The Offer

"How come they can get us in at such short notice?" Molly enquired.

"Madam owns clinic!" Natalka said finally.

* * * * *

They were taken back to the hotel in a stretched limousine, which had a television and a cocktail cabinet in the back. The seats were so soft and comfortable that Molly thought that she would like to spend the rest of her holiday in the car. Winston sat in the front by the driver and did not invade their privacy even though they were still a little too stunned to discuss just what had happened.

The limo pulled up at the curb by the piazza in front of the hotel and Winston held the door open fro them to get out. "What ever happens, stick with me folks."

"Nothing's going to happen!" Tom asked sounding cheerful.

Winston grinned. "Hopefully, you are right" He answered as he escorted them across the piazza towards the hotel's entrance. When they were half way across six young men stepped out of the shadows and moved menacingly towards them. "Shit!

I spoke too soon: get behind me!" He commanded then muttered. "Go, go, go!" Into his lapel mic.

The members of the gang began to saunter towards them brandishing a couple of guns together with various knives and a chain. "Jus' hand over de money yo' won an' it'll be all okay." One of them called out laughingly.

Suddenly tires squealed and two cars mounted the curb and screeched to a halt one either side of the muggers. Half a dozen men piled out of each and Winston drew pistol. It was over very quickly: one of the gang fired, the round hitting Winston in the chest. He fired back and the gunman was down... By now the other security men piled in and then dragged the robbers into the cars while two of the crew cleaned up any mess on the piazza.

"Sorry you had to see that, Sir, Madam, you are both unhurt, I hope?" Winston enquired and stuck a finger into the bullet hole in his tuxedo.

"We are thanks to you! Hey, you've been shot!" Molly proclaimed in horror.

The big black man grinned. "Bulletproof vest! But that punk has ruined my favourite tux."

He escorted them into the hotel lobby and informed the woman behind the desk that she had just witnessed a Casino Security Exercise and apologised for any upset that it had caused. The Desk clerk smiled back. She was more than happy to accept the 'official' explanation.

Then Winston enquired. "Does your suit have a separate day room?"

"Why, yes!" Tom answered, mystified.

"Then that is where I will be spending the night, I hope that there is a comfortable armchair?" Then he turned to the woman behind the desk. "Please station one of your security men in the corridor outside their room: my casino will pay."

"So the exercise is still on going, hmm?" She asked in a slightly mocking tone.

"Oh, yes!" The big man chuckled.

* * * * *

The clinic staff were expecting them and treated them like VIP's. They later found out that it normally catered for the medical needs of the super rich who lived in or visited the Bahamas: with this in mind it is not necessary to comment on the standards or the state of the art facilities. They were each met by their own personal nurse: two trim, pretty young ladies wearing traditional nurses uniforms, including little white caps. "Don't worry about anything," they were told, "your nurse will stay with you at all times, handle the paperwork and make sure that everything is ready for you."

Blood samples were taken first, as had been promised and then their nurses took them for a late breakfast. After that they were split up and conducted through the system separately. Most of the procedures were the normal part of a standard, if detailed, routine for a medical but they were also both given a detailed dental check-up and a full body cat scan. Then as well as the collection of the usual stool and urine samples, Tom was "asked" to provide a sperm sample: to his surprise, this was obtained by a nurse who lay him down an stimulated his prostate gland by putting a finger into his rectum.

Then after a late lunch, their bodies were photographed and measured in detail which was of cause done with them in different rooms. Pretty well everything was measured: Height, weight, limb length and circumference in several places: then the tests became rather personal. In Molly's case they measured her breasts and nipples (soft and hard) and then her areolae. This was followed by an examination of her vagina including its depth and dilation: this was followed by a similar examination of her anus. Finally, to Molly's horror, they even measured her clitoris.

Tom received similar attention which included an impersonal measurement of his penis (flaccid and erect), the size of his testicles and then, much to his embarrassment, a similar anal and rectal measurement to the one that Molly had received. "Why are you doing this?" He had asked.

"Because it is on the form, sir." His personal nurse had told him.

At the end of the session, they were wired up to a computer, fitted with face masks and asked to run for five minutes on a treadmill so that gas exchange, breathing and circulatory fitness could be measured. Needless to say both had difficulty in even jogging for that long!

Then after a shower, they were checked out and found another limousine waiting for them. Too their surprise, they were taken direct to the casino where they learned that they would be spending the night in one of the guest suits. When they asked about the hotel room, they were told not to worry and that the check-out procedure had been completed on their behalf.

They ate in the VIP dining room, (No charge!) and afterwards, Molly repeated her previous evenings session at the pontoon table where she won another B$6000 and was treated as a local celebrity by the crowd and with tolerant amusement by the staff. Afterwards one of them informed her that she was responsible for increasing the take on the pontoon and blackjack tables by 4000%: most of the casual players being incapable of telling the difference between the two games.

When towards the end of the evening they were met by Winston, Molly asked him what had become of the muggers.

He smiled, showing several gold teeth. "Don't worry, they were given the choice of taking a job with the organisation or being handed over to the police for trial.

Needless to say, they signed contracts... I believe that they'll soon be working in our guano mines in the Pacific. They'll be there for about ten years before we move them to something easier, we generally find that guano mining is very good at reforming criminals."

"Where's Anna?" Tom asked him.

The big man's face became expressionless: "Madam left us mid morning, I am afraid I don't know her whereabouts, but she has made travel arrangements for you both. You will be leaving by helicopter at 10am tomorrow, please be packed and ready in your suit by then. The VIP dining room will begin serving Breakfast at 7am. Oh and I advise you to wear something suitable for the tropics."

* * * * *

Molly and Tom boarded the helicopter on the casino's rooftop helipad, expecting a long trip but were surprised when they were only island hopped over to the international airport at Nassau. Here they were conducted to a waiting cargo plane: a converted Boeing 707, an old but very reliable aeroplane. To their surprise, there was a small, but luxurious passenger cabin tucked in behind the cockpit. Tom read the airline name as "Global Airfreight" but it meant nothing too him.

They were greeted by the crew, all female including the captain, who were all in smart uniforms, although the stewardess who they were told would exclusively look after them wore one of the shortest skirts that the couple had ever seen.

"Welcome aboard Global flight zero one to Saint Katharine's Island, the weather is good and we will be cruising at about 40,000 feet. The journey of approximately 1400 miles will take about three and a half hours. Please enjoy your flight. My name is Caitrìona and I will be taking care of all of your needs." Their personal stewardess said in a melodious voice. There was an accent, but neither of them could place it.

She continued. "I propose to serve lunch at noon. Unless you require an earlier meal: I would not advise delaying it because of the predicted flight time. If you wish to visit the flight deck, please feel free to do so at anytime, Yelizaveta, our captain, informs me that you would be most welcome. If you require any drinks, snacks or entertainment, please let me know. In the meantime, enjoy your flight, but as we will be taking off shortly please fasten your seat belts."

It was a pleasant flight most of it over water and they spent it drinking tea, looking out of the window and watching 'Pretty Woman'... Molly's choice.

After Caitrìona had scurried into the galley to prepare lunch, Tom turned ro Molly who was in the window seat and spoke quietly. "Did you notice that the stewardess spends most of the time looking at you when she is speaking to us?"

She chuckled. "She keeps giving me the eye, just like a man would, I think she fancies me."

Tom frowned. "Well she's got good taste!"

"That's not all," Molly added, "when I had a look in the cockpit, I leaned forward so that I could see through the windscreen and I swear that both of the pilots were busy staring at my cleavage! They can't all be lesbians, can they?"

"What have we let our selves in for?" Tom chuckled.

For the meal, Caitrìona set up an actual table in front of their seats so that she could serve the three courses. She apologised for the food, and for the fact that it was not possible to cook fresh ingredients on board. However, as the quality of the meal was up to good hotel-standard, they couldn't see what the fuss was about.

After the coffee, both Tom and Molly felt rather sleepy and dozed until landing on Saint Katherine's Island, or "Na Ostrovye Cyent Ketrini" as the Captain called it! The plane landed smoothly but taxied over to the freight terminal, where they were met by a minibus: a rather luxurious minibus at that.

As they descended the aircraft steps, they were saluted by a man in a smart tropical police uniform and rather sleepily, they were conducted over to their transport by Caitrìona who handed them over to a female driver and wished them a pleasant stay on the island.

The minibus proceeded slowly out of the airport and out onto a surprisingly good road. Tom had travelled around the Caribbean some when he was a student and knew that this was not typical. They looked out of the widows at tropical landscape: the chain of green mountains to one side and the plain that fell gently to the sea on the other. The farmland that they rolled past looked a lot more prosperous than anything that he remembered and the people looked happy and many of them, recognising the minibus grinned and waved to then as it rolled past. They all looked well fed and there was a good ethnic mix of black, white and everything in between.

They rolled smoothly through a village whose new-looking signs announced it to be "WESTCHESTER" and "Весчестера".

"Are all of the signs in Russian as well?" Molly asked the driver.

"Da!" She answered. "Na Ostrovye Cyent Ketrini has large Russki population. All live happily here, Madam sees to that."

Tom cut in. "Madam Volkova lives here?"

"Madam owns here!" The woman answered in her heavily Russian accented voice.

There was a large billboard set back from the road: On it, sandwiched between am advert for Kotex sanitary towels and a warning of the dangers of rabies, was a fifteen foot high portrait of Vladimir Putin labelled "ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE" on which someone had taken the trouble to scribble a 'Hitler moustache'. Yes, Anna Volkova's influence was obvious if one only took the trouble to look.

The road passed through the middle of the village and was almost empty, the couple saw perhaps three or four cars and a couple of vans and trucks, oh, and one farm tractor whose driver immediately pulled off the road to let them pass. The road moved further away from the mountain, but never ran along the coast: there were several side roads that headed towards the sea and these were of the same high standard as the highway.

Presently the mountains to the right fell away to a ridge that seemed to be only a couple of hundred feet above sea level and over the next few miles, the main road ascended. It .ran along the top, looking back, Molly could see that the mountains seemed to be a spine that ran along the middle of the island and which narrowed considerably ahead of them. It narrowed so much so that they could see the sea on either side. They drove on and just when it seemed that they were going to drive straight into the ocean they came to a fence, beyond which the island widened out again: the fence cut across the narrowest part of the neck of land.

There was an electrically controlled gate ahead of them with a large guard house in front of it. The driver slowed down, and as she drew to a halt, several men in Russian-style military uniforms emerged from the building and metal plates rose up out of the road in front of and behind them.

The soldiers were a mixture of black and white and the officer who approached the drivers door was an Afro-Caribbean man with a highly intelligent looking face. " Zdravstvitya, Natashya! Voy?"

The driver grinned. " Zdravstvitya, Anthony! I'm fine, how are you?" She replied switching to English.

A soldier peered into the minibus. "Two, Sir!" He called. "One man, one woman!"

The officer carried on chatting to Natasha for several minutes until a soldier emerged from the guardhouse, saluted the officer and said. "All as expected, Sir!"

The Officer stepped back and saluted the minibus just as the gates slid open and the metal plates descended to allow the driver to ease them forward and through the barrier.

"The soldiers didn't check inside." Tom said critically.

The Russian woman laughed. "I'm not called 'Natashya' and he isn't 'Anthony': didn't you notice that the road between the barriers was a steel grid? The bus was weighed, scanned and sniffed for explosives: every word exchanged was a code phrase. Madam is well protected from that weasel, Putin! Oh and from Mafia!"

Molly chuckled at Tom's discomfort and then continued to look around. The area that they were driving through was wilder than the other side of the gate: there being no more farms or fields. A single high hill rose over to the left and the road seemed to be heading for it. Presently they passed through a small wood and on emerging from it saw an extensive white building about a third of the way up the hill.

The couple gasped: it was three stories but they were stepped to match the hillside. It was all white stucco and glass. "Welcome to Madam's hacienda!" The driver said while they both gawped at the house. Then she added: "It called that because is 'hacienda' the road!" Which she seemed to think was funny.

The road did not head directly towards the house, but instead curved away to one side and widened into a very large area with several buildings clustered around its perimeter which 'Natashya' did not say anything about, instead she turned the minibus towards large doors set into the hillside which swung open as they approached. A set of traffic lights, just inside were on green so she drove into what turned out to be a short tunnel. After about thirty yards, the tunnel opened out into a cavern which, being well lighted, they could see served as an underground parking lot and an unloading bay.

The woman stopped the vehicle at the bottom of a short flight of steps. "This is it folks, enjoy your stay, and no doubt I'll be seeing you again."

Suddenly the door was opened from outside and the were met by two skimpily dressed doll-like girls of Japanese appearance who bowed and welcomed them.

"Please to accompany us, Madam? Sir?" They invited and escorted them up the steps and through a door which "clanged" shut behind them.

"Please to face the camera!" The shorter of the two girls instructed, although neither of them came up to Tom's shoulder,

They all did so and after a pause, another door slid open revealing a long, brightly lit and carpeted corridor. There had been a third door and Tom enquired as to where it led to. "The security area, Mr Talbot."

At the end of the corridor, which was another thirty yards long, they found four lifts, or 'elevators' as the girls called them. They motioned to the one second from left whose doors were open invitingly. There was a slight jolt and they were carried up into the hacienda. After the car stopped, one of the girls said. "Please to remove shoes this is a bare-foot house."

Tom and Molly looked at each other and then did as they were instructed. The corridor that the lift emptied into was wide, airy and well lighted, both from lamps built into the ceiling and glass roof windows. Too Tom's surprise, the floor was some sort of pale yellowish wood, highly polished, but not carpeted. The corridor was painted the same cool white that they would find everywhere in the house when they had a chance to explore.

The girls led them along the corridor, past numbered doors, which reminded them of a hotel. One of the girls noticed Tom's confusion. "Numbers are to make it easier for guests to find their way around!" She said helpfully. "Your suite is numbered with a two."

Tom was about to thank her, when he was surprised by the sight of a blonde woman emerging from door number "7". She was wearing an electric blue satin thong, and nothing else although her long hair was secured into a ponytail by a large matching bow. She was at least a "DD" and Tom realised he was staring when Molly playfully clipped his ear.

"Oh, sorry, miss!" He apologised, blushing as he did so.

"It is quite alright to look!" She said in an amused voice which embarrassed Tom even more and made Molly, who was a little prim and proper, shake her head.

"Don't worry, Madam, Sir, you will soon get used to it. Many women here dress like that, or wear even less." The shorter of the two girls said.

Suddenly they were out side a pale wooden door with a "2", underneath which was a plaque that stated "MOLLY & TOM TALBOT: residents. The plaque was lettered in red on a gold background. The two girls threw open the door and bowed the couple in.

They entered into what was called, the "Dayroom" and it was larger than the whole of their house in Framlingham, Suffolk. It was plainly furnished but with very good quality and comfortable furniture. The couple looked around, open mouthed. One whole wall, perhaps thirty feet long. Was a single picture window looking out onto the green hillside, and then out to what seemed to be an impossibly blue Caribbean.

"We are Wakana and Natsuki Takenaka, we are sisters and are your maids and guides while you live here: if that pleases you?" The Japanese girls said smiling coyly.

"Would you like to see the rest of your suite?" Wakana, the shorter one enquired, although it seemed to Tom that the question was directed to Molly.

When they answered that they would, Wakana led the way and Natsuki followed them. They were led through a door in the left hand wall which led into a short corridor. Wakana threw open a side door to reveal a room about twenty by eight.

"This is your storeroom it can be fitted out any way you require."

Then on to the door at the far end of the corridor, which she opened to reveal a bedroom that was about thirty by twenty, which was the same size as the day room: it was carpeted in pink and had a massive bed against the back wall that faced another huge picture window. There was other furniture including a pair of large white leather arm chairs, occasional tables, a television with at least a forty inch screen and a built in DVD player.