Life Changing Accident

"Well...thanks for the 'looking great' comment but a little less so the 'for a woman of my age' part."

"I hope you'll take it as a compliment, I'm usually drawn to younger women but you...I could really go for you looking like that."

"Well, I'm as ready as I'm going to be I guess."

Gavin produced a shoulder bag and held it against my skirt, he pulled a face, "It doesn't match...will it matter very much?"

"I have my own hand bag thanks...mind you, that doesn't much match my outfit either."

"Yes...but your handbag doesn't have a pinhole camera in the buckle on its shoulder strap or a transmitter linked to the recording equipment in the van."

I inspected the bag, there was no way I could have spotted the lens of the camera even though I knew it was there, I lifted the flap on the bag, there was a packet of tissues, a large box of condoms, a thong, a purse and a mobile phone, there was also a silver rivet where the strap met the bag and that was a hidden on/off switch so that I could record men approaching me up close.

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I gave Gavin a surprised look!

"It's a kit for hooker patrol, just in case someone grabs your bag, the phone comes preloaded with two hundred men's contacts in its contacts, they all link through to our control room where a man will answer and pretend to know you...it's all just in case, every eventuality covered."

We walked out to the van, it was yellow and sign written for 'Peel Emergency Plumbing', and a London address and telephone number. Gavin pulled the door open and slid the messy tool tray out of the way. I looked inside the van, it was exactly the same as the electrician's van from yesterday.

"How many of these vans do we have?"

"Just one, the garage peeled the electrical company's vinyl wrap off this morning and recovered it in the new vinyl, it only takes them two hours, they don't have to make a brilliant job of it, it needs to look a little grubby."

There was an oily smudge just behind the sliding door as if the runner holding the sliding door in place had dripped down the side of the van but it was actually printed into the plastic wrap glued to the side of the van.

I drove to the red light district and parked on the front of an empty factory unit, I parked with the driver's side to the wall of the building so that I could slip out without being seen by anyone out on the street. I had one of the tiny in ear radio units that looked like a miniature hearing aid. I was just about to step out from behind the van when my ear piece crackled, "Stop, someone's walking past."

I waiting until Gavin told me that the coast was clear before I stepped out into the street. I made sure that I was in sight of the van and its array of hidden cameras as I walked up and down. To make a bust the man had to approach me and offer me cash for sex or offer to sell me drugs. We didn't really mind which but the arrest did involve me getting into a car with them so that we could drive away from the red light district so that the arrest didn't drive away other customers or working girls.

Gavin managed to film and record three prostitutes before anyone approached me. Our chase team made the arrests in various out of the way car parks and blind alleyways.

A trucker pulled up at the side of me and asked me if I knew the way to the local refuse site. I rattled off the list of directions, "That's too difficult to remember love...if you're not busy...perhaps you could jump in here with me and show me the way!"

Gavin's voice came through my ear, "We don't have anyone to back you up and he hasn't incriminated himself...walk away from him."

"Sorry love, I'm a little busy at the moment, when you get out onto the main road ask again."

The driver looked disappointed and drove slowly down the road looking for another woman to entice into his cab.

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"You sound excited!"

"What?"

"I can hear your breathing and your heartbeat...sounds to me like you're turned on."

"Not something I can help, he was handsome and I got the feeling that he wanted more than directions from me."

"I've never been linked with anyone who's reacted quite so rapidly or so dramatically...I can see that I'm going to have to watch you like a hawk."

I felt another jump in my excitement level just from him telling me just how easily he could read my body's reaction through the little transceiver built into my ear and as my excitement level jumped I heard Gavin laughing in my ear.

"Tango two back on station."

Gavin's voice crackled in my ear, "Vicky, we have a chase car free so start parading again."

I started walking up and down, we'd taken three women off the street so even though it was early I was getting a lot of interest from passing drivers, every time I spoke to one of the men Gavin chuckled in my ear because I was getting turned on by the men's attempts at picking me up. I couldn't do anything to entrap the punters and they'd seen enough 'Police Procedures' on TV to know not to tell a woman what they wanted for cash out in the street so I ended up dancing around the issue, talking to lots of men, getting more and more turned on as my shift went on.

The area we were working wasn't the street where the high end whores worked, the women who had a room to go to while they earned a living, take the sex off the streets and into the privacy of a flat or a house. We were working the bottom of the heap, the women who would screw a guy in the street to get enough money for their next drug fix, the girls who created a nuisance to the good citizens of the area, fuck in public spaces, litter the place with used condoms, skanky tissues and then used syringes as well. We'd got the job of hunting the whores, the johns, the pimps and the drug dealers all in one operation.

At six o'clock Gavin called a break for lunch, I stood at the back of the van and as soon as Gavin gave me the all clear, I ducked down the side of the van and into the driving seat, I drove the van to a pub a mile away from the street we had been working, four cars and our plumber's van. I was the first to walk into the pub and the landlord jumped out from behind the bar, "Sorry love, I'm not allowed to serve you, you can use the toilet if you need to and rest for ten minutes but then you have to go or I could lose my licence."

Gavin's voice crackled in my ear again, "Ha...ha, he thinks you're a real prostitute!"

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I gave the landlord a sweet smile, I'd seen the license plate over the front door of the pub and it gave joint licensees names, I said, "Are you Joseph Somali or Paul Scofield?"

"I'm Paul, why?"

"I need to know whom to cite in my defamation of character court case."

"What?"

"Well, you've just called me a common prostitute and when we get to court I'll be able to prove that I'm not!"

I was suddenly surrounded by my eight co-workers and Gavin asked the landlord if we could push two tables together, "It's Harry's fiftieth birthday party and we'd like to have a meal together."

Because it was our lunch and not our dinner we really needed something a little simpler than the dinner menu so the landlord allowed us to pick from his lunchtime menu rather than his dinner menu. The pub was old, built in the Victorian era and massive but since the number of drinkers fell the pub had started doing meals as well as real music, quiz nights and live sports matches on big screen TVs...anything to draw customers in to the pub.

I finished my meal first and two of the guys with a sweet tooth had ordered puddings so we'd be waiting a little longer before we returned to the red light district.

It sounded like thunder rolling in, I looked out of the back window of the pub but couldn't see a sign of clouds so was curious about where the thunder was coming from, Gavin and I both still had our in-ear communicators in so as I stood up I said, "I'm just going to check, something sounds wrong!"

I walked along the passageway past the toilets to the front door, the thunder was getting louder and suddenly its source came into view. At first it looked like a big banana but when it turned into the car park it was a sports car, the name on the front said it was a Hennessey, I realised that it had to be the Venom F5, this was no rich man's toy, this was a million pound plus car, this was for the seriously wealthy.

I took the mobile phone out of the shoulder bag and dialled the telephone number that was plastered on the side of the fake plumbers van, "Hi, Vicky Clark here, can you check on a car registration number for me please, it looks like 'SOM 41I' or that could be an 'L' at the end."

The answer came back in a flash, "Neither option is a registered vehicle index mark."

"Well, it looks like it's an American car, a 'Hennessey Venom F5', could it be an American plate?"

"Impossible, only twenty four of those cars were ever made, there is only two registered in the whole of the UK, it must be a kit car."

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"Sure sounds like an eight litre engine to me...look, I told you this morning that I wasn't coming straight home from work, it's Harry's birthday, We're all at the Queen's head having a birthday drink."

The driver of the Hennessey was a very large African man, he'd stepped out of the car while I was talking to our control room so I had to pretend to be talking to my husband on the telephone. His face split into a dazzling white grin as he walked towards me listening to my conversation, he wasn't the only one listening in, my ear crackled, "Problem Vicky?"

I shouted out "No!" at the top of my voice and pretended to end the call as theatrically as I could.

"Hi baby...husband trouble?"

"Dickhead trouble...sorry, just a bad day."

"So, you here for a birthday party?"

"Yes, a guy from work...that's all!"

"Well, you look angry; let me get you something to drink."

I smiled at him, he certainly dressed and looked like the kind of man who could afford to drive a million pound car, I thought for a moment, the car was definitely hooky, could have been stolen, definitely not a kosher registration and definitely not the kind of car that you would expect to be parked in a back street pub in Northampton. I looked at our three chase cars, they deliberately looked old and down at heel even though they could reach over one hundred and sixty miles an hour in the hands of our trained chase drivers but the Hennessey could reach almost twice that speed if their publicity blurbs were to be believed. I nodded my head, "Great...thanks"

"Vicky, what's going on?"

I walked back into the pub and headed for the bar area but just after the doors to the toilets he grabbed my elbow and stopped me, not in there, come up to my place."

"Is this your pub?"

"I'm the owner and joint licence holder."

"So, you're Joseph Somali then, I noticed your unusual name above the front door."

"Well, I'm really Somali Joe but your British Authorities insist on an Anglicised name for all official forms."

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I pressed the on button on my shoulder bag as Joe pressed the code into the electronic lock, I had no idea if the camera could see his fingers pressing the keys but it should at least record the tune that was played as his fingers worked the lock.

Gavin crackled in my ear, "I'm heading out to the van...just in case...okay, I've got your back."

The door opened outwards which was unusual in a public building like a pub, unusual and dangerous. The bottom of the stairs started at the door...that explained why the door had to open outwards. I realised what the stairs had been there for, when the pub was first built it would have had a functions room above the bar, a room that could be used for dances, theatrical performances, parties...even educational sessions but now it had been closed off as a private area for Somali Joe to use.

The door was one hundred year old oak so was very substantial but once it was opened I saw a quarter of an inch steel plate had been fixed to the back of the door, it would have taken a bazooka shell to get through that door. Gavin walked past behind me as Somali Joe pushed me ahead of him up the stairs. A shiver ran through my body when I remembered how I was dressed, micro mini skirt, stockings and lacy suspender belt with matching thong, Joe would be able to see everything I'd got under my skirt if I was more than three steps ahead of him on the stairs.

All thoughts of Joe behind me disappeared when a door at the top of the stairs opened and another African popped his head out of the door, he was holding what looked like a pistol in his hand in the darkness at the top of the stairs, "Who the fuck are you...oh, sorry boss, I didn't see you behind her!"

I looked above the man's head at the top of the stairs, a little red blinking LED light gave away the camera looking down the stairs.

"Does he have a gun Joe?" I hadn't mentioned the gun because I was scared of it, it was just to let Gavin know that I'd seen a gun in the room above the bar.

"Don't worry about Amal, he's here for my protection, he won't hurt you unless I tell him to. Joe closed the door. I took a deep breath as I started to climb the stairs, Joe wasn't following me, he either wanted me to get high enough for him to see my arse clearly or...I looked over my shoulder and saw Joe lowering a heavy iron bar across the doorway, it was fixed by a pivot on the hinge side of the door and was captured by two cradles fixed on the back of the door and on the lock side of the door there was an opening in the brick wall that also held the iron bar. The upper level of the bar was more like fort Knox.

Joe started to climb the stairs after me and his grin almost lit up the dark stairway when he saw what I was wearing under my skirt.

Amal was holding the door open at the top of the stairs, Gavin was talking to me as I climbed the stairs but the closer to the top of the stairs the weaker and more distorted his voice became. When I got closer to the top I realised that what I'd thought was a pistol in Amal's hand was actually an Ingram MAC 10 machine pistol, now I was worried. Joe pushed me further into the room and Amal closed the door behind us, I spotted yet another steel plate fitted to the door at the top of the stairs.

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We were in what had been the old function room, I'd seen the windows from the car park, it had four large windows overlooking the car park, I'd even seen that the curtains were closed as well but now that I was inside the room, there were no windows and no curtains, what there was where the windows had been was a modern concrete block wall and by the fact that my ear piece was now totally silent, between the new block wall and the old nine inch solid brick wall was a film of metal, probably earthed to create a Faraday Cage.

Joe took my shoulder bag and emptied the contents out onto a large table top. I focused on the contents of my shoulder bag and then beyond. A third African man was counting out twenty pound notes, he was banding them in blocks of the thousand pounds and then vacuumed packing them in lots of ten, solid paper bricks containing one hundred thousand pounds and there were more than ten of the larger blocks. Joe flicked through my telephone, "A whole lot of men in your contacts."

I shrugged my shoulders, Amal walked past me almost sniffing at my perfume as he passed me, he was working on another table, he had what looked like the concrete building blocks, nine inches long by six inches tall and four and a half inches wide. He was using a bush knife to slice and dice the blocks, he was weighing small cubes of about one inch by one inch. He was using the trimmings from the cutting process to make the weight up to the standard and then dropping it into a plastic zip lock bag.

Each bag would sell on the street for twenty pounds, ten years earlier it would have sold for five times that amount, such was the widespread availability of cannabis on England's streets these days. Just a quick scan around the room showed that Somali Joe's operation was a million pounds a week business at least...Joe wasn't a street dealer, he was an area supplier and all of a sudden I was out of radio contact with the rest of my team and there was no way that they could get in to help me.

I was back facing Joe again now, he'd spread out the thong on the table and he'd placed the box of condoms on top of the knickers and the tissues next to them, he turned to face me and grinned again, "You're a whore!"

"I'm not..." I had to think fast on my feet and I didn't have the help of Gavin's inventive mind in my ear, "...It's Harry's birthday...the condoms are in case he gets me drunk enough to get lucky..."

"Well, unless this Harry is super human that only accounts for one...maybe two condoms...you have ten!"

"Well, I'm not proud of it but if Harry get's me drunk enough to get lucky, the other seven will want a try...if I'm that drunk they might all get lucky!"

Joe's grin turned into a belly laugh, "So, how many drinks would it take to get you drunk enough to allow eight of your colleagues to fuck you?"

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I shrugged my shoulders, when I was at university, probably eight or ten shorts...I haven't done anything like it since I got married."

"So...back in the day...it would have probably cost eight to ten pounds to get into your knickers..." he picked up a small plastic bag, "...and today, that might cost thirty to forty quid, just one of these little pills will have the same effect for just five pounds."

He took a single pill out of the bag and stepped toward me, "Let's see if we can help Harry to get his birthday jollies without you feeling shit all day tomorrow."

The pill was forced into my mouth and suddenly the guy counting the money was there with a bottle of beer, he pressed it to my lips and forced me to drink some of it.

"What was that?"

"That's a little pharmaceutical that I have made for my customers, it's called 'Extra XTC', it's a double strength tablet, ninety percent ecstasy and ten percent Flunitrazipam mix to get a party started off on the right tracks."

There was a faint buzzing in my head, not Gavin on my earpiece this time but the starting overture of the pill that had just been forced down my throat. I'd spent twenty years as a village bobby where life was quieter than the grave but I'd still been forced to attend drugs training along with the rest of the police service so I knew exactly what effect the MDMA in the ecstasy tablet would have on my body, removing any signs of inhibition but leaving my free will...my choice making ability, the small trace of Flunitrazipam though, that was designed to remove a person's free will.

My mind started to wander under the effects of the drugs I'd taken, I'd known the moment that Joe offered to buy me a drink that he wanted to fuck me, I may be forty years old but I looked much younger, I was blond with an elfin face, short and skinny in all the places that mattered but big in the place that men often wanted a woman to be big...I was actually only thirty-six inch 'D' cup on top but on my small body it made me look massively endowed. I'd planned to allow Joe to get close, get his cock knocking on my door as it were before calling in the cavalry and stopping things. Get my turn on but stop Joe getting to the finish line.

I giggled as the thoughts ran through my head, I was going to get fucked whether I wanted to or not.

Joe started kissing me, his hands on my hips, I wanted to look down, wanted to see his coal black hands against my alabaster skin, the top I was wearing was a Jersey knit in scarlet with a very low scoped neckline, and three quarter sleeves, the shoulder was only half an inch wide so there was a lot of collarbone on show as well as the edge of the lace surrounding my bra cups and the bottom hem was an inch above the waistband of my white pleated skirt. My bra, thong and suspender belt were also scarlet and my stockings were RHT with seams up the back in American tan.