he was standing there in a pair of RAF blue pyjamas and black slippers. He was clean shaven, with regulation short hair. Like Ray, he had blue eyes, but his nose favoured his father rather than his mother. It could be seen that he was Ray's brother, however. Reeves smiled as Jeremy Barker came up to the desk. "Was that London?" He asked. "Was what... Oh, no." "Really? It would be office hours in Whitehall about now," "If you knew I was on to London, why did you ask?" "To see if you'd lie." "Okay, now what?" "What is happening Sir Paul?" "We have confirmed that the body we were told was Ray was not him, so we are going to ask them to look for him. We think they have him as a captive, although we have no idea where or why." "Because he was either spying or blowing things up. He was always a reckless fool, I found that out as a child. You think he is still alive?" "We hope so. Unfortunately, people disappear here quite regularly, as I just reminded London." Jeremy Barker Sat down opposite Reeves and looked at him. "I'm not in a mood to sleep. Tell me what I am allowed to know." "What you are allowed to know? Okay, but it won't be a long conversation." ***** Ortega returned Maria to her quarters. As they went around the control room block so a couple of the guards emerged from the stores and made their way towards the barracks door opposite. One of them made a comment behind his hand as they noticed the former tyrant. Ortega noticed the action and waited for a few seconds and then called out. "You two come here." They quickly schooled their faces emotionless and came over and saluted the Major. "Sir?" "What are your current duties?" "We are due to relieve the guards on the supply lift in two hours." "Relieve them now." "Sir?" "Relieve them now, and in the extra two hours of guard duty you can think how lucky you are that it was me that caught you talking about what is happening here. For if you will talk about it here, you are likely to talk about it when topside. And General Cortez would have your lives, Presidential Guard or not, and the lives of your families. Report, before I change my mind." The two guards went into the barracks, collected the rest of their kit and made their way to the supply lift to relieve the guard. Ortega got Maria back into her room and then went out to the supply lift to ensure the men were there. Then he went upstairs to sort out other things. There he received his new orders, to go on an inspection tour. ***** Reeves was back into his normal duties; he was in the middle of his routine reports when Barbara brought in a little note. To Reeves' surprise it was addressed 'To Yoda' and the signature was an image of a daffodil. "Where did you get this?" "A child handed it in." "How come I got it?" "Everyone knows you are a Star Wars fan, at least in the embassy." "Okay, thank you Barbara, no interruptions unless it's a nuclear threat." "Yes Sir Paul." 'So finally a message from the mysterious Daffodil' He thought and opened the note. Like the notes Ray had been getting, this had been printed mechanically. "Need to establish contact. You pawn has been Queened but is trapped by a knight, a rook and a bishop. Beware your pawn in the back row. - Mos Eisley spaceport: You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious." 'Well that seems to confirm the gender change, who is this Daffodil? Must be close to the coal face to have these details. The pawn is obviously Johan. Knight is probably Cortez, or Rodriguez. Bishop is Heinmann, high priest of his father's research, rook? If Rodriguez is Knight, then rook would be Cortez. That makes more sense. Bloody hell, this is dynamite.' He started to draft a report for London, then decided to make it a personal report to Sir Thomas. After all, this was something that would need careful handling. ***** 29. Debts Owed. In this business, if you don't pay your debts you're finished. Roger Stone ***** Another week went by since the conversation with Ortega and Rachel had noticed the absence of the two senior men from the team, she had seen no-one else for that whole week, just Carmelita, and occasionally Rosaria and the nurse who brought her pills. She spoke with Carmelita, who did half an hour of electrolysis and then decided it was time to restyle her hair. However, before she could start Captain Constantine entered the salon. "Instructions." He handed a note to Carmelita. She opened the paper and read the note. "Who ordered this?" She asked. "Heinmann of course. He's in charge now." "I still work for the President. This is not a good idea." "Do it, or he will have you replaced, permanently." "I will do this, but this is not right." Rachel looked at the two of them, confusion on her face and concern in her eyes. "We have try a new style and colour." Carmelita explained. "What has Heinmann to do with this? I heard his name, is he behind this?" "Yes. Please, I not be here if you refuse." "Oh I don't intend to refuse. I'd like to see what that proto-fascist has planned for me." "I have to dye your hair blonde." "I was expecting that. Go ahead. I've got all day." Rachel was actually looking forward to experiencing this aspect of feminine haircare. Carmelita went to the store and collected the utensils and the required dye. She covered Rachel's clothes with a simple cape, then covered the cape with a plastic poncho. She then divided the hair into sections, exposing the hair at the back of Rachel's neck. Section by section Carmelita applied the dye to Rachel's' hair using a tint brush, rather like a thin 1?" paintbrush. As each larger section of dyed hair was completed, she combed the hair to even out the dye. It took nearly three-quarters of an hour to complete the task to Carmelita's satisfaction. Then she used tweezers to apply the dye to Rachel's eyebrows. While they waited for the dye to do its work Carmelita checked and manicured Rachel's fingernails, all the while explaining what Rachel should do to keep the nails neat and tidy. After forty-five minutes Carmelita lead Rachel to the hair washing couch and she rinsed the dye off, finishing with a wash and conditioning. Cold pads were used on the eyebrows to finish the procedure. Returning to the main chair, she set up the cone hair-dryer on a low setting for about five minutes. Rachel was surprised when the dryer cut off and was removed for she felt her hair was still damp. Then Carmelita combed through the hair and drew it into three hanks before beginning to cross-over the honey blonde hair into a French plait. Once it was secured with an elastic ring and a butterfly clip, that Rachel realised had come with the instructions, the change of image was almost complete. Rachel stared at the reflection in the mirror of a, slightly severe looking, blonde woman. The severity accentuated by the tightness of the hair locked into the French plait. Memories flashed across her mind and clicked into place. Now what she needed to do was find out where Heinmann was going with this. With Carmelita supervising Rachel's training and appearance during the day, it had fallen to Rosaria to find a helper for her to work with Maria. She found a hairdresser and beautician, Sofia, that Hernandez and Ortega vetted and introduced her to their pupil. At first it seemed to be okay, but things went downhill quite quickly, although none of it was to do with Sofia. That morning, while Carmelita was working on Rachel, Rosaria and Sofia went to check on her pupil. Maria Alvarez was not in the best of moods when she was joined by the two women. She was entering an increasingly deep depression. Already Dr Juanita had had to assist her with the physical maintenance by assigning a nurse to supervise. Now they found her sitting on her bed, half out of her nightdress and hair in total disarray. She had obviously been crying. "What's the matter?" Rosaria asked. There was no reply. She sent Sofia to find Ortega, hoping that he had returned from the task that Cortez had sent him on. She had noticed that this deterioration in Maria's behaviour whenever he was gone, but this was something else. Then she noticed the way that Maria was sitting, with her legs spread wide. She knelt before the distraught woman. "What's the matter Maria?" "It's all gone, isn't it? Everything, My manhood, my position, my possessions, everything." The tears stared to fall again. "But that was done to you months ago. You are learning to be a woman now." "But no-one thinks of me as a woman." "That is not true Maria, we all accept you as a woman, Juanita, Carmelita, Sofia, Rachel. We all think of you as Maria." "Does Rachel count?" "Of course she does, just as you do. Carlos Ortega, he thinks of you as a woman, and Colonel Rodriguez." Sofia returned to the room shaking her head. "Only Captain Constantine is in the control room. Major Ortega is not there or in his room." Maria looked at them, yet her eyes were distant. They seemed confused by her emotional state. She needed to talk to Ortega, or Rodriguez. "We'll take her to see Carmelita, we need to do her hair anyway," Rosaria decided, speaking softly to Sofia. Firmly, she guided Maria into putting on the nightdress properly and added a dressing-gown for modesty, she then took Maria's right arm, with Sofia supporting her on the left and they made their way gently through the barracks area. Several soldiers were moving around, some of the having just eaten, others on their way off duty and still more on their way to the cantina. A number of them looked at the trio with undisguised lust, at least for Rosaria and Sofia, which also seemed to disturb Maria. Two soldiers, Maria recognised them as the soldiers who Ortega had not liked, were returning from their meal and held the doors for the trio. They then continued on their journeys, the guards to the barracks, the trio to the Salon. They made their way into the Salon and stopped in surprise when they saw Rachel's new hairstyle for the first time. The sight of the blonde haired woman seemed to trigger something in Maria. She lost her depression and was suddenly screaming, in English, at the top of her voice as she rushed at Rachel. "You bitch; this is your fault! You made this happen!" Rosaria and Sofia where so taken aback by the sudden change that Maria was two-thirds of the way to Rachel before they realised she had gone. Carmelita reacted much faster, however and stood between them, grabbing Maria to hold her while the others regained their wits. "What's all this about?" "That blonde bitch, she's set me up!" "What is she on about?" Rachel asked, looking a little scared by the absolute fury in Maria's eyes. "Go to store Rachel, wait there." Rachel went to the back of the salon as quickly as she could while Carmelita held Maria, who was struggling hard. "Where's she going? Bring her back here, bloody blonde bitch!" The more she spoke, the more her voice sounded English. "Maria, calm down!" "Who's this bloody Maria? My name's Katie. Bring that bloody bitch back here I want to smash her bleedin' face in." Rosaria joined Carmelita in holding on to Maria/Katie. Carmelita looked at Sophia. "There is a wig on the block, take it to Rachel and put it on her. Hide ALL the blonde hair." Sofia looked confused, but did as she was told while Carmelita and Rosaria handled the struggling woman. "Katie. What do you want?" she asked, hoping that she would get a sensible answer. "I owe that blonde cow a kicking." "Calm down, we will sort out this. Sit. Rosaria will wash your hair, you relax." "Okay then." Almost as quickly as she had lost it so 'Katie' relaxed. Carmelita relaxed her grip slowly, but the wild-cat seemed to have gone and a pliant woman took up position on the wash-couch. As Rosaria washed her hair, so 'Katie' hummed a tune. Rachel, the blonde plait hidden beneath a shoulder length brown bob wig, crept out of the salon with Sofia and went to her room. Once there she went into the bathroom, removed the wig and looked at the colour and hairstyle again. There could only be one explanation of what had happened, but how had it been done? When had Heinmann been able to get to Maria? That triggered another worry, if he could get to Maria and Program that dramatic a change in her, without being in the bunker, what could he do to Rachel herself? The blonde hair wasn't just as a trial to check the trigger on Maria, that she was sure of. It was to do with their history, and his obsession; Alfreida. ***** Rosaria washed 'Katie's' hair and then handed over to Carmelita and Sofia, who had returned. "What style?" Carmelita asked. "Meg Ryan from 'When 'Arry met Sally'." Sofia looked confused because although Rachel had been removed, Maria was still behaving as 'Katie'. "Where you from Katie?" Carmelita asked. "Croydon, South London." Carmelita listened to the reply then instructed, "Rosaria, find Rodriguez." While preparing to style her customer's hair. "If you need to, phone headquarters." Rosaria went out into the main barracks area to look for Rodriguez. While she was looking, she noticed that Dr Heinmann had arrived and was talking with Captain Constantine. Finally, having been unable to find him in the officers' rooms, she went to the service entrance and used their telephone to call the police headquarters and asked for Colonel Rodriguez to attend the bunker, since it seemed he was not there either. As she made her way back she found herself following Dr Heinmann and Constantine as they made their way towards the salon. Heinmann did not seem happy. "You were supposed to be there, to control the reaction and set the control words." "Rosaria and Sofia were trying to calm her, they took her to the salon and I was required in the control room. Since the two main commanders are not here I have to run the entire bunker." "Arranging for other work to occupy Ortega was necessary. He was interfering in the programming. As to Rodriguez, he has other problems on his hands. Let us hope you have not undermined the Program by your absence." Rosaria hung back and made her way into the canteen to allow the duo to go into the corridor to the salon. She wasn't sure if they knew she was behind them or that she could hear what they had been saying. The serving man waved to her and she went to him. He handed her a tray with lunch for Rachel. She decided to take it and use the opportunity to see what the other captive made of the situation. Rachel was sitting in the armchair in the boudoir when Rosaria arrived with her dinner. "Oh, you didn't have to do that Rosaria, one of the guards would have brought it." "Dr Heinmann, he with Maria now." "I bet he is. Help me pick an outfit for him." Rachel went into the wardrobe, followed by Rosaria. Once inside Rachel turned to the beautician. "Okay, what's going on?" "What you mean?" "Why the interest in my well-being?" "I not understand, Heinmann make Maria strange woman, he talk like he plan it. He say he get Ortega and Rodriguez sent away." "He would have to. They care too much about the people we are, even if we are prisoners. And he plans the same for me." "He was saying about programador... programming Maria and Command words." "That was his father's speciality." Rachel paused in thought, unconsciously continuing. "He obviously got the files from his father that my grandfather tried to get in 45." "I no understand Rachel. But Constantine, he work for Heinmann too, part of plan. I know not who trust," "First rule Rosaria, 'Trust No-one'. Not even me. If he can Program a late middle-aged South-American to believe she is an Englishwoman from South London, he could probably... Oh my God." "Are you okay Rachel?" "I am at the moment. But I have no idea how long that could last. You'd better get back and keep an eye on Maria, or whatever her name is now." "You must change clothes, look wrong in here so long." "I will, and thank you. Muchas gracias." "For bad man, you nice woman." Rosaira left and Rachel carried out a skirt suit and contrasting bottle- green blouse which she laid on the armchair while she sat at the table to have her lunch. So many things were now starting to come together for her, and they were coming together in a way that was not at all to her liking. Not since Ray had been persuaded that he should be the Judas Goat for this plan had she felt so manipulated. Sighing, she pushed the half-eaten meal away and started to undress. She modified her make-up, from foundation all the way up to blend in with the blonde hair. Once she had completed that she changed clothes she, then looked in the mirror. Memories of a relationship from not that long ago went through her mind, memories of a very similar face looking back at him. ***** Rosaria got back to the salon just as Sofia and Carmelita were completing 'Katie's' new hairstyle. Heinmann and Constantine were watching and waiting while the two women finished the job. Between the two groups was a suitcase. As she moved past, Rosaria noticed the initials KMF on the front of the case. "Ah, Rosaria, pick an outfit for Katherine will you, her suitcase in there," Constantine instructed. Bemused by all the changes, Rosaria opened the suitcase and found a collection of clothing suitable for a woman about ten years younger than Alvarez had been. She chose a lightweight skirt-suit in pale blue with a navy blue blouse, black low-slung backless shoes with a small Cuban heel and a matching black handbag. Between them, they got Katie dressed and then she faced Heinmann. He looked at her and smiled. "Temper over?" He asked. "She left me for dead, I have a right to want to kick her." "No you do not. She left you for good reasons, you were treated, you are better now." "Okay." "She will be back here soon; I want your word you will behave." "But!" "Your word!" "Oh okay, Guides' honour." Heinmann nodded and Constantine left to collect Barker. Rachel was waiting, nervously, for the summons to arrive. She knew that another confrontation would be expected. She wondered why Heinmann had changed Alvarez into a Brit? How was a matter of family record. Although the actual physicality of it was still unknown. Constantine arrived in the boudoir and Rachel rose and followed him. He seemed a little surprised that she was both waiting for him and prepared to follow immediately. He had been expecting to have to drag Barker to the salon, so he had four guards with him. "Dr Heinmann would like to introduce an old friend." "Oh and who is Alvarez now?" "Her name is Katharine Fellows." Rachel stopped in her tracks. "How on.... Never mind." She continued walking, her mind racing to assimilate these new facts. He had known the original Katharine briefly, but she had worked with the Heinmann family, until her untimely demise. So a lot of her background would have been known to Heinmann. Constantine opened the salon door an allowed Rachel to enter. There was no scream and sound of running this time, instead she saw 'Katie' standing next to Heinmann. She even looked something like the original with the hairstyle and make-up. Heinmann looked up and smiled. "Ah, my little girl." It looked as though he was expecting something to happen. He paused for a moment, his expressing changing to one of confusion. He had obviously engineered this to trigger some kind of mental shift in her mind as well, Rachel surmised. "Do you not recognise your friend my dear?" "Hello Kath," Rachel said, firmly in English. "Have you nothing to say to me Alfreida?" Rachel looked up at the use of the name and was suddenly aware of almost a whole lifetime of new memories filling her conscious mind, but the main thrust, the trigger to make her acknowledge the new identity as hers, seemed to have dry-panned. She smiled at Heimann, knowing what he expected her to say, yet fully aware of the fact that she didn't have to say it. He had given her the memories, but she knew they weren't hers. Apparently her development as Rachel had separated her from his programming, perhaps because of the psychological programming she had received pre-mission. But now she would have to play along. "Hello Father, how are you?" The look of shock which came over the faces of Carmelita, Sofia and Rosaria were impressive, Rachel thought, but not unexpected, they had apparently seen two women who they have nurtured, protected and trained, totally change personalities. She turned to Katie. "I hope you have recovered?" "Bloody lucky they didn't turn the machines off; you owe me for that." "I'm sorry Kath. I really am." Rachel took the other woman in her arms and hugged her tightly. This was going to be a monumental task, especially if she was to not let the new memories take over and wipe out both Ray and Rachel. The reunion went on for nearly an hour, while Heinmann checked that the new personalities were in place. To Rachel's relief he seemed satisfied with her performance, thankfully the memories were accessible and so the checks he made were met. Back in her quarters, Rachel removed her clothes and laid them out carefully. The memory of Alfreida being disciplined by her father for untidiness being uppermost in the process, because a slip like that would be picked up on by the meticulous Heinmann. ***** Carlos Ortega struggled to control his frustration. This was all wrong, he was too far away from the Capitol to be any use; This inspection tour of the bo