Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance novel Chapter 57

The Present

Bech drives along in the dark, making his way to the rendezvous.

Finally….

Got the bitch….

Once Klempner’s had his little party….

…. Got it out of his system….

Should be able to persuade him to get rid of her….

…. and the other one….

If they just disappear, there’ll be a fuss for a while, then it should be back to business as usual….

…. Need to find a new base….

His good humour vanishes as he considers his personal situation, the hair-raising moment when he heard the message on the radio and realised his cover was blown.

Almost walked into that….

Need to get a change of ID….

And a different area. Maybe a different country?

…. fucking inconvenient….

…. Still, can’t make omelettes without breaking a few eggs….

Might be nice to make a fresh start…. A change of air….

Someplace more third-world maybe….

…. Where a few bribes mean you can get on with the business….

As he approaches the isolated building, even from several miles away, against the dark and velvet night, light can be seen playing weirdly across the blackness, flashing amber and blue against the blackness.

What the fuck…?

Bech slows the car, thinking. He flips a square of gum from a packet, chewing thoughtfully, then turning off, takes a side road.

The track is barely a road at all, simply mud and rock deeply rutted. Occasionally something scrapes or bangs under the chassis, but he continues his long detour, watching the skyline all the while. After some while, driving at a snail’s pace, he turns off his headlights.

At the last moment, he avoids a collision with another vehicle, an off-roader, parked, but jutting into the track.

What the fuck?

In this lonely spot, why should there be another vehicle parked?

Campers?

Poachers?

Then, risking a little light, he flashes a torch over the plate….

It’s his….

…. Summerford’s….

As silently as he can, he passes the vehicle, driving another few hundred feet along; far enough to be beyond casual discovery. Then, still well away from his target, he pulls up.

Creeping through the darkness, cautiously he approaches the isolated farmhouse.

A shadow against deeper shadows, he watches:

The area is a mess of police cars and ambulances. A prisoner security van pulls in and cuffed figures are pushed inside. Bech counts.