Partners In Crime - Chapter 1
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Chapter One – Escape Plan
Author’s Note: I have brought together three of my heroines: Jennifer Jones, Penelope Bishop and Michelle Dupree for one final collaboration. This three-part story has taken me considerable time to write and edit and it is plot based and character driven but of course there is plenty of sex. I hope you enjoy it.
Jennifer Jones’ Dacha, Portsmouth New Hampshire
Jennifer Jones was dressed in her Dior short-skirted navy-blue power-suit with a white silk blouse, expensive skin-toned sheer pantyhose and Louboutin heels and sat behind the modern steel and glass desk she had installed to replace the ancient wooden relic that her predecessor was so fond of. She leaned back in her modern office chair and adjusted her earbuds. She was listening to Grigori Belinsky rant, watching him on the large flatscreen television mounted on the opposite wall.
“This child is neither a woman nor a man, she’s American born, she’s a usurper and an imposter and she killed Dmitriy Yakovich and Alexi Reznik. She’s a killer, a thief and an charlatan and she has no place in our organisation,” Grigori slammed his fist down so hard on his desk that his video picture shook on the screen.
The meeting of the senior Pakhans was being conducted over an encrypted video link. It would be far too dangerous for the Pakhans, scattered around the globe, to all meet in one place. The High Council, for want of a better name, were the heads of state who made decisions and mediated and oversaw the loosely organised Russian and Ukrainian Mobs and they had called the meeting to review the progress of their underlings.
“Gentlemen please. We have had all this out before and the High Council made their decision. I am legitimately the Pakhan of the USA’s west coast Bratva. Yes I am a non-Slavic transgender woman. Yes I am young. Yes my business model is different in that I prefer to use gold rather than lead to persuade my adversaries but am I not one of your most productive and prolific earners?” Jennifer countered.
“And calling me a killer and a thief is surely a complement given the esteemed company I’m in,” Penelope smiled sweetly into the camera.
The other Pakhan’s all broke up laughing at Jennifer’s joke… except of course Grigori Belinsky.
Grigori Belinsky had been a close friend of Dmitriy Yakovich and Alexi Reznik and had mediated between the two Pakhans when they had fallen out. He was married to Dmitriy’s sister who was Dmitriy’s only surviving relative and he had sworn revenge.
Jennifer Jones bold play in eliminating Dmitriy and his hated rival Alexi Reznik, then seizing control of Dmitriy’s Bratva, was seen as an act of decisiveness, ruthlessness and bravado by the other Pakhans who headed up the Odessa and Russian mafia in the US. During the power vacuum left by Alexi Reznik’s demise, while the other Pakhans fought over the carcass of Reznik’s Bratva, Jennifer had ingratiated herself with the High Council, whose tentacles reached into every corner of the globe.
There was only one other female Pakhan. She was a Serb who headed a Bratva based in Italy which had close ties to the Italian mafia. Jennifer was not a Balkan and she was a transgender woman and she was still young but her abilities spoke for themselves. She had a loyal following and those in her Bratva who were not loyal to her were dealt with quickly and efficiently.
Jennifer knew many things but what she knew most was that money talks and as long as her businesses prospered and she kicked money up to the hierarchy in the High Council they would leave her alone. There was unrest in Europe and the armies and militias were hungry for arms and ammunition. Jennifer’s people trafficking, prostitution, protection, money laundering and extortion operations were lucrative and the stipend she kicked up to the Slavic old guard was used to purchase weaponry which was sold to the highest bidder.
But Grigori Belinsky was like a dog with bone that wouldn’t let go. He had tried to get the High Council to disenfranchise Jennifer but Jennifer’s rise to power, and the way she had got there, was considered a textbook manoeuvre: cold, calculating and decisive. Dmitriy was not well liked and many were amused that the arrogant and vicious Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich had been assassinated by his transgender Girl Friday and lover.
Of course this was all conjecture because there were only two witnesses to Dmitriy’s murder: one, a Balwyn Texas Detective named Penelope Bishop who took the credit for shooting Dmitriy after Dmitriy had shot Alexi Reznik to death. The other witness was Katerina Kuznetsova, a girl Jennifer used to lure Alexi Reznik into her trap. Both Penelope Bishop’s and Katerina Kuznetsova’s version of the events leading to the killing of Alexi Reznik and Dmitriy Yakovich were believed by the investigating authorities.
But there was no doubt by anyone connected to the Bratva that Jennifer Jones had orchestrated the whole thing and she became a legend for her ruthlessness and decisiveness.
“We have spoken Grigori, Ms Jones organisation remains under our banner. Business is business; now let’s move on,” the head of the High Council spoke gravely.
The conference was being conducted in a mixture of Russian and English with translators broadcasting the discourse into other languages as necessary. Jennifer’s Russian was improving with the help of her own Girl Friday, Katerina Kuznetsova who was also her lover and the daughter of one her trusted confidants, Katya Kuznetsova. But Jennifer couldn’t keep up with the fast paced banter between the members of the High Council.
Her phone pinged and Jennifer looked at the text message: fuck that misogynist transphobic pig you are the skorpion suka. The text message came from Teodora Petrović, the Serbian woman who was the Pakhan based in Naples. Jennifer had met her during a trip to Europe and they had many things in common including having to work twice as hard as the men to prove they were worthy of their positions in an organisation as masochistic as the Russian mob.
Jennifer’s business model was modern and she delegated power to her lieutenants to deal with routine business matters rather than centralising all power in herself like most that of the other Pakhans who ruled their Bratvas with an iron fist. But Jennifer was not averse to using brutality when it was called for. She was called the skorpion suka or ‘scorpion bitch’ behind her back. She liked the name and did nothing to deter its use. She and Katya had distinctive scorpion tattoos on their left ankles indicating that they had once been the property of their Pakhan, Dmitriy Yakovich.
Jennifer had not insisted on it but Katerina had also acquired a scorpion tattoo on her left ankle to signify her devotion to Jennifer. Her mother Katya did not approve of her daughter getting the tattoo but Jennifer loved her for it.
The rest of the conference was taken up with boring lectures from the High Council which could be boiled down to: make more money and kick up our share.
Jennifer was glad when the meeting was finally over and Katerina Kuznetsova entered the room from her adjoining office. Katerina was a stunning slim young woman with jet black hair cut into a severe bob which accentuated her deep blue expressive eyes. She had pert breasts and long legs clad in gossamer-sheer nylons and she was wearing a fashionable business suit. Her face was narrow, with accentuated cheekbones, a pointed chin and small nose. Her skin was pale and she wore heavy eye makeup and blood-red lipstick.
Jennifer’s heart skipped every time she saw her and she could see the adoration reflected back in Katerina’s eyes.
“Well that was pretty boring,” Katerina pouted, perching her pert buttocks on the edge of Jennifer’s desk.
She only did that because they were alone. Katerina was nothing but respectful and business-like in the presence of others.
Katya Kuznetsova had given birth to Katerina in Switzerland and had her raised in France and then she attended a British boarding school. Katerina was the progeny of Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich and Katya kept the existence of her daughter a closely kept secret not wanting Katerina to fall into the clutches of her father. When Dmitriy was killed, Katya brought her daughter home to the US where she had attended Rutgers University.
Katya had never wanted her daughter to have the same life as her but she consoled herself that Katerina had been taken directly under Jennifer’s wing and had not had to endure the terrible things that Katya had suffered living under the boot of Dmitriy Yakovich. She knew that Jennifer loved and cherished her daughter and that was enough for her. Katya had once been Jennifer’s superior before Jennifer rose to power and they had been on and off lovers so Katya knew that underneath that hard exterior, Jennifer had a soft soul.
“Boring but insightful. What did you learn?” Jennifer asked her assistant.
Katerina had been watching the conference in her own office but as an underling she was not a participant.
“Grigori Belinsky still hasn’t forgiven you for killing Dmitriy and taking power,” Katerina said.
Jennifer waved the notion away as if it was a piffle.
“What else,” she asked.
“Russia is sabre-rattling at Ukraine and the High Council sees potential profit selling arms and anything else they can to both sides,” Katerina said smugly.
“But I don’t see how that affects us so much here,” Katerina continued.
“Which is why you probably deserve a spanking,” Jennifer got out of her seat and approached Katerina and smiled at her.
“For not joining the two together. The Slavic Bratvas and the High Council will be focussed on events in Europe and they will take their eyes off what is happening elsewhere,” Jennifer said pointedly.
“This can be an opportunity for us but it can also be to our detriment. We can operate more freely in some areas where before we had to show caution. We were warned out of Las Vegas because the Israelis consider it theirs but there is room for us to operate there too. I want you to send Uri Bokarev there to talk to the Israelis and tell them that we are willing to offer them ten percent of any profits we make,” Jennifer said and Katerina snatched up a notepad and began writing.
“Ten percent seems a little too much,” Katerina said.
“Don’t be silly Katerina, they are getting nothing. Once we get our foot in the door I intend to take over all of Las Vegas. The Italian mafia can’t operate there anymore and the Israelis control loan sharking, extortion, money laundering, drug distribution and prostitution. There is plenty there for everyone but I want it all. Our approach will be subtle. No one will know what we are doing there because we will do it quietly and those who need to be paid off to allow us to do so will be recompensed. The Israelis will be disenfranchised before they even know it,” Jennifer grinned.
“You said there is also a down side,” Katerina dangled a high heel from her toes knowing that Jennifer round it arousing.
“It also means that the Bratvas outside of Europe may become vulnerable because the High Council will be too busy dealing with issues at home to police breaches of discipline elsewhere. Order my Lieutenants to step up security on all of our operations, bring in mercenaries if necessary,” Jennifer reached out and snatched Katerina’s dangling high heel.
“Now it’s time for that spanking,” Jennifer leaned in and kissed Katerina on the lips then she pulled her off the desk and handed Katerina her shoe.
She pressed the intercom to talk to her valet Peter Small, who also doubled as her personal bodyguard.
“I’m not to be disturbed until after dinner. Tell the chef that I will eat in my bedroom and to make dinner for two,” Jennifer spoke.
“Yes Ma’am,” Peter replied.
Peter Small liked the way that Dmitriy Yakovich had laid out the house that Jennifer had inherited on his passing. As well as having a pleasing aesthetic it was designed with security in mind. Peter sat outside Jennifer’s office like a sentinel, keeping the unwanted at bay and greeting those who were welcome.
The sturdy oak doors, lined with bullet and blast resistant materials, which led to Jennifer’s office and living quarters were directly behind him. Jennifer’s private rooms led off her office to one side and on the other side was the office of her Personal Assistant.
Jennifer pushed Katerina ahead of her towards her bedroom and Katerina giggled like a schoolgirl.
They took off their suits but left on their underwear and high heels. Jennifer loved the feel of nylon, satin, silk, rayon, lycra and anything that was soft, slippery and diaphanous.
Katerina crawled onto the bed and lay back with her head on the pillows watching Jennifer remove her blouse. She slipped a finger between her legs and began to circle her moist cleft through her almost transparent, pink nylon panties.
Jennifer tossed her blouse aside and watched Katerina’s bright-red fingernail make little circles as Katerina pleasured herself. Jennifer was untucked and her cock was tenting the front of her black satin full-cut panties. She stroked the tip of her phallus with the tips of her fingers and a globule of clear pre-ejaculate bubbled up through the satin.
Having feasted her eyes on her lover, Jennifer crawled onto the bed.
Jennifer started at Katerina's ankle and used her tongue to trace the dark seam on the back of her stocking along her leg up to the gauzy welt where she stopped briefly. She lapped at the creamy white flesh above Katerina’s stocking top until Katerina began to mewl and shake and then she moved across to the other leg and started all over again.
“Lick my pussy,” Katerina pleaded as Jennifer’s tongue alternated from one stocking top to the other.
Jennifer smiled. She could smell Katerina’s sweet musk and see the swollen lips of her vulva through Katerina’s gauzy panties.
She placed her mouth over Katerina’s pudenda and licked the outline of Katerina’s pink labial lips with the tip of her tongue. Katerina tried to pull her panties out of the way but Jennifer wouldn’t let her, she nipped at Katerina’s puffy labia through her panties and thrust her tongue into Katerina’s vaginal cleft, pushing the diaphanous material against Katerina’s clitoral hood.
Katerina began to writhe on the bed. She enmeshed her fingers in Jennifer’s hair and pushed Jennifer’s face into her cunt. She opened her legs wide and moaned like a slattern as Jennifer finally pushed aside the gusset of Katerina’s panties and pressed her mouth on Katerina’s labia and tongued Katerina’s sensitive bud until Katerina’s heels were drumming on the bed.
“You fucking bitch! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Katerina caterwauled as her orgasm erupted.
Jennifer’s mouth was filled with Katerina’s sweet vagina juices. Jennifer’s cock was hard and throbbing, pressed into the stain sheets as she used her oral skills to bring her lover to the peak of ecstasy and then slowly allow her to come down from her orgasmic high.
Katerina lay panting; trying to recover her breathing as Jennifer climbed on top of her began to kiss her. Katerina regained her composure and returned Jennifer’s kisses, locking her legs around Jenifer's small body.
Suddenly Katerina rolled over and pinned Jennifer to the bed. She kissed her viciously, thrusting her tongue into Jennifer’s mouth, nipping her lip, rubbing her body against Jennifer’s small frame, feeling Jennifer’s cock rubbing on her stocking-sheathed thigh.
Katerina stopped kissing Jennifer and began a long languorous journey down her body with her tongue, stopping briefly to suckle Jennifer’s tender nipples and then continuing down until she could engulf Jennifer’s thick hard rod. Katerina ran her tongue along the base of Jennifer’s penis, while she stroked her scrotum with her fingertips and then she lapped at Jennifer’s fraenulum until Jennifer was pleading with her for relief.
Katerina took all of Jennifer’s bloated phallus in her mouth and worked her lips up and down the shaft while her tongue lashed at Jennifer’s glans. This time it was Jennifer who entwined her fingers in Katerina’s hair and guided her face up and down on her penis.
Suddenly Katerina’s mouth was filled with hot, creamy spunk as Jennifer ejaculated. Katerina sucked and swallowed as Jennifer unleashed torrents of jism into Katerina’s mouth. Katerina lapped at Jennifer’s cock, keeping it hard and resplendent. When she thought that Jennifer was ready, she spat out Jennifer’s cock and dived onto the bed on her back with her legs opened invitingly.
“Fuck me honey,” Katerina begged and Jennifer mounted Katerina and thrust her still hard cock between Katerina’s legs.
The two women fucked each other slowly, Jennifer withdrawing her penis nearly all the way out of Katerina’s steaming maw and then slowly thrusting it back inside feeling Katerina’s cuntal sheath clutch at her engorged cock. They rubbed their nylon-sheathed thighs together to increase their pleasure and Katerina wrapped her legs around Jennifer and raked her heels along Jennifer’s flanks, encouraging Jennifer to fuck her harder like one would encourage a steed to gallop.
Jennifer began to fuck Katerina with long hard thrusts, driving her cock all the way inside Katerina, grinding her pubis against Katerina’s clitoris to maximise her pleasure.
“Now!” Katerina bit down on Jennifer’s earlobe and dug her heels into Jennifer’s flesh, expressing her need.
Jennifer jackhammered her cock in and out of Katerina’s clunge, feeling her beloved writhe beneath her as Katerina’s orgasm ripped through her. Jennifer’s cock erupted deep inside Katerina, filling her vagina with her musky seed.
They lay side by side on the bed panting, their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat, the room reeked of cunt and cum and perfume.
Jennifer rolled over on her side and faced Katerina.
“I’m going to miss you next weekend,” Jennifer whispered.
“No you won’t. You will spend all of Thanksgiving working with Peter, catching up on all the things that I won’t let you do because I am so demanding,” Katerina teased.
*****
Things were quiet at Jennifer’s dacha over the thanksgiving weekend. Jennifer wasn’t really one for celebrating the holidays and she worked through thanksgiving and the weekend thinking she might take Katerina with her to Las Vegas after the holidays to see how negotiations were progressing with the Israelis and maybe have a bit of fun.
The sound of nine millimetre Heckler & Koch MP5 automatic pistols fitted with suppressors was like pebbles being thrown on a tin roof. It was unmistakeable to someone as experienced with weapons as Jennifer. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out her weapon, she extracted the magazine, checked the breech, slammed the eight round magazine back into the pistol and actioned it.
Jennifer’s weapon of choice was a Walther PPS M2. The operating mechanism of the Walther was the same as the Glock that Jennifer had trained with at Quantico when she was with the FBI but the Walther had some notable advantages: It was a single-stack 9mm that was only one inch thick which made it easier to conceal on Jennifer’s petite body. A spare six round mag was easy to conceal in a deep pocket or a holster if needed and she could carry an eight round magazine in her purse and use it to provide additional length to the grip plus additional firepower for tactical situations.
The sound of supressed gunfire was getting closer and Jennifer switched the flat screen over to the external security cameras.
The cameras scanned the grounds and Jennifer could see men in black suits, her security detail, engaging with men in full tactical gear. The men in the tactical gear had the advantage in numbers and firepower. As she watched a black Humvee lurched into frame; it had been reinforced at the front and it slammed into the sandstone buttress running along the front of the house. The driver and a passenger leapt from the vehicle just before it exploded. The cameras at the front of the house went dead.
Jennifer knew that it wouldn’t be long before the men assaulting her property were inside the house.
The door to her office burst open and Peter Small looked at Jennifer with a determined grimace on his face.
“We always knew it might come to this Ma’am. Activate your escape plan please. I’ll hold the door for as long as possible,” Peter actioned his MP5; he had a bandolier of extra magazines around his shoulder.
“Come with me Peter,” Jennifer holstered her Walther, ready to run.
“You know that's not possible Ma’am. I’d just like to say it has been an honour and a privilege serving you,” Peter gave Jennifer a rare smile.
She raced across the room and hugged him and kissed his cheek.
“You know I have always loved you; thank you so much,” Peter said over his shoulder as he slammed the reinforced door shut and activated the locking system that would make it virtually impenetrable while Jennifer made her escape.
Jennifer didn’t bother taking anything from her office except for a special key fob from her top drawer. There was nothing in the office that she couldn’t replace. The faded photograph of her mother was inside her jacket next to her heart and she had the necessary key fob in her pocket.
She activated the trap door hidden in the teak panelling on the far wall. A polished steel chute was exposed. It had been constructed by Dmitriy Yakovich and Jennifer had it reengineered so that only someone with a small body could fit inside it, the thinking being that any assailants were likely to be big brutish thugs wearing combat gear.
Jennifer slipped off her heels and lifted herself into the chute and let go of the grab rail and quickly accelerated down the chute. Peter made Jennifer and Katerina practice using the chute every three months so they were familiar with its functionality. When they did these practice runs they were wearing jeans or leggings not a fashion label skirt suit.
Jennifer quickly accelerated and her skirt whipped up her thighs as she slid down the long tube. The chute levelled out near the bottom to aid deceleration but she still hit the steel door at the end of the tube with a considerable whump. She opened the circular door and dropped to the concrete floor and put on her shoes. Her ass was sore from the friction and she had bruised her toe but other than that she was uninjured.
A tunnel led to an apartment building one block away and came out into the basement parking garage. The door was clearly marked ‘Exit Only’ although scratches and scrapes on the door revealed where some idiot had futilely attempted to open it. A permanent parking space was leased in the name of one of Jennifer’s companies.
She ran over to a black BMW SUV with windows so heavily tinted that they appeared to be blacked out. The car was constructed with bulletproof panels and glass and fitted with a heavy duty roll cage. She used the key fob to unlock it. The engine was supercharged and it was serviced regularly and run up by Peter at least once a week. Jennifer pressed the start button and the engine fired up with a satisfactory roar.
Jennifer glanced over into the back seat and saw her go-bag and a suitcase. Beside them was a leather briefcase.
She wasted no more time and pressed the garage door opener.
Jennifer and Katerina had joked that they were Batman and Robin when they went through their quarterly escape plan rehearsals. The garage doors opened sideways into the sandstone bedrock on which the apartment block stood. Bougainvillea and Ivy and other vines concealed the exit from plain view and Jennifer floored the BMW and drove past the foliage and onto the access driveway then onto the street.
As she turned onto the street she saw four men dressed in black tactical gear standing in the road and they turned her way and commenced firing. She heard the patter of rounds ricocheting off the vehicles panels and the windscreen. The car was almost indestructible and was fitted with ‘runflat’ tires which allowed the vehicle to travel up to 60 miles after a tire has been deflated by gunfire or a stinger. The men emptied their magazines at her car and were attempting to reload while one of them reached for his radio. Jennifer drove straight at the man and was satisfied with the crunch she heard and the bumps she felt as she ran over him at near full speed. The other men ran after the car but quickly gave up and ran back towards Jennifer’s house.
Jennifer and Peter had a contingency plan in the event she had to vacate the dacha at short notice and Jennifer followed the route highlighted on BMW’s mapping program knowing it would lead her to safety. When she was three blocks clear she slowed to the speed limit and checked to see if she was being followed. She wasn’t as far as she could tell. She heard police sirens approaching and the sound of a helicopter overhead.
The men who had assaulted her property were undoubtedly activating their own escape plan but one thing was for sure; they would keep looking for her. She wasn’t sure if the attack was an act of retaliation by the Israelis, a power move by another Bratva, of if Grigori Belinsky was behind the assault but she intended to find out tout suite.
Tempting as it was to drive to the airport and board her private plane it was too risky. Jennifer stuck to the escape plan known only to her and Peter. The plan required Jennifer not to proceed to any of her other properties or businesses, nor to contact anyone else until she was sure who and what had been compromised. The assault on her dacha could have been a one-off attempt on her life or her Bratva could be under attack on multiple fronts.
Jennifer followed the route on the BMW’s mapping program and considered where she was most vulnerable. Peter Small would have gone down fighting or taken his own life before he was captured. Being taken prisoner was not an option; no one could endure torture for long. The torture would not involve the waterboarding, sensory deprivation and humiliation practiced by so called legitimate investigation agencies. It would involve the removing fingernails and toenails, then fingers and toes, the application of fire, blades and other torture devices on the most delicate parts of the body. No… being captured was not an option.
Jennifer was glad that Katerina was not with her and was with her mother in New York. Katerina was a good Girl Friday and had a very good working knowledge of the business but she had never had to deal with the brutal practicalities of it. She had never seen ‘wet work’, she had never seen the look of despair on the faces of the pretty young girls being transported in the back of a van to a future they could not comprehend, she had never seen someone with a pistol pointed at their head begging for their life, she had never seen men rewarded for infamous deeds with money and the bodies of young women.
Although Katerina had a scorpion tattoo just like her lover and her mother, she didn’t really understand its significance. She had never had to give herself willingly to men she hated while she plotted revenge and she had never had to sacrifice people she loved. Jennifer had kept Katerina sheltered from all of that. Katerina carried out Jennifer’s instructions to the letter using computers and telephones. She knew the financial consequences of Jennifer’s actions but not the human toll.
After driving for three hours the mapping program indicated that Jennifer should take a right turn along a gravel road that ran through an few acres of forest and emerged at a hunting lodge that sat on a raised hill in a clearing. The lodge was surrounded by a low wall constructed of local rock topped with low cut arborvitae.
The house was on cleared elevated ground to provide a field of fire if necessary and the low wall was a crash barrier. There were other protective measures in the surrounding grounds and inside the lodge which looked like some rich asshole’s folly to anyone who might happen upon it accidently.
Jennifer used a remote to open the sliding doors of a substantial steel-framed building which stood to one side of the lodge. She parked the BMW and inspected the damage to the panels caused by the heavy gunfire. She had parked beside an identical model BMW except it was painted red instead of black. The cars were legally registered to one of Jennifer’s shell companies. She opened the glove compartment and retrieved the keys to the lodge and left everything else in the car.
She opened the lodge and deactivated the burglar alarm and activated the security monitoring system. Jennifer would know if anyone approached the property by foot out to a range of one mile or if a vehicle turned onto the access road. A series of cameras, motion and heat detectors, some obvious, some hidden, began feeding data into the security system which was sophisticated enough to tell the difference between a human being and a rodent but larger mammals often tripped the system accidently.
Jennifer opened the gun safe and made a quick inventory of the contents and checked the functionality of the longarms and pistols and loaded and actioned them. She placed them strategically around the house.
Satisfied that the lodge was secure Jennifer lugged her go-bag, suitcase and briefcase into the lodge and locked the place down. She poured herself a drink and sat down behind a large wooden desk and turned on the computers. On the roof of the lodge satellite dishes began streaming data and Jennifer brought up the screens and studied them.
Jennifer had not just been attacked physically; her businesses were under cyber-attack. She had suffered serious financial losses and some of her companies had to cease trading to fight off attempts to infiltrate them. The raids on her personally and on her businesses were causing havoc. She had a stream of emails to deal with and she dealt with them in priority order. She missed having Katerina here to help but Jennifer was also grateful that Katerina had not been with her during the attack.
Receiving responses to their urgent emails soothed most of her lieutenants. They knew that their boss was still alive and in control. Jennifer had left her cell phone back in her office. It was part of the escape protocol. Anyone who could mount a successful attack on her dacha and her businesses certainly had the resources to track her personal devices.
Jennifer opened her go-bag and took out an encrypted satellite phone and began making calls, taking damage reports and soothing anxious lieutenants.
Her business losses were considerable but tolerable: two of her counting houses had been hit, some of her bordellos, clubs, bars and drug distribution centres had also come under attack and several of her higher-placed deputies had been killed or wounded.
Her initial instinct was that it was the Israelis paying her back for intruding into Las Vegas. During the physical attacks on her businesses there had been losses on both sides and a few prisoners had been taken. The prisoners her men had taken were mercenaries, professional field operatives, with no real knowledge as to who was behind the attacks. They were just hired guns paid by faceless employers.
By midnight Jennifer was confident that the attacks had petered out. Her Bratva was on full alert, her lieutenants were intelligent and ruthless and had taken charge of the situation and had doubled the security on all of her physical holdings and her tech people continued to fight off the cyber-attacks, installing new firewalls and security software but her systems were still fragile and had been compromised.
The attack had been costly; not quite crippling, and Jennifer's hold on her Bratva was fragile. She was vulnerable to further attacks and had lost millions of dollars, some key personnel and a significant number of people of no strategic value but of significant monetary value. One of the most costly was a coach with twenty pretty young women passengers protected by four of her men. They were being transported to one of Jennifer’s safe-houses having crossed the Mexican border illegally. They had been massacred and the coach and bodies burnt to cinders. Jennifer’s operatives arrived before the police and other first responders and were able to sanitise the crime scene.
Jennifer’s revenue streams would slow down considerably. Her specialist teams were working to minimise her exposure to law enforcement and the media, keeping a lid on things. Where possible, the incidents were cleaned up before they drew any attention and for those that could not be cleaned up, efforts had been made minimise the Bratva’s exposure and ensure that the incidents were not linked to each other.
Bribes and payoffs were doubled and tripled where necessary to ensure there was minimal publicity and police presence.
Having dealt with business it was time to deal with her private life. The loss of Peter Small was devastating. He was Jennifer’s closest confidant and she genuinely mourned him. With him gone there was no one else who knew about the fortified hunting lodge or the details of Jennifer’s escape plans. Even Katerina only knew about the escape tunnel and the escape vehicle. Once the hunting lodge had been built, Peter himself looked after the security of the place having hired a local company to maintain the grounds and keep the lodge clean and well stocked.
Jennifer opened the go-bag and took out a pre-paid cellular phone. Until the threat warning returned to normal, all business would be conducted using encrypted communications and personal business would be conducted on disposable devices.
Jennifer punched up the number for Katerina Kuznetsova’s cellular phone but it rang out. She wasn’t too disturbed because Katerina was on holiday and might not have her phone handy. She could be at the movies or out sailing. She dialled up the house phone for the property in Southold but the line was dead. That did not bode well. It might just be an outage but the line might have been cut deliberately.
Jennifer called Katya on the encrypted phone to tell her about the coordinated attacks. Katya ran her business from home in a well-appointed cottage in Southold on Long Island, hiding amongst the moneyed elite. She had three trusted female lieutenants who handled the heavy lifting involved in her specialty which was abduction and people trafficking. Katya lured young women with promises of easy high-paying work or guarantees of fame and fortune or she simply had them abducted off the streets. She sold the girls online to the highest bidder or filled specialty orders for high paying clients.
“Hello?” a gruff Slavic voice answered.
“Who is this?” Jennifer demanded.
“Is that you Jennifer? My men tell me that your homo bodyguard died screaming on the torture table and the ladies here are reluctant to tell me where you are or maybe they really don’t know. I’m going to have fun finding out the truth,” the brutish voice chuckled.
“Grigori?” Jennifer hissed into the phone.
“You should have taken my advice and got out of the Bratva business you stupid cunt. I have your three women. A real Pakhan would tell me to fuck them and kill them and care less but you have feelings for them, don’t you, you stupid bitch,” Grigori hissed.
“Grigori if you…” Jennifer wailed but was cut off by Grigori Belinsky.
“Shut up you stupid cunt and listen. I don’t know where you are but I know where your people are. I’m watching them. I’m monitoring all your online traffic. Your people are hunkered down like scared rats because I killed a few of them. If I see any of them mobilising I will assume that you have ordered them to do so and the consequences will be dire so don’t do anything stupid Jennifer,” the disembodied voice sounded evil.
“Just remember. I have the three women,” Grigori chuckled.
“How are you going to contact me?” Jennifer’s mind had stopped racing and she was now cold and calculating.
“I can simply call you back on this number,” Grigori replied flippantly.
“I bet your goons are already trying to trace it. Fat chance Grigori,” Jennifer replied.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I will text you a link to a secure encrypted chatroom that only you and I can access,” Grigori said and as he spoke a text appeared on Jennifer's phone.
She clicked the link and entered the password provided and sure enough she was in an encrypted chatroom with Grigori.
“That will work,” she said and downloaded the link and password onto the phone's SD card.
“I’ll send you some happy-snaps. You can contact me there when you are ready to discuss the terms of your surrender,” Grigori chuckled.
Jennifer cut the connection and removed the SD and sim cards, pocketing the SD card. She broke the sim card in half and crushed the phone under her feet then she threw the remains of the phone in the trash.
Katya Kuznetsova’s cottage, Southold, Long Island
Grigori Belinsky’s men had taken Katya’s small estate at the same time as the assault on Jennifer’s dacha had been launched. They silently eliminated the guards and infiltrated the house and found the three women sitting in the lounge room in front of an open fire. Neither Katya Kuznetsova, her daughter Katerina nor Katya’s lover Alice Leasingham was armed.
Grigori’s men secured the house and the grounds and kept the three women under house arrest until Grigori himself arrived.
“Ladies; I’m sorry to have to tell you that Jennifer Jones is dead and I have taken her Bratva. Of course Katya I expect you to keep conducting business as usual and Katerina, I may have a position for you too because you know so much about Jennifer’s businesses,” Grigori strutted around the room grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“As for you Ms Leasingham, you present a problem for me because you are not inducted into the Brotherhood and you are a law enforcement officer. Killing you would attract undue attention but I think you are a reasonable woman. If I let you continue your relationship with Katya you could be of considerable value to me; just as you were to Jennifer, providing her with intelligence from inside the law enforcement agencies,” Grigori lifted Alice’s chin with the muzzle of his pistol.
“For now, no harm will come to you. I will take advantage of your hospitality while I conduct my affairs. You may use the ground floor but you are not to go upstairs. My men have searched the house thoroughly so don’t bother looking for your weapons,” Grigori waved his pistol at Katya and grinned.
The three women were dressed to attend a Broadway show that evening: evening gowns, heels and hosiery, heavy makeup and perfume. Grigori Belinsky’s men had been ruthless and had taken out Katya’s guards silently. The first the women knew they were under attack was when Grigori Belinsky’s thugs had burst into the house and held them at gunpoint.
“I will not work for you! I’d rather die!” Katerina hissed at Grigori.
Katya was horrified at her daughter’s statement. She herself had endured all manner of degradation at the hands of ruthless men but she had managed to survive. Her daughter was well aware of the fact as was Alice because Katya made no secret of it. When Katerina had gone to work for Jennifer, despite Katya’s disapproval, she had told her daughter that the day might come when she had to do whatever she had to in order to survive.
Katya gave her daughter a steely look and shook her head.
Grigori strode over to Katerina and lifted her chin and glared at her.
“That can be arranged but you would not die easily,” Grigori squeezed her face with his gloved hand.
“What have I got to live for? You have killed the woman I love and I will not be a psychopathic monster’s whore,” Katerina said through gritted teeth.
“Really?” Grigori chuckled.
“Let’s see,” Grigori grabbed Katerina by her wrists and forced them behind her back and began to push her towards the stairs.
Katya knew what fate awaited her daughter.
“Take me Grigori. I will not fight and I have more experience than that young girl. I will give you pleasures you have never dreamed of,” Katya implored.
Alice Leasingham began to sob. She didn’t want her lover’s daughter to be raped but she didn’t want her lover to be raped either. Both outcomes were unbearable.
“I don’t think so Katya. Your pussy has seen too many cocks and is probably as wide as a cavern. Maybe I’ll fuck you later,” Grigori pushed Katerina up the stairs.
Katya and Alice hugged each other and wept.
Grigori opened the door to the guest bedroom and pushed Katerina inside and slammed the door closed. He took off his gloves and put them in his pocket.
Katerina stood in the middle of the room, her head held high, her blue eyes blazing, her chest heaving; a picture of defiance.
“Jennifer got away. She just called Katya’s cellphone,” Grigori sighed.
Katerina took two steps towards him and slapped him hard across the face.
“You had one job Grigori! One fucking job!” Katerina was livid, her chest was heaving; her breathing heavy.
“For fuck sake! She’s a thirty-something pixie woman who weighs one hundred-pounds wringing wet. I even told you about the escape tunnel,” she tried to slap Grigori again but he caught her wrist.
“Our deal doesn’t extend to you slapping me,” Grigori pushed Katerina’s hand away and let go of her wrist.
“I gave you the plans for her dacha. I gave you access to her networks and told you where her businesses were located. All you had to do was kill her and her empire was ours for the taking,” Katerina was walking in circles furiously.
“Does she know about me?” Katerina stopped circling and approached Grigori.
“It would appear not. She knows that I have you and your mother and Alice Leasingham here in your mother’s house but she is in no position to do anything about it. She’s bunkered down somewhere trying to save what she can of her Bratva but she knows I’m watching her every move. We just don’t know where she is,” Grigori put two cigarettes in his mouth and lit them.
He gave one to Katerina who took it and smoked it fiercely.
“The one piece of information she would never divulge was her escape plan. We practiced using the tunnel but she would never tell me where we were going to go after we came out of the tunnel. Your men should have got her when she came out of the garage,” Katerina’s eyes were blazing.
“I had to use mercenaries. They hosed down her car but she got away,” Grigori shook his head.
“What now?” Katerina searched Grigori’s eyes.
“We wait. I will have my men beat the bushes looking for her. I have also engaged a specialist who is very adept at tracking down people who do not want to be found. You can help too. She will contact me again soon in any event. I have the only two people she loves: you and your mother,” Grigori crushed out his cigarette.
“What happened to Peter?” Katerina asked, putting out her own cigarette.
“Peter blew his brains out with his last bullet. He took out five of my men beforehand,” Grigori took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair.
“Fucking fag! Jennifer trusted Peter with secrets that she never told me. I always hated him for that,” Katerina watched as Grigori kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his pants.
She put her hands in the neckline of her evening gown and tore the bodice open then she ripped open the skirts.
“You’d better get to raping me to make this look right,” Katerina’s demeanour suddenly became seductive.
Grigori stepped into her and pulled her tight and kissed her. She could feel his monster cock pressing into her. She reached out and squeezed it through his underpants.
“You better hurt me a little to make it look authentic,” Katerina grinned and squeezed his cock again.
“You like it like that anyway. I always hurt you,” Grigori grinned back at her.
He grabbed Katerina by the shoulders and pushed her onto the bed.
Downstairs Katya and Alice heard the bedsprings creaking and the headboard bouncing against the wall. They hugged each other and sobbed silently whilst the henchmen guarding them grinned at each other and leered at the women, hoping that it would be their turn soon.
There was no need for Grigori and Katerina to feign rape. They had met only three times previously in person and each time Grigori had ravished Katerina and she had welcomed it.
Sex with Jennifer was lovely and they were kind and considerate with each other. Grigori’s lovemaking was the complete opposite. He used Katerina’s body to slake his desires with no consideration or regard for her physical wellbeing or her satisfaction and she loved him for it. She liked being used violently.
Grigori kissed her savagely and pawed at her, ripping away her panties and bra, tearing open her dress even further to gain access to her pristine white flesh. He tore the crotch out of her pantyhose, exposing her already wet and swollen labia. He twisted her nipples as he probed at her pubis with his large appendage. Jennifer guided it to her sopping maw and he slammed it inside her, making her grunt with the force of it, hissing with the pain.
It was like being impaled by a reptilian hemipenis; his cock felt scaly and jagged as it thrust brutally in and out of Katerina’s sopping, swollen cunt. She wrapped her legs around his body and clung to him, orgasming as soon as he entered her.
Grigori held her down on the bed and choked her; his hand squeezing Katerina’s throat as he pounded his cock in and out of her. He watched her pretty face become bloated and turn crimson as she struggled to breathe. The hypoxic state caused Katerina to experience a state of hallucinogenic bliss as her orgasm crashed and thundered through her body. Her clitoris was on fire and Grigori’s saurian phallus hammered her G-spot.
She beat his shoulders with her hands and gouged his flesh with her nails, her high heels raked his flanks as the two lovers violated each other. Katerina’s orgasm rose to a crescendo just as she was about to pass out and she felt Grigori’s penis tremble inside her and flood her with his scalding seed.
Grigori let go of Katerina’s neck and fell on her, kissing her passionately as his cock erupted deep inside her. He howled like a dog and she cried out in both pleasure and pain.
He lay on top of her after he climaxed; not moving. His cock buried deep inside her, knotted like a dog to his bitch. She showered his face with tender kisses and stroked his back softly, feeling the furrows she had left in his flesh with her fingernails.
Not for the first time she wondered what would happen if they ever became full-time lovers. The toll that they took on each other when they made love would likely kill her eventually. Katerina had heard Grigori’s henchmen talk about his fierce lust. He had young girls brought to his bedroom and they left hours later limping like rag dolls, their bodies and minds shattered. She knew that some unfortunates never left his bed alive because he had killed them during sexual asphyxia.
Grigori kissed her tenderly as he always did once his lust was sated. He whispered endearments and told Katerina how much he cared for her. His body was hard and muscled and angular. It was not pleasant lying under him. There wasn’t the soft comfort or tenderness that Katerina felt lying under Jennifer but she liked the severity and hurt that Grigori inflicted on her. She felt him becoming erect again and she knew what he wanted.
Katerina extricated herself from beneath him and got to her hands and knees and presented herself. Grigori knelt behind her and thrust his scabrous appendage into her dripping clunge. He held her by her hips and raped her. There was no other way to put it. He held Katerina down on the bed and battered her bruised, sensitive vagina with his rampant phallus until he came a second time deep inside her womb.
They both howled like beasts as they came together; their cries so loud that Katya and Alice heard them downstairs and they held each other closer and sobbed harder, imagining that Katerina was being ravished and sullied against her will.
Grigori was done with Katerina and he climbed off the bed and wiped at his privates with a damp cloth while she lay on the bed and nursed her wounds. He had bitten, scratched and abused her during their lovemaking and she had adored every second of it and her pale flesh displayed the evidence of their brutal passion. Her nipples were sore and her vagina was aching and tender, the scratches and bruises on her body stood out starkly on her alabaster skin.
Grigori was tattooed from neck to toe and the pounding that Katerina had put on his body was not so evident but she saw him wince when he dabbed at a bite mark on his neck and she saw the gouges she had put into his back when he turned away from her to put on his shirt.
She gingerly stepped into her panties and carefully made her way to a sideboard where she lit two cigarettes and gave one to Grigori.
“So we wait?” Katerina took up the conversation where they had left off before they fucked.
“She will contact me again and I will use you to snare her,” Grigori sat on the bed and pulled on his boots.
“When you catch her I want to see her die,” Katerina said coldly.
Grigori stopped lacing his boots and looked up at the pretty but despoiled young woman and studied her critically. Under that peaches and cream exterior beat the heart of a jackal. He looked down at the scorpion tattoo on her left ankle and not for the first time realised how appropriate it was.
He kissed her one last time and marched her downstairs and Katerina put a look of shameful defiance on her face and ran to her mother who embraced her and told her that she loved her and told her that there was no shame in being raped by her captor and Katerina cried along with her mother and Alice, pretending to take solace in their embraces.
“Stop that caterwauling you bitches! Look at me!” Grigori growled.
The three women looked up at Grigori and he snapped a picture of them clinging pathetically to each other, his henchmen in the background looming over them. He uploaded the picture to the chatroom and smiled evilly.
The Longhorn Saloon, Balwyn Texas
Jennifer drove fast using back roads where possible. It was a thirty hour drive, broken halfway by four uncomfortable hours sleep on the back seat of the red BMW. She had thrown her go-bag, a hastily packed suitcase and some weaponry into the red SUV. Grigori’s men would be on the lookout for the black car she driven to the lodge and the bullet marks would draw unwanted attention from law enforcement.
Jennifer had spent a little over twenty four hours at the lodge contemplating her next move. Someone with extensive knowledge had betrayed her and it had to be someone inside her organisation. Grigori was holding Katerina and her mother hostage along with Alice Leasingham but Jennifer was confident that Grigori would not kill them because they were perfect bargaining chips.
She couldn’t use her own people to help her because Grigori was watching everything her lieutenants did. He had eyes everywhere both physically and online. Someone had given him unfettered access to her operation.
She couldn’t go to the High Council because they were too busy dealing with the pending confrontation in Ukraine and anyway, the old men seldom involved themselves in conflicts between competing Bratvas. They had endorsed Jennifer when she had overthrown Dmitriy Yakovich so why would they come to her rescue now that she was being threatened by Grigori Belinsky? As long as the money flowed back to the High Council they didn’t care about squabbles between Bratvas.
So Jennifer would need help from outside of the organisation and she knew where to find it. The question was would the person she was seeking help her.
Penelope Bishop sat at the long bar of the Longhorn Saloon studying the beads of condensation as they formed runnels and ran down the bottle of Lone Star beer. Beside it, a shot of Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey sat untouched. She was couched forward with her head on her hands contemplating her life.
“Drinking that won’t solve anything,” Jennifer propped her petite fanny on the barstool next to Penelope.
“Jesus H Christ on a crutch, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse you turn up like a bad penny,” Penelope didn’t take her eyes off the beer bottle.
Jennifer leaned in and took the beer and the shot and moved them away from Penelope.
“Two diet cokes,” she called out to the bartender.
“Diet coke? You’re not even letting me have the sugar?” Penelope whined.
Jennifer made a point of leaning over and studying Penelope’s ample buttocks spread on the barstool.
“You don’t need the sugar, sugar,” Jennifer sniggered.
“Fuck you, you skinny bitch,” Penelope lifted her head off her hands and took a sip of her coke.
“I’m not saying you're fat. I’m just saying you would be a comfortable ride,” Jennifer grinned and stroked Penelope’s forearm in a friendly manner.
“Well you’d know, sugar,” Penelope tipped her glass at Jennifer and took another sip.
Jennifer leaned in and kissed Penelope on the cheek and Penelope smiled and returned the kiss.
“Last time I saw you, you were down here taking care of the Decker boys. That was some mess you left me to clean up,” Penelope turned to face Jennifer.
Lieutenant Penelope Bishop was wearing a charcoal skirt-suit with a crisp white blouse and heels. Despite her signature heavy makeup she looked strained. Her weight had fluctuated over the years and she had battled with the booze on and off but she had been sober for some time now. She was far from skinny but she carried her weight well and was mostly lean except for her bosom and buttocks. She wore her blonde hair down and despite having ticked over forty years of age she still turned heads with her long legs, blonde hair and big green eyes.
Jennifer Jones was wearing black leggings and a black sports top with a lightweight black blazer over; comfortable yet fashionable clothing for the road. When she was driving she’d kicked off her spiked Louboutin heels but she’d put them back on before entering the bar. She had striking glacial-green eyes. Her left iris featured a blueish heterochromia which fascinated some men and also some women. She sported a coiffed cherry-red pixie-cut with swept bangs and copper highlights and stood a tip over five feet tall and weighed a little over one hundred pounds with a school-girl body shape with narrow shoulders and hips.
They were an unlikely pair.
“Well last time I saw you, you were about to be promoted Chief of Detectives in the grand old City of Balwyn Texas,” Jennifer replied.
Penelope just nodded. She knew that Jennifer kept tabs on everybody of consequence that she had ever met and would damn well know that Penelope had been Chief for over a year now.
“Why am I finding you staring at a bottle of booze in a cop bar in the middle of the day?” Jennifer asked.
“Why am I being questioned by a criminal mastermind who should be locked up in a Federal Penitentiary?” Penelope replied.
“You forgot to mention my distinguished career in the FBI,” Jennifer quipped sarcastically.
“You barely made it out of Quantico,” Penelope shrugged.
“Betrayed by the FBI and handed over to vicious a thug,” Jennifer countered.
“Who took you as his lover before you blew his brains out right in front of me and then took over his criminal organisation,” Penelope rejoined.
“You took the credit,” Jennifer said sarcastically, sipping her coke.
“Yeah, I did that and look at me now; Chief of Detectives in a Podunk city. I lost one man to the job, drove another away and the girl that I love spends most of her time away from home. Even when she’s not travelling she’s so busy that I hardly see her,” Penelope sighed.
“We finished with the pity party? I have some real work for you to do if you're up for it,” Jennifer patted Penelope on the back.
“Why would I want to work with you?” Penelope’s interest was piqued.
As Chief of Detectives, Penelope had virtually stopped working cases and spent most of her time battling the administration, wrangling a budget and contending with the Prosecutor’s office. Her beloved Special Task Force had been handed over to Silvia Bickle who was her best friend but Penelope envied Silvia being able to work in the field and solve crimes rather than being chained to a desk.
“Because a very bad man is holding Alice Leasingham hostage,” Jennifer stated bluntly.
“Alice is on furlough. Went to New York to see that Kuznetsova broad who she is so besotted with,” Penelope replied, disbelieving Jennifer as a matter of course.
“She’s with my Girl Friday, Katerina, and her mother Katya at Katya’s house. Alice and Katya have been lovers for some time. She’s being held captive by an evil fuck named Grigori Belinsky,” Jennifer countered.
“I find it amusing that you would call one of your Russian playmates an evil fuck, being one yourself. The last time you asked for my help you played me,” Penelope grunted but she was interested.
Jennifer took one of the disposable mobile phones from her handbag, inserted the SD card and connected to the Longhorn’s wifi and brought up the encrypted chatroom and held the phone up to Penelope so she could see the picture that Grigori had recently posted.
Katya Kuznetsova, Katerina Kuznetsova and Alice Leasingham were huddled together on a sofa, two heavily armed tattooed men stood over them. The women were dressed in evening gowns but they looked cowed and frightened. Katerina’s dress was torn, her makeup smeared and dishevelled and she had contusions and bruises on her face and body. Her eyes were dull and listless and she stared vacantly into nowhere. Penelope had seen enough rape victims to know what had happened to her. She knew immediately that the picture was not staged.
“What else?” Penelope asked; her voice hardened.
She knew all three women in the picture but the only one she cared about was Alice Leasingham who had been her friend and colleague ever since Alice had joined the Balwyn PD as a crime scene investigator.
“They came to my house, killed my security detail including my valet and trusted confidant, they hit my commercial operations and killed a lot of my men and sabotaged my businesses,” Jennifer explained.
“Grigori Belinsky has hobbled me. I am unable to use my usual resources because they are no longer secure and Grigori will know as soon as I mobilise any of my lieutenants,” Jennifer continued as she broke open the phone, took out the battery and broke the sim card in half before pocketing the SD card.
“You need my help,” Penelope said dryly.
It was not a question.
“Yes and your resources but I can’t come to you in any official capacity,” Jennifer sighed.
Penelope guffawed so loudly that the patrons in the bar all turned her way.
“You want to get that nice rounded ass out of a chair and get back into the field, this is your chance. I know you. You're intelligent, resourceful, resilient and ruthless. They have your girl and they have mine,” Jennifer took Penelope’s hand in hers.
“I’m also nearly fifteen years older than you,” Penelope sighed.
“How many?” Jennifer raised her brows and chuckled.
“You're far from over the hill. You were a worthy adversary and we have been lovers. We have a bond,” Jennifer squeezed Penelope’s hand.
“Do you have a plan?” Penelope asked.
“Sort of,” Jennifer smiled; she knew that she had Penelope hooked.
“And I forgot to mention that you are the smartest law enforcement officer I have ever met,” Jennifer continued to flatter Penelope.
“You're no slouch yourself and I’m sure that you have noticed the broad sitting at the table yonder pretending to read the newspaper but watching us intently,” Jennifer deliberately didn’t look over at the woman and neither did Penelope.
“Fifties, still a looker but mutton dressed as lamb. Red hair, too much makeup, nice suit, showing too much leg,” Jennifer said tracing a bead of condensation down her glass with a fingernail.
“Yeah I clocked her. Possibly one of Grigori’s but I’m fucked if I know how they found me,” she sighed.
“I was going to say she looks like you will look in twenty years or so,” Penelope chuckled and Jennifer dug her in the ribs.
“I’ll be the bait; you be the hunter,” Jennifer began to gather her things.
“Where are we gonna take her?” Penelope asked; excited at finally getting back in the action.
“I bought the Harrison farmhouse and the bank was happy to dispose of it. I put it in Alina Kunis’ name and I keep up the maintenance on the place,” Jennifer said ready to leave.
“You really are a cunt,” Penelope grinned.
“Yeah and so are you but neither of us has one. You good?” Jennifer hopped off the barstool and made a show of saying farewell to Penelope.
“I’m goin to use the facilities before I hit the road,” Jennifer said loud enough for those nearby to hear.
She went into a cubicle in the ladies and secreted a pistol in a specially tailored pocket in the back of her leggings, hidden by the back of her jacket, and came out of the cubicle. Jennifer washed her hands saying nothing to the woman washing her hands at the sink two down.
The woman was tall, standing around five-eight and of indeterminate age but well over forty. She was wide-hipped with a slim waist and narrow shoulders and was wearing an expensive skirt-suit and Louboutins. She had long dancer’s legs sheathed in sheer flesh-toned nylons which her short skirt displayed for maximum benefit. Her emerald green eyes were enhanced by heavy black eyeliner and mascara and earthy eyeshadow: her skin was alabaster white, her lips full, red and pouty, her pretty face framed by a perfectly coiffed burgundy bob.
The woman had aged gracefully with few wrinkles and she must have been gorgeous when she was younger. Now she was elegantly attractive; sort of like Joanna Lumley except with red hair instead of blonde.
Penelope was right. Except for being much taller, the woman looked like Jennifer might look as she aged.
Jennifer left The Longhorn and paused at the driver’s side door of her BMW pretending to look for the key fob in her purse. The attractive older woman in the business suit sneaked up on her like a cat and pressed a silenced pistol into Jennifer’s side.
“Jennifer Jones I presume. Please do not make a kerfuffle. I’d hate to have to shoot you down in the street like a dog and I really just want to chat,” the woman said; her voice husky and sensual, like Kathleen Turner’s.
Penelope Bishop snuck up on the older woman with just as much guile and pressed her service weapon into the woman’s back.
“And we’d like to talk to you before we shoot you,” she took the silenced pistol from the woman’s hand and handed it Jennifer.
Then she passed Jennifer her handcuffs and turned the woman around to face her.
“I don’t know you,” Penelope said studying the woman’s face while Jennifer cuffed her hands behind her back.
“I’d be surprised if you did,” the woman replied showing no sign of fear.
“I’m going to put you in the passenger seat and I’m going to cable-tie your ankles. You make one wrong move and I’ll shoot you dead,” Jennifer hissed, moving quickly.
“Please try not to snag my nylons; they're expensive,” the woman said dryly sitting as comfortably as a woman could with her hands cuffed behind her while Jennifer put cable ties on her ankles and Penelope kept a gun her.
“You’re a smartass, aren’t you?” Jennifer said to the woman, climbing behind the wheel.
“Follow me. You know the way,” Jennifer said to Penelope out of the driver’s side window.
“I know the Harrison place better than I ever wanted to,” Penelope said dryly and turned to find her own vehicle.
Jennifer Jones and her henchman had killed Pete and Harlan Decker and a pole dancer come-hooker named Olena Svetlana in a hail of machinegun fire at the ranch as revenge for taking out one of Jennifer’s counting houses. Out back of the ranch, Penelope’s crime scene crew had found a gave containing the remains of three bikers named Duane McAllister, Bob Livingstone and Benny Hopkiss whom it was believed had tried to relieve the Decker boys of their ill-gotten gains.
It was the last case Penelope had worked before she was made Chief of Detectives and it riled Penelope because she knew that Jennifer was responsible but couldn’t prove it. One of Jennifer’s Lieutenant’s, a man named Pavel Ivanoff, an ex Spetsnaz Special Forces soldier, was found dead at the scene and in an effort to put a bow on the case, the Chief Prosecutor for the Texas Department of Public Safety made the determination that Pavel Ivanoff was responsible for the deaths of the Deckers and Svetlana and that he had been killed in the firefight.
It still smarted Penelope but she had been promoted and the case was put to bed so no one wanted to listen to her theory that Jennifer Jones had orchestrated the killings.
She followed Jennifer, heading north to a property which everyone in Balwyn still called the Harrison place. Jennifer pulled onto the dirt road that led up to the farmhouse. The road crossed a cattle grid with weathered wooden fence posts either side with a battered mailbox that read Harrison. She drove past the ditch where the bullet-riddled bodies of Harlan Decker and Olena Svetlana were found in an overturned Ford Raptor and continued on to the farmhouse.
The farmhouse was anomalous to the neglected fenceposts and rusty barbed wire surrounding the property and the battered mailbox at the end of the rutted dusty track leading up to it. The two-story, three-bedroom clapboard house had been renovated and painted and had a new shingle roof added. Penelope was surprised but then again she wasn’t. Jennifer had obviously had the place refurbished after she had purchased it and kept it as one of her safe houses which she had scattered across the country.
Jennifer’s Bratva owned Supergirls Nightclub in Balwyn which had also doubled as Jennifer’s counting house for the south central region of the US.
Supergirls was a strip club which offered a ‘full-service’ experience to selected clientele and was located in Balwyn’s Bridge Street free zone: a street lined with titty bars, adult stores and greasy spoons where locals and visitors could taste something spicy whether it be something narcotic or sexually adventurous. The police deliberately kept a low profile on Bridge Street but diligently patrolled the adjacent streets and were intolerant of any miscreants who attempted to bring their unsavoury behaviours outside of the delineated area of the ‘free zone’. Bridge Street was called an island of crud in a sea of resplendence by Balwyn’s more genteel citizens.
The girls who worked at Supergirls were mostly illegal immigrants coerced or forced into prostitution rather than the domestic jobs they thought they were going to undertake on arrival in the land of milk and honey. Most were pragmatic when they realised the earning potential that went with their employment. They were indentured for two years and allowed to keep twenty-five percent of their earnings, which was considered generous.
The Deckers had shot dead the manager when they absconded with the cash being counted upstairs. This brought the establishment to the attention of law enforcement agencies so Penelope figured that Jennifer needed a new counting house. The Harrison place would be the perfect location and a convenient place to hide contraband and smuggled Slavic women brought illegally into the US through Mexico.
Jennifer's BMW and Penelope’s Mustang pulled up in the gravelled forecourt of the farmhouse and Penelope came over to Jennifer’s car. She pulled her weapon and trained it on the woman in the passenger seat whilst Jennifer alighted and cut the cable ties around the woman’s ankles.
The woman looked down at her feet.
“At least you didn’t snag my Wolford’s,” the woman said, turning her shapely calves to check.
Penelope pushed the woman ahead of her using the handcuffs as a lever to guide her. Jennifer led the way and taking a key out from a hiding place on the porch she unlocked the door and deactivated the security system.
The three women sat around the kitchen table. All of the furniture appeared brand new and hardly used and the place smelled of cleaning products and a timed release fragrance that was something flowery and not too unpleasant.
Jennifer rested the woman’s silenced pistol on the table and pointed it at her. Penelope pulled out a pack of cigarettes that she shouldn't have been smoking and offered one to Jennifer who took it and lit up the menthol slim, drawing the smoke in deep.
“Did Grigori send you?” Jennifer tapped the butt of the gun on table top.
“Can I have one of those,” the woman nodded at the cigarettes.
“Did Grigori send you? Answer me!” Jennifer leaned in and slapped the woman across the cheek.
The report was loud in the silent cabin and the force of the blow turned the woman’s head but she showed no sign of pain, hardly acknowledging the blow.
Jennifer hit her with a closed fist and drew blood. A trickle of it ran from the corner of the woman's mouth and she leaned over and spat a bright red gobbet on the floor.
“I’m sorry to spit on your floor Jennifer but this suit cost over two thousand dollars,” the woman said through blood-stained teeth.
Jennifer quivered with rage when the woman used her name. She pulled back the hammer on the silenced pistol and placed the muzzle of the weapon in the middle of the woman’s forehead. Penelope looked alarmed. Jennifer’s eyes were icy and her gun-hand didn’t waiver. She appeared ready to shoot the woman and Penelope knew that she could do it without batting an eyelid. She had witnessed Jennifer do it before.
“Teodora Petrović sends her regards. She knows what Grigori Belinsky has done to you and she is sympathetic to your cause. She can’t help you directly of course so she sent me to protect you. Seems I have failed at my job,” the woman said.
Jennifer looked stunned and Penelope looked confused.
“Who the fuck is Teodora Petrović?” Penelope asked.
“She’s a Pakhan based in Naples. We have met in person only once but as well as working with each other professionally we have a lot in common,” Jennifer replied, never taking her eyes off the woman.
“And who are you?” Jennifer removed the pistol from the women’s forehead but kept it pointed at her.
“I am Michelle Dupree,” the woman said.
Jennifer lowered the pistol and studied the woman carefully.
To be continued
Partners In Crime - Chapter 2
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Chapter Two – The Phoenix Rises
The Harrison farmhouse, five miles west of Balwyn Texas
“I’ve heard of you. Didn’t we use you a couple of times for wet work?” Jennifer asked the woman sitting across from her at the small four-seater pine kitchen table.
The woman was of indeterminate age but well over forty and still strikingly beautiful. She must have been a stunner when she was young. Her emerald green eyes were enhanced by heavy black eyeliner and mascara and earthy eyeshadow: her skin alabaster white, her lips full, red and pouty, her pretty face framed by a perfectly coiffed burgundy bob.
She was showing no emotion whatsoever, despite having just been punched by Jennifer Jones so violently that the inside of her cheek had been cut so badly that she repeatedly spat blood on the floor. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back but the woman kept her head up and stared back at Jennifer with neither malice nor hatred.
“Yes you contracted me for wet work a few times when you were Dmitriy Yakovich’s Girl Friday, although we have never met personally. In fact, over the years I was often contracted by Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich and Alexi Reznik to provide my special services. You kinda fucked all that up for me when you killed them both and took over Dmitriy’s Bratva but I don’t hold it against you,” the woman spoke American English with a southern lilt.
“I always admire women who take the initiative and get ahead, especially in our business. Especially transwomen,” the woman looked longingly at the pack of cigarettes that Penelope Bishop had placed on the table and then questioningly up at Jennifer.
Jennifer nodded at Penelope who moved to uncuff the woman and Jennifer picked up the silenced pistol off the table and held it loosely in her lap where she could bring it up and fire it in a millisecond.
Then it clicked and Jennifer’s face filled with recognition.
“Michelle Dupree previously known as Crystal Greystone: American citizen born of two Russian sleeper agents who returned to the USSR. Worked as a KGB operative in the US throughout the cold war until Gorbachev’s perestroika and glasnost brought an end to hard-line communism and doomed the KGB,” Jennifer stated.
“I moved with the times and severed ties with my handler. Like others in similar circumstances I commercialised my operation and offered my services to the Solntsevskaya Bratva but not exclusively. I’ve done work for most organised criminal organisations provided they pay well and are professional,” Michelle massaged her wrists, working circulation back into her hands.
“May I?” she nodded at the cigarettes and Penelope picked up the packet and took one out and lit it and then gave it to Michelle.
“My doctor says I should give these up, but I’m still alive and kicking and there are other things out there far more deadly than cigarette carcinogens,” Michelle looked Jennifer directly in the eyes.
“As I said, Teodora Petrović sends her best wishes but she is unable to help you directly. The High Council and the other Pakhans are watching and waiting. Most are too busy with events in Ukraine to be perturbed about your situation but they are interested in the outcome,” Michelle continued.
“The High Council has directed that the other Bratvas are to remain neutral until the war between yourself and Grigori Belinsky is settled one way or the other,” Michelle spat another gobbet of blood on the floor.
“I’m sorry but you seem to have opened a capillary. It will stop bleeding soon,” Michelle said matter-of-factly.
Penelope took a clean dish cloth from a pile on the kitchen counter, ran it under the cold water and handed it to Michelle.
“Thank you. You have a little more compassion than your cold-hearted friend here,” Michelle smiled at Penelope and glared at Jennifer.
Jennifer raised the pistol and pointed it Michelle’s forehead.
“As a transwoman myself I understand the difficulties we have breaking the chains that bind us. My rezidentura handler, one Steven Boland, refused to allow me to transition, making me change my gender from male to female to suit the situation. When the FSB took over from the KGB Steven planned to offer my services to them,” Michelle studied the end of her cigarette.
“I decided to go in different direction and live my life as a transwoman and poor Steven didn’t like it so I had to take care of him. His body was never found and because he was an illegal resident no one missed him. I transitioned into the woman I always wanted to be,” Michelle tapped ash into the small pool of blood on the kitchen table.
“So here we are. Three transwomen, all hard as nails, all with a common goal,” Michelle smiled at Jennifer and Penelope through blood-stained teeth.
Jennifer pulled the trigger and the pistol jerked in her hand and made a soft phut sound.
The bullet passed one centimetre to the left of Michelle Dupree's ear and buried itself in the wall. Penelope jumped involuntarily.
“That’s a pretty good silencer,” Jennifer said emotionlessly.
“I only use the best tools,” Michelle smiled back at her.
“Now ladies. I have introduced myself and I know who both of you are so shall we dispense with the formalities and get down to business,” Michelle took a long drag on her cigarette.
“What business would that be?” Jennifer asked.
“The business of rescuing the three women for whom you both hold affection from the clutches of Grigori Belinsky and restoring Jennifer Jones back to her rightful position as Pakhan,” Michelle replied and stubbed out her cigarette in her own blood.
Michelle stood and walked over to the kitchen sink, took a glass and filled it with water and rinsed her mouth repeatedly to wash away the blood. Jennifer put down the pistol and went to one of the kitchen cabinets and took out a first aid kit and handed it to Michelle.
Penelope, who had witnessed the exchange in stunned silence, finally spoke.
“So let me see if I’ve got this right. Three transwomen in a Texas farmhouse intend to conspire to bring down a ruthless Russian mafia thug. This could only ever happen on Netflix,” Penelope put coffee into the Bunn and switched it on.
“And forgive me for being sceptical Miz Dupree but if you’ve been sent by this Petrović woman to protect Jennifer, you really fucked when you put a gun in her side outside The Longhorn,” Penelope found three coffee mugs and put them on the counter.
“She didn’t fuck up. She wanted us to capture her. She was testing us out,” Jennifer said coolly.
“Did we pass?” Jennifer asked.
“You were very professional although I could have done without the beating,” Michelle patted her cheek.
“You’ll live. What do you propose?” Jennifer asked.
“Let’s look at what we know. Grigori has someone deep inside your organisation who has infiltrated it to the extent that it is useless to you. You are limited in what you can do. Penelope has the resources of the Balwyn City Police Department at her disposal but will have to be discreet as to how she uses them,” Michelle counted off the points on her fingers.
“Grigori missed his chance to kill you at your dacha but he has taken your woman. He has also has her mother, who is one of your best friends. He will use the hostages to lure you out of hiding. I take it the beating and raping has already begun,” Michelle said dispassionately.
Penelope looked at Jennifer meaningfully but said nothing. She poured coffee.
“That is your weakness. Grigori knows that you will come for them eventually,” Michelle reached for Penelope’s cigarettes and lit one.
“You have summarised the situation adequately but I don’t need problems; I need solutions,” Jennifer said, snatching up the cigarettes and lighting up.
“We turn it around on him. We do the unexpected,” Michelle grinned.
“I’ve worked for Grigori before. He knows me and trusts me. He will believe me when I tell him that I have tracked you down and offer to bring you to him for a price. Of course I will negotiate a better price than what he offers me initially. He will be disappointed and probably even suspicious if I don’t,” Michelle smiled wickedly.
Jennifer raised the silenced pistol and pointed it at Michelle.
“How do we know that you aren’t going to double-cross us? How do we know that you haven’t got other operatives with you who are right now surrounding the farmhouse?” Jennifer waggled the pistol menacingly.
“Because if I was going to take you captive and sell you; you wouldn't have seen me coming. Penelope would be dead and you would be trussed up and on your way to Grigori,” Michelle replied matter-of-factly.
“But when Teodora Petrović contacted me and asked me to protect you I figured I would rather help you than hand you over to that animal. I respect you and all you have achieved. I would rather help out another transwoman who has overthrown a crazed madman like Dmitriy Yakovich and taken his Bratva for herself than his brother-in-law Grigori Belinsky who is no different to Dmitriy,” Michelle continued.
“To summarise, I respect Teodora Petrović and yourself and although I have worked for him in the past I hate Grigori Belinsky,” Michelle laid her hands flat on the table carefully; not making any sudden movements while Jennifer still held the pistol on her.
“But I am in the unique situation of being trusted by Grigori; as much as he trusts anyone,” Michelle smiled.
“I have already contacted Grigori and told him that I am looking for you,” she pointed a finger at Jennifer.
“There is nothing he wants more dearly than to actually get his hands on you. Can you imagine the things he would do to you before he killed you? If he killed you? He could keep you alive to suffer for the rest of your life,” Michelle said soberly.
“You use me as bait?” Jennifer smiled, putting the pistol back down on the table.
“I've been used as bait before. That’s how I got into this life,” Jennifer mused.
“And it can only be done by someone like Michelle Dupree. If I went to Grigori and offered to trade you for Alice he would smell a rat immediately,” Penelope said as she brought the coffee over to the table.
The three beautiful special women drank coffee, smoked cigarettes and plotted.
“How long do we have?” Michelle asked.
“Grigori can keep Katya and Katerina as long as he likes but Alice Leasingham is a law enforcement officer on furlough. She’s due back at work in eight days and she told everyone she knows in the Balwyn PD where she was going,” Penelope spoke.
“Grigori can’t just let her go but he can’t kill her either. She’s still a bargaining chip until her time runs out, then he will have to let her go or do something like stage a fatal accident; something the law enforcement agencies will buy,” Michelle continued.
“So that’s our timeline. I need to contact Grigori and set the bait. Penelope, you have contacts with the Federal and State agencies. Do you think you can rustle us up some transport and a safe house? We can’t use any of Jennifer’s resources and you guys can’t travel commercial, Jennifer’s ID will trigger an alert, even her false ones, you can count on it,” Michelle appeared to be in charge for the moment.
“I gotta get back to Balwyn and come up with some bullshit story to get me an excused absence while we deal with this. I’ll cash in a few favours and see if I can’t organise transport and accommodation. I also need to let my wife know that I’m going out of town, although she spends more time out of town than I do,” Penelope sighed.
Penelope’s common-law wife was another transwoman named Jaylene Foster. Penelope’s old partner Detective Steve Edwards had found a job for Jaylene making costumes and couture for the drag queens who worked at Ride ‘em Cowgirl, a nightclub run by Steve’s wife Felicity Benson who was known by her stage name Felicity Goodnight, a world famous drag queen. Jaylene was now famous in her own right and travelled around the country attending fashion shows and creating couture for famous drag queens and celebrities.
Steve had saved Penelope and Jaylene’s relationship by getting Jaylene the job at Ride ‘em Cowgirl but he had inadvertently created a problem for Penelope who refused to give up her job as Chief of Detectives at Balwyn PD whilst Jaylene spent most of her time in LA or New York designing fashion for celebs. Their relationship had suffered as Jaylene became more famous and more popular.
Katya Kuznetsova’s Cottage, Southold, Long Island
It had been three days since Grigori had uploaded the picture of a beaten and raped Katerina and the other two women to the chatroom and he knew that Jennifer had accessed it on numerous occasions. She must be fretting knowing that he held the love of her life and seeing what he done to her.
Stupid bitch! That was why women should never be bestowed with the privilege of being a Pakhan. They were too emotional. A man would kill his wife and family if his enemies violated them. He would never hand over what was his. Women and children were replaceable, pride, power and money were not!
Grigori had successfully attacked Jennifer’s Bratva and isolated her from using it by threatening to kill the three women he held captive. But he hadn't killed Jennifer and while she was alive she had a legitimate claim to the throne so to speak. If she went to the High Council they might take her side. Katerina had told Grigori that Jennifer had resources that she kept secret; that only Jennifer and Peter knew about, and Peter was dead.
Did Jennifer have reserves and assets that she could use to launch a counterattack?
All Grigori could do was wait for his own people to find Jennifer or for Michelle Dupree to contact him and let him know that she had successfully tracked her down. He liked the irony of a transgender assassin trying to find Jennifer. Maybe women with cocks thought the same? Maybe Michelle would find Jennifer before she inevitably came for her Girl Friday lover and her best friend and hand Jennifer to him on a platter. He was willing to pay almost anything to get his hands on Jennifer.
Grigori had given the women the freedom of the house so they could attend to their toilet and change their clothes. Each of the women was allowed a shower and permitted to change into more appropriate attire but he had stipulated no jeans or pants of any kind. The women were to wear skirts or dresses and heels and full makeup. He liked his women femme and he wanted his men to stay attentive and they were more likely to do so if the women looked attractive and sexy.
He had taken Katerina aside and told her that he still hadn't heard anything from Jennifer. Katerina still bore the marks from their vicious lovemaking and he had taken her to the upstairs bedroom twice more while Alice and Katya had to endure the sounds of what they thought was Katerina being raped but was in fact the sounds of her enjoying every minute of the brutal sex.
Grigori had posted another picture in the secure chatroom of Katerina lying on the bed looking freshly ravished.
“Jennifer will be planning and plotting as she is want to do. Has she asked the High Council or any of the other Bratvas for assistance?” Katerina asked as the she ran her fingernails down Grigori’s chest.
His shirt was open; his tattooed muscular chest on display. Katerina was rubbing up against him like a cat.
“The High Council has decreed that the other Bratvas are not to interfere but they have not taken a side,” Grigori lowered his face and kissed Katerina on the mouth, nipping her lips with his teeth.
“Without her lieutenants and her enforcers she is weak. She might attempt to hire mercenaries but we will know immediately if she does and in any event they will be no match for your men,” Katerina’s hand slid down to the bulge in Grigori's pants.
“Have you heard from the specialist who told you that she was trying to track Jennifer down?” Katerina asked.
“I have. She hasn’t found Jennifer yet but she is confident that she will find her,” Grigori replied.
“She? You sent a woman?” Katerina raised her brows inquisitively.
“Oh, this woman is unique. She used to be a KGB operative, a what do you call it… a sleeper agent back in the cold war,” Grigori smiled.
“The cold war? A sleeper agent, like in the TV show The Americans? She must be a granny by now,” Katerina was not impressed.
“You wouldn’t fuck with this granny Katerina. She’d flay you alive and sell you’re your skin to the highest bidder but I’ve instructed her to bring Jennifer to me alive if she finds her,” Grigori chuckled.
“While we wait for your granny and your other emissaries, maybe we should send Penelope another message. The angrier you make her, the more likely she is to act out of rage rather than reason,” Katerina smiled at Grigori and squeezed the thick coil in his trousers.
“You are a bitch,” Grigori whispered.
“A scorpion bitch,” Katerina bit his earlobe so hard that she drew blood.
Katerina was smiling evilly as she began to take off her jacket.
“What are you doing?” Grigori asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I thought you wanted to ravish me again and show Penelope the images. I thought this time you might get some pictures of us actually fucking. You’d be raping me of course,” Katerina sidled up to Grigori and nuzzled his bristled cheek.
“She already thinks I’m raping you. I’ve sent her pictures of you rigorously sullied already but now you have given me an idea,” Grigori smiled evilly.
“Come with me,” he grabbed Katerina's arm and dragged her out the room and downstairs to the parlour where the other two women were waiting anxiously.
Katya Kuznetsova and Alice Leasingham were dressed similarly to Katerina in skirted business suits. The mandate not to wear pants had limited their wardrobe choices.
Katya and her daughter wore business suits almost every day. Alice Leasingham had once been very bohemian, wearing casual clothing with long, flowy silhouettes such as maxi skirts and peasant dresses with oversized blouses and unstructured tunics. In her role as a CSI for the Balwyn PD she had worn faded jeans and t-shirts or long-sleeved flannel shirts in the cooler months.
All that changed when Alice met and became besotted with Katya Kuznetsova. Alice dyed her hair black and had it cut into a short bob the same as Katya’s and she started wearing suits or tailored skirts and blouses during the day and form-fitting dresses in the evening.
Katya and Katerina had scorpion tattoos on their left ankles. The tattoos indicated that the women were the property of their Pakhan; in Katya’s case it had been Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich and in Katerina’s case it was Jennifer Jones, although Jennifer had not insisted that Katerina mark herself thusly.
Alice Leasingham, who copied everything that Katya did, also got a scorpion tattoo on her left ankle and told Katya that she did it out of love and devotion. Alice was a brilliant CSI but lacked people skills and was awkward around men and women. When she fell head over heels for Katya, at first Katya was amused, then she realised that Alice had links and insight into law enforcement that would be helpful to both herself and her boss Jennifer.
After a while Katya developed genuine feelings for Alice and their long distance relationship blossomed. Alice remained devotedly faithful to Katya whilst Katya exercised her eclectic taste in sex partners when Alice was absent.
Grigori threw Katerina on the three-seater couch with Alice and Katya. Katya put her arms protectively around her daughter and Alice cuddled up to them both.
“Did he rape you again?” Katya whispered.
Katerina shook her head, feigning fear.
“You, you and you, get over here,” Grigori growled at three of his henchman.
“Ok ladies. I’d like you to sit up, close together and lean back into the sofa please,” Grigori said sweetly.
The three women remained huddled together shaking with fear.
“Olav. Separate the bitches. If any of one of them resists, you may bend her over the sofa and fuck her,” Grigori growled.
Olav hardly touched the women. They stopped hugging each other and sat side by side as Grigori had told them to do.
“Lift up your skirts and stick out your legs. Put your ankles together on the ottoman please,” Grigori said matter-of-factly.
The three women looked at each other with stunned curiosity but they complied. The alternative was unthinkable.
The women outstretched their long legs, sheathed in sheer skin-toned nylons which glistened under the harsh ceiling lights which Grigori had switched on while he fiddled with his phone.
“Get those skirts up higher, show my men some cunt,” Grigori grunted as he brought the screen of his phone up to his face.
“What hell is this?” Katya hissed but she complied as did the other two women.
Acres of firm thigh were revealed, encased in glimmering nylon, then in the case of Katya and Alice, the lacy tops of their hold up stockings. Katerina was wearing pantyhose and she revealed that she was wearing pristine white satin panties over them. Katya and Alice were wearing pink and red lace-trimmed nylon panties respectively.
The three thugs began to breathe heavily as they surveyed three pairs of stunning silken-clad legs shod in spiky high heels and three shaved pubises covered by the gussets of their pretty panties.
Alice blushed with embarrassment and fear whilst Katya and Katerina kept their heads held high and glared at Grigori’s henchmen.
“You may masturbate gentlemen. Aim your ejaculate at their ankles please,” Grigori arranged the women’s feet so that their left ankles were lined up together.
Grigori’s men took no time in freeing their cocks from their pants. They had been guarding the three attractive women for four days now, looking at their pretty faces, smelling their perfume, leering at their legs, their asses and their tits. Grigori had been taking Katerina away regularly and fucking her then bringing her back but the other two women remained unsullied and the men wanted their share.
The big tattooed brutes with shaved heads looked the women in the face and then their eyes drifted down to their breasts, pushing out against their blouses, then down to their bellies where their skirts were stretched taut across their midriffs. Then down to their groins where their skirts were hiked up exposing their pubic mounds glazed by satin and nylon panties. In the case of Katya and Alice they could see their clefts through the gauzy fabric.
They followed their long legs down to their feet and the shiny red bottoms of their Christian Louboutin high heels then back up those gorgeous gams to their cunts where their gaze remained as they tugged on their swollen penises.
The women couldn’t help but glance at the huge bulging members that looked threatening and almost lethal: pale shafts, long, thick and bulging with purple throbbing veins; the glans pink and mushroom-shaped, dribbling globules of clear, silvery pre-ejaculate.
The men closed in, aiming their cocks at the women's feet. Grigori was filming with a smirk on his face.
Alice felt a dribble of precum soak into her stocking. Then she shrieked as gobbets of semen splashed on her leg, the warm slimy mucus seemed to sear her flesh as it spattered on her ankle and darkened her nylon stocking as the clear prostatic secretions steeped into her nylons and wads of white spermatozoa coagulated on her ankle.
The man spraying his issue on Alice’s legs was shaking at the knees as he furiously whipped his cock whilst staring at Alice’s cunt, veiled by her transparent pink panties; his eyes screwed up in pleasure.
Then it was Katya’s turn as the man standing next to him stifled a moan as his penis erupted. A freshet of musky ejaculate flew from his throbbing member and splashed on Katya’s ankle and high heel. The slippery white sperm ran down her shiny pump, a gobbet dangled from her heel. The man sprayed ropes of steamy milt on Katya’s ankle, so much so that her nylons darkened and pools of the glutinous secretions ran down her leg in freshets.
Then the other man spattered his seed over Katerina’s finely turned ankle and leg, bathing her pantyhose in puddles of slimy, warm sperm.
The spunk from the three men had soaked the ankles and calves of the three women in a river of musky, scalding jism. The semen glowed silvery white under the overhead lights and the semen that hadn’t been absorbed by the girls nylons ran down their ankles and pooled in their feet. The women’s legs from below the knee to their expensive high heels were coated in a morass of ejaculate. The room reeked of the piquant stench of fresh semen.
And Grigori had filmed it all. He closed in on the three scorpion tattoos drenched in glistening semen under spunk-soaked nylons. He took some close-up footage of their sperm saturated ankles and finally finished filming.
The three women were stunned. Alice and Katerina couldn’t believe the barbarity of what had just occurred. Katya, who had suffered far worse fates in her lifetime, was pragmatic. She’d rather the three henchmen’s cum on her leg than in her vagina.
The men stuffed away their penises; relieved for now but wondering when Grigori was going to give the order to ravish the three bitches.
The woman suffered the further indignity of having to take off their stockings and pantyhose in front of the men. Katya gathered up the spunk-soaked nylons and tossed them in the trash in the kitchen and the women carried their high heels as they made their way upstairs barefoot to wash their legs and feet and put on clean nylons.
Meanwhile Grigori quickly edited the video clip and uploaded it to the secure chatroom.
This is what I think of your talisman, skorpion suka. Scorpion bitch you might be, but your women are mine. Surrender before they face far worse consequences. I can barely control my men who want to tear into them. I think I’ll fuck your girlfriend again while you consider your options. was the caption that accompanied the video.
Watching his henchmen masturbate over his captives feet while their skirts were hiked up had reinvigorated Grigori’s libido. He stormed into the bedroom where the women were huddled together changing their nylons and dragged Katerina by her hair, kicking and screaming into bedroom next door.
Katya and Alice had to endure listening to Katerina’s cries and laments and the banging of the bed against the wall whilst Grigori violated her. If they could see through the wall, they would have seen that Katerina was giving as much as she got, encouraging Grigori to fuck her harder. Her howls and squeals were not cries of despair but the moans and mewls of a slattern in heat.
The Bishop Residence, Balwyn Texas
Penelope went into the bedroom to find Jaylene Foster packing a suitcase. This was not an unusual occurrence.
“Where to this time?” Penelope asked.
“Felicity Goodnight is hosting a runway show in New York as part of Fashion Week. They're using drag queens as models, mostly ‘Ru girls’ and six of them are wearing my couture. I told you about this,” Jaylene tried hard to keep the frustration out of her voice.
“Sorry Jaylene, you're away so often that it all seems to meld together,” Penelope dropped her handbag and approached Jaylene.
Jaylene was ten years younger than Penelope and her career was at its pinnacle whilst Penelope’s was nearly over. The age difference had never bothered either of them until recently. Jaylene had asked Penelope to quit Balwyn PD and move with her to LA where she spent most of her time but Penelope had refused.
Jaylene was tall and slim with long brunette hair which she kept perfectly coiffed. She had recently had her breasts redone and they swelled the cashmere sweater she was wearing atop a pleated skirt, her legs sheathed in opaque black thigh-high stockings. Her makeup was perfect as usual. Any single item of clothing that Jaylene was wearing would cost more than Penelope’s suit.
When Penelope had met Jaylene she was working the streets to pay for her tuition at Balwyn College and ostensibly to pay for bottom surgery to complete her gender reassignment. Jaylene had decided against vaginoplasty when she finally had the money to pay for it. It was part of her aesthetic that she was a proud transwoman who still had her penis. Working around drag queens gave her cred.
Penelope put her arms around Jaylene and kissed her and Jaylene kissed her back. Their tongues snaked into each other’s mouths delicately. Their breasts pushed against each other, their perfumes intermingled and Penelope found herself becoming tumescent.
Penelope’s kisses became ardent and she pulled Jaylene closer, her cock was uncomfortably erect between her legs.
“I don’t have time for this Penelope. My car will be here soon,” Jaylene put her hands on Penelope’s shoulders and pressed gently, pushing her away.
Penelope refused to move. It was the story of their lives recently. They hardly spent any time together and when they did they hardly spoke and were too busy to love each other. They were becoming ships in the night.
Penelope pushed Jaylene’s hands away and pulled her into a tight embrace and thrust her tongue into Jaylene's mouth. She squeezed Jaylene’s buttocks and then slipped her hands under Jaylene’s skirt. Jaylene wriggled, trying to break free.
“Stop it Penelope, you’ll fuck up my clothes and I don’t have time to change,” Jaylene hissed.
Penelope didn’t stop. She put her hand on Jaylene's three hundred dollar Miu Miu satin panties and found Jaylene’s penis semi-erect. She squeezed Jaylene’s erection through the slippery garment and Jaylene gasped.
“I told you that I don’t have time for this!” Jaylene tried to slap away Penelope’s hand.
Penelope kissed Jaylene even harder and clutched her tight with one arm whilst she stroked Jaylene’s cock to full tumescence through her panties.
Jaylene was eventually able to get her hands up on Penelope’s shoulders and pushed with all her might and Penelope staggered backwards.
“Alright! If that’s what you want, take it. Just don’t fuck up my clothes!” Jaylene turned her back to Penelope and bent over and put her hands on the bed.
Jaylene lifted her skirt out of the way, showing off her lovely derriere clad in the mid-rise, pink satin knickers and her long coltish legs sheathed in the expensive black opaques. Penelope was angry and normally this would have been the end of their argument: Jaylene offering a subservient sacrifice to guilt Penelope into apologising; but not this time.
Penelope hiked up her skirt and yanked down her panties and pantyhose, bunching them around her thighs. She tugged down Jaylene’s Miu Miu knickers exposing her creamy white buttocks and slammed her cock into Jaylene’s tight anus.
“Jesus! You bitch!” Jaylene yelped as Penelope’s cock violated her unlubricated anus.
It was tight and Penelope was all the way inside Jaylene, her pubis pressed into Jaylene’s soft white ass.
Penelope put her hands on Jaylene’s shoulders and held onto her while Jaylene tried to push Penelope’s cock out of her ass. The grinding and wriggling increased Penelope’s pleasure as Jaylene’s tight anus squeezed and rippled around Penelope’s throbbing cock. This induced Penelope to leak a continual stream of pre-ejaculate into Jaylene’s rectum and the precum lubricated it enough so that Penelope could begin to thrust in and out of Jaylene’s tight asshole.
“You fucking bitch; you're raping me!” Jaylene sighed but Penelope could feel Jaylene moving with her.
“You offered me your ass so I took it. No rape involved,” Penelope grunted as she moved her hands to Jaylene’s hips and began to vigorously fuck her.
Jaylene’s tight anus was spasming around Penelope’s cock; a sure sign that Penelope was banging her glans on Jaylene’s prostate which she knew sent Jaylene in paroxysms of pleasure. Jaylene felt Penelope cock driving in and out of her tight passage, the shaft eliciting ringlets of pleasure from her sphincter and the head of Penelope’s penis pressing on Jaylene’s prostate generated an orgasmic ripple deep inside her bowel.
“Fuck you Penny!” Jaylene was still furious but she couldn’t deny the wantonness that Penelope had invoked in her.
She pushed back and wriggled her ass to both increase her own pleasure and encourage Penelope to orgasm quickly.
“Do not get spunk on these clothes you bitch!” Jaylene hissed as she felt her orgasm about to erupt.
Penelope sensed it and she grabbed Jaylene’s throbbing cock and yanked it furiously, using Jaylene’s precum as lubricant. She aimed Jaylene’s cock downwards towards the bedspread as she felt it throb and judder when Jaylene suddenly ejaculated.
“Oh you fucking bitch! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Jaylene cried as a monstrous orgasm erupted.
Her anus clenched and quivered around Penelope’s cock as Penelope disgorged her hot load deep inside Jaylene's rectum. Penelope’s orgasm was staggering; her cock felt like it was being gently milked by a silken glove as Jaylene’s anus palpitated, squeezing and releasing Penelope’s shuddering organ.
Jaylene’s cock juddered and quivered as Penelope squeezed every last drop of semen from it. It felt wonderfully decadent and the circlets of pleasure joined those that radiated from her sphincter and her prostate. Jaylene would have collapsed on the bed if Penelope were not holding her by her hips as she pounded her cock in and out of her rectum.
They both peaked and came down from their orgasmic highs at the same time and were left with the reality that a town car was honking its horn outside of their bedroom window while Penelope still had Jaylene impaled on her cock.
Penelope snatched a wad of tissues off the bedside table and carefully pulled her deflating penis out of Jaylene’s anus, catching the flow of semen that dribbled from Jaylene’s sphincter. Jaylene held her skirt out of the way while she wiped the last drops of semen from her shrivelling cock and carefully put it back inside her expensive panties.
Penelope had backed away and was pulling up her panties and her nylons whilst Jaylene lowered and straightened her skirt. Jaylene quickly checked her makeup in a small handheld mirror.
“I’ll have to fix my lipstick in the car and your cum will be dribbling out of my ass all the way to New York. I’ll have to put a pad in there,” Jaylene said angrily.
This was the first time they had made love for several weeks and although it had satisfied both of their lusts it had been violent and needy and not the loving expression of affection that they shared when they had first moved in together.
“At least you’ll have some of me with you,” Penelope said snarkily, pulling the gusset of her pantyhose tight across her little pot belly.
“We’ll talk when I get back. Do I have any spunk on me?” Jaylene twirled around in front of Penelope who shook her head.
The limo driver honked his horn again and Jaylene snatched up her jacket and her Prada handbag then grabbed the handle of her wheeled suitcase and hurried away.
“You bitch,” Penelope smiled to herself wickedly as she saw the silvery semen trail on the back of Jaylene’s skirt.
When the front door slammed shut Penelope threw herself on the bed and began to sob.
When she was cried out she got up off the bed and fixed her face then she made a call to Special Agent Dan Murphy at the Texas Department of Public Safety.
Dan was a big handsome man who always wore suits and was trim and muscled with a flat-top haircut and trimmed moustache that just screamed law enforcement. He and Penelope had built a rapport during the ‘bodies in the can’ case which had seen the demise of Alexi Reznik and Dmitriy Yakovich. Dan had been at the scene, betrayed by Jennifer Jones but glad that two vicious thugs had faced rough justice.
It was during this investigation that Alice Leasingham had fallen for Katya Kuznetsova but more importantly for Penelope, Dan and Katya had had a fling and Dan liked her. Like Penelope, Dan had been promoted to a supervisory positon and had clout.
Penelope explained the situation and asked Dan if he could provide fast transport to Long Island New York and if he could do so on the QT. She pushed her luck and asked if Dan’s contacts in the FBI might have a safe house they might be able to use.
Dan still carried a flame for Katya and he and Penelope were good friends. Although he had no time for Jennifer Jones he agreed to help.
“I can get you a Lear out of Balwyn later today. I’ll text you the details when I’ve arranged a flight plan. I’ll need to pull in a favour or three with our friends in New York,” Dan said.
“Thank you so much Dan. You don’t know how much this means to me,” Penelope gave a sigh of relief.
“This is all off the record Penelope. I owe you and Katya but if that bitch Jennifer Jones accidently gets shot during the rescue mission I won’t lose any sleep,” Dan growled.
Penelope gave a wry smile.
“Thanks Dan, I owe you big time,” Penelope replied.
“You be careful Penelope and tell Katya I still think of her,” Dan closed the connection.
Penelope called Silvia Bickle and then the Chief of Police and told them that she was taking some personal days. They both knew that Penelope was having a hard time adjusting to being Chief of Detectives and that her relationship with Jaylene Foster was shaky so it came as no surprise. The Chief and Silvia wished Penelope well and the Chief of Police told Penelope to take as long as she needed.
It was Penelope’s turn to pack a bag, which she did and threw it in her car. She locked up the house and drove off towards the Harrison place.
The Harrison farmhouse, five miles west of Balwyn Texas
After Penelope left for Balwyn, Jennifer went out to her BMW and collected her things and brought them inside. Michelle was fiddling on her phone when Jennifer lugged her suitcase upstairs. Michelle found cleaning products in the kitchen closet and after wiping her blood off the table she began to mop the kitchen floor just as Jennifer came back downstairs with her laptop.
“You don’t have to do that,” Jennifer said.
“Really? Who else is going to do it?” Michelle replied caustically.
“Look I’m sorry I slapped you,” Jennifer said without any inkling of genuine regret in her tone.
“You hit like a girl,” Michelle snickered as she replaced the mop and bucket in the closet.
“Well I was hitting a granny,” Jennifer quipped.
“A granny who could take you in the blink of an eye if she so desired,” Michelle countered.
“Seriously; let me look at your face,” Jennifer said, this time with some expression of remorse.
Michelle stood still while Jennifer examined her face. Because of the height difference Michelle had to bend her knees slightly and Jennifer had to stand on her tippytoes.
There was a bruise forming under Michelle’s left eye. It was nothing a little foundation and powder couldn’t hide but it was there none the less.
Up this close Jennifer could see the fine wrinkles in Michelle’s almost perfect skin. It was then she realised that Michelle had to be in her fifties but was still strikingly beautiful. She had aged gracefully and her comparison to Joanna Lumley with red hair returned.
“Open your mouth and let me see,” Jennifer said after lightly touching the bruise on Michelle’s cheek.
“Just because we are on a farm doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a horse,” Michelle quipped but she opened her mouth anyway.
Her breath smelled of cigarettes and coffee but not unpleasantly so. Up this close Jennifer recognised that Michelle was wearing Dior Poison. It was uncanny because it was also Jennifer and Penelope’s favourite perfume.
“Stop whining, or is that whinnying?” Jennifer laughed at her own joke and Michelle uttered a chortle which was difficult with her mouth open wide.
“Like you said, there are a couple of broken capillaries and they always bleed a lot. The bleeding has stopped but you are not going to be eating chilli for a while,” Jennifer inspected the inside of Michelle’s mouth.
Jennifer was surprised that she felt attracted to this woman. She and Penelope had fooled around a little and Penelope was at least ten years older than Jennifer but Michelle had to be fifty-something. Then again she and Katya used to fuck before Katerina came on the scene. Maybe Jennifer was attracted to older women despite her love for Katerina.
She felt guilty knowing that Grigori was putting Katerina through hell but she knew that it beat the alternative. By staying alive herself, it guaranteed that Katerina would be kept alive as a bargaining chip as would Katya and Alice. Jennifer knew from experience that when there was no possibility of escape, compliance was the best defence against men like Grigori. Katerina was with Katya who had been held captive and defiled before and knew how to survive it and she would ensure her daughter did too.
But none of this eased the guilt that Jennifer felt as she stood breast to breast with a woman she was feeling an uncanny attraction towards.
The break in concentration caused Jennifer to stumble on her tiptoes and she fell into the arms of Michelle Dupree who caught her and prevented her from falling. Michelle looked down at Jennifer; their bodies pressed together and the two women locked their emerald-green eyes and stared at each other knowingly for a brief moment. Michelle could tell that Jennifer was attracted to her and she was attracted to Jennifer.
Michelle held Jennifer a little closer and a little longer than was necessary before easing her back onto her feet and releasing her.
“I told you I could take you in a fair fight. You’re clumsy,” Michelle said in her throaty southern drawl, the resonance of which for some reason pushed Jennifer’s buttons.
“Once again I’m sorry about punching you,” Jennifer craned upward and kissed Michelle on her cheek.
Both women were flushed and the tension in the room was palpable.
“Do you want to hear the rest of my plan?” Michelle said, clearing her throat.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Jennifer made a fuss smoothing out her blazer which didn’t need it and sat down behind her laptop at the kitchen table.
“Do you have anything to drink besides coffee?” Michelle asked.
“There is a wet bar in the lounge room and mixers in the mini-fridge under it. I’ll have a gin and tonic; there are limes in the fridge too,” Jennifer replied.
Jennifer booted up her laptop. The house was serviced by an encrypted wifi routed through a VPN which had further encryption algorithms applied and Jennifer was confident that Grigori's online spies would not be able to find her.
Michelle returned with drinks just as Jennifer entered the chatroom and opened the video file.
Both women watched Grigori's thugs spray their semen over the three shapely, nylon-shrouded calves. Jennifer showed no emotion but inside she was fuming as she read Grigori's message.
“Scorpion bitch eh? Cute name,” Michelle teased as she leaned over Jennifer’s shoulder to read the message.
Jennifer felt the soft tickle of Michelle’s breath on her ear and her guilt returned; especially after what she had just witnessed on the screen. Michelle put down Jennifer’s drink and took a step back. Jennifer turned to Michelle and lifted her leg and slid her legging up her calf a little to expose her ankle and the scorpion tattoo.
“Pantyhose under leggings; a girl after my own heart,” Michelle raised her glass and then took a seat beside Jennifer.
“The pantyhose make it easier to slip into my leggings and help keep me warm,” Jennifer said and then realised that she didn’t have to explain herself to this woman.
Jennifer would have felt more comfortable with Jennifer sitting across from her but she said nothing. She told Michelle the meaning of the tattoo and how she had come to get it.
“Quite a tale,” Michelle examined her crystal glass and then she told Jennifer her own life story.
“We both have ties to Matushka Rossiya even though neither of us were born there,” Michelle smiled.
“I’m no longer their favourite daughter of course. After Stephan Boriliski went missing, the FSB sent someone after me. It was, shall we say, messy. I had to send a message back. The FSB got the message and they leave me alone and I don’t disclose any of their secrets. Do you have any cigarettes?” Michelle smiled offhandedly.
“Yes I do but where are yours? I presume you didn’t come to Balwyn without any personal possessions,” Jennifer fished cigarettes and a lighter out of her purse.
She’d bought the cigarettes on the road even though she had been trying repeatedly to give up. It was something else that she and Penelope had in common.
“I have a car parked in the parking lot behind the Longhorn. We can go get it once we have concluded our business here,” Michelle said as she lit up.
“So… the rest of your plan?” Jennifer brought the conversation back on track.
Michelle put an arm around Jennifer and stroked her shoulder.
“Speaking of torture it must be hell knowing that Grigori has your lover and best friend in his clutches and imagining what he is doing to them,” Michelle nodded at the computer screen.
“The women can endure it and Grigori won’t resort to torture once you make contact with him and begin to make the trade. He knows that he can only trade the three women for me if they remain unharmed physically. He will save the torture for when he has me,” Jennifer touched Michelle’s hand affectionately.
“And it’s your job to make sure that never happens; you promised Teodora Petrović remember?” Jennifer smiled ruefully.
“If we can’t take Grigori at the handover, it’s your job to ensure that I am not taken alive if our plan goes to shit. You can you imagine what he is going do to me if he ever gets his hands on me,” Jennifer sighed.
“I promise you that if it all goes to shit you will be dead before Grigori ever gets his hands on you. I can’t guarantee what he will do with your corpse though,” Michelle added some macabre humour.
“Let me freshen your drink,” Michelle picked up their glasses and took them into the lounge to refill them.
Jennifer followed and dropped down into the sofa and sighed wearily.
“I hate waiting,” Jennifer looked up at Michelle when Michelle handed her the drink.
“There is nothing to do until Penelope returns,” Michelle added.
“We can always fuck. I’ve found that always passes the time,” Michelle sat down next Jennifer, crowding her into the corner of the large sofa.
Michelle leaned into Jennifer, her large frame towering over the diminutive Jennifer. Michelle pressed a kiss on Jennifer and for a fleeting moment Jennifer felt guilty about Katerina and her plight but Jennifer was emotionally and mentally exhausted after her ordeal and welcomed the distraction.
When Michelle placed her soft lips on Jennifer’s and kissed her, Jennifer responded. She allowed the older woman to kiss her deeply, their tongues entwining, their breathing laboured. Michelle slipped her hand inside Jennifer’s sports top and Jennifer welcomed the feel of Michelle’s fingers caressing her flesh and the light scratching of her fingernails as she popped Jennifer’s breasts out of her brassiere and fingered her nipples until they engorged.
Jennifer slipped her hand inside Michelle’s satin blouse and kissed her with more ardour. Michelle winced at the pressure because of the injury that Jennifer had inflicted on her mouth. Jennifer savoured the salty tang of Michelle’s blood in her mouth as she freed the older woman’s larger breasts from her brassiere and hefted one of them in her hand and flicked the nipple until it engorged. For some reason Jennifer felt that she was making up for injuring Michelle by kissing her bruised lips and torn cheek.
Michelle slipped her free hand inside the waistband of Jennifer’s leggings. Michelle broke the kiss briefly.
“I still remember the first time I tried on a pair of pantyhose. I was still young and unsure of why I preferred women’s clothing to men’s. I remember the sensuous silky feel of the nylons sliding up legs. My cock hardening when I pulled the gusset up around my waist. I touched myself just like this,” Michelle slid her fingers along Jennifer’s shaft encased in the flimsy hose.
The perfect Vee that Jennifer sported in her crotch was now distended by her hardening penis which became fully tumescent as Michelle stroked the throbbing organ through the sheer nylon. Jennifer was not wearing panties and Michelle traced the outline of Jennifer’s cock and then tickled her frenulum, pressing the diaphanous hosiery against the sensitive flesh, smiling as she felt Jennifer shudder in her embrace.
Jennifer’s hand continued its journey down across Michelle’s belly, continuing its journey to her legs. Jennifer started at the knee and stroked Michelle’s leg, continuing up the limb under Michelle’s skirt to her thighs, discovering that Michelle was indeed wearing Wolford hold-up stockings. She fondled Michelle’s thighs for a brief interlude, while Michelle continued to stroke Jennifer’s cock through her pantyhose.
Jennifer brushed her hand across Michelle’s pubis and found her substantial penis tenting her panties.
“We don’t have much time. Let me…” Michelle disengaged briefly and pushed Jennifer down on the couch.
She pulled off Jennifer’s spiked Louboutin heels and put her fingers in the waistband of her leggings and rolled them down Jennifer’s legs revealing her taupe sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose. Jennifer’s cock lay flat along her trim belly, a dark wet patch staining the nylon where Jennifer was leaking precum.
Jennifer unzipped the zipper in the side of Michelle’s skirt and it fell down her legs exposing a pair of white high-rise satin classic briefs. The waistband sat very high on her waist and the leg holes were small so the garment covered as much area between waist and thigh as possible.
“Granny panties,” Jennifer chuckled.
“Hey, when you get to my age you will appreciate their practicality. They hold everything in place and don’t ruin the silhouette of my skirt,” Michelle replied defensively.
“I think they are awesome and sexy as hell,” Jennifer whispered and reached out and squeezed Michelle’s distended penis through the chiffony material.
Jennifer stroked Michelle’s cock through her panties while Michelle caressed Jennifer’s penis through her pantyhose. Both women were breathing heavily delighting in the feel of long fingers fondling distended penises through diaphanous fabric, both cocks leaking pre-ejaculate, aching for release.
Jennifer pulled at the waistband of Michelle’s panties until her bloated organ popped free of the garment. She bent forward and took Michelle’s cock in her mouth and began to suckle it.
It had been some since Jennifer had played with a penis. She and Katrina sometimes invited another woman into their bed but never a man. Jennifer enjoyed sucking on Michelle’s hard phallus and she cupped Michelle’s scrotum and fondled it while she fellated her.
Michelle gripped Jennifer’s cock and rubbed it a little harder and felt it judder while she enjoyed the sensation of Jennifer’s lips sliding up and down her shaft and her tongue flittering on her glans. She felt a warm glow spreading from her belly to her genitals and sensed that she wouldn’t last long if Jennifer continued to suck her cock.
Michelle gripped Jennifer’s ankles and upended her so that she was lying prone of the sofa. She fell on Jennifer and pressed her cock against Jennifer’s, grinding it against her pantyhose-swathed organ, kissing her passionately while she did so.
Jennifer wrapped her arms and legs around Michelle. It had been some time since she had been the bottom and she was enjoying lying underneath this gorgeous older woman whose cock had lost no substantiality because of her age.
Michelle snaked a finger between their bodies and found the crease in Jennifer’s buttocks and ripped a hole in her pantyhose. She slid her cock inside the hole and pressed it against Jennifer’s sphincter.
“Are you ready? I don’t have any lube,” Michelle whispered.
She might not have had lubricant but Michelle’s cock was leaking a continual dribble of precum and Jennifer’s puckered bud was slick with it.
Jennifer nodded, looking up lovingly into Michelle’s eyes that were as icy-green as her own. She pulled Michelle’s face to hers and kissed deeply, grimacing as Michelle’s cock slid inside her.
Jennifer had not had cock inside her for a considerable period of time and Michelle sensed her trepidation and stopped with just an inch of her engorged phallus just inside Jennifer’s anus. Jennifer took a beat to get used to Michelle’s bloated appendage and after the initial pain; a surge of pleasure began to ripple through her body. She wriggled a little indicating to Michelle to continue. Their tongues explored each other’s mouths and Jennifer gasped as Michelle eased the rest of long, sleek cock inside Jennifer’s anus.
They lay like that with Michelle’s cock buried inside Jennifer, their arms wrapped around each other, slinky nyloned legs rubbing together, Michelle’s pubis pressing into Jennifer’s soft buttocks, Jennifer’s cock flat against Michelle’s belly; not moving, just kissing and caressing. Michelle could feel Jennifer's anus clenching her steely organ, her scrotum pressing against her pantyhosed buttocks.
Jennifer felt Mitchell’s penis snug inside her, quivering occasionally, her pre-ejaculate lubricating Jennifer's tight channel. When they both sensed it was right, Michelle began to fuck Jennifer with long slow strokes, extracting her penis nearly all the way and then thrusting it slowly back inside the cloying softness of Jennifer’s rectum.
They held each other tight, kissing, fucking, fondling each other, slowly building to a climax. Their fucking gradually became frenetic as Jennifer encouraged Michelle to fuck her harder, fuck her deeper as she raked her fingernails down Michelle’s back, her hands inside her blouse. She moved her hands to Michelle’s ass, still swathed in the satin granny panties and clutched at her perfect globes through the fabric, encouraging Michelle to fuck her faster.
Michelle felt Jennifer’s cock pressing on her belly, leaking precum and quivering in anticipation of release, Jennifer’s anus clutching at her hard cock as she drove it in and out of this diminutive woman. They gasped into each other’s mouths, their tongues lashing, their bodies shaking, mouthing obscenities as they used each other to unleash their passions.
Michelle drove Jennifer into the sofa and pushed her cock all the way inside her and released. Torrents of creamy ejaculate filled Jennifer’s void and she felt Michelle’s cock swell and judder as she ejaculated inside her. Michelle felt the scalding slippery fluid on her belly as Jennifer’s orgasm erupted, her cock pressed hard against Michelle’s flesh.
They clung to each other, rutting like animals as they both relished the sublime ecstasy that only simultaneous orgasm can evoke. They clung to each other, kissing and caressing each other as they came down from their orgasmic highs. They lay in each other’s arms, neither of them speaking until they both realised that they had forgotten the passage of time.
They spoke little as they disengaged and went through the practicalities of post-coital cleansing, using tissues to mop up semen and body fluids and then both retiring to different bathrooms.
In the bathroom guilt washed over Jennifer as she thought about Katerina being repeatedly abused by Grigori while she remained free. But she needed the interlude, the distraction of meaningless sex with Michelle, and she wondered if Michelle had sensed it and acted accordingly.
Ever since the attack on her dacha and every time she looked at the videos in Grigori's chatroom she felt nothing but guilt, remorse and helplessness. But now she had two strong allies and they would free the three women being held captive by Grigori Belinsky and exact their revenge.
Jennifer had the luxury of having her suitcase with her so she could change into fresh pantyhose but she put on the same leggings and sports top so as not to arouse Penelope’s suspicions when she returned.
“I needed that,” Jennifer said as she poured herself and Michelle a drink.
“So did I. It’s been a while since I have fucked another transwoman and I had forgotten what it was like to be the top,” Michelle took the proffered drink.
Jennifer sat down beside Michelle and snuggled up to her and kissed her.
“Thank you for the distraction,” Jennifer whispered.
They heard the crunch of tires on the gravel in forecourt and Jennifer disengaged and moved slightly away from Michelle on the sofa.
The front door banged open and Penelope lugged her suitcase inside the farmhouse finding Jennifer and Michelle sitting side by side looking at the screen of Jennifer’s laptop. They were sitting very close to one and other and Penelope was sure that she could smell sex. They both had the rosy glow and self-satisfied looks on their faces associated with people who had just had great sex and their makeup was a little too perfect, like it had been freshly touched up… or she could she just be full of shit and maybe a little jealous.
Penelope and Jennifer had fucked before and despite her age; Penelope would gladly slip the old broad Michelle Dupree a fuck, even if it was a grudge fuck to get back at Jaylene.
Jennifer and Michelle had fresh gin and tonics before them so Penelope went to the refrigerator and got herself a coke and sat down next to them.
“What have you two been up to while I was away actually doing something useful?” Penelope quipped pouring the coke over ice.
“Grigori posted a video in the chatroom. You probably don’t want to see it; it’s vile. He made more threats,” Jennifer said.
“Has he done anything to Alice?” Penelope asked anxiously.
“Take a look. It’s nothing violent but it’s not pleasant,” Michelle turned the screen towards where Penelope was sitting.
“Jesus that man is a freak,” Penelope screwed up her face at the video.
“I have contacted Grigori and told him that I have found Jennifer and am willing to trade. For obvious reasons I did not tell him the circumstances in which I found her or where we are,” Michelle extrapolated.
“I have secured a private plane for us and my contact is finding us a safe house. We need to get rolling,” Penelope finished her coke.
“This contact can be trusted?” Michelle raised her brows to Penelope.
“He owes me a favour and he has a vested interest in seeing that Katya Kuznetsova is kept safe. They had a fling a little while ago and he still holds a torch for her,” Penelope explained.
“You women seem to be very free with your bodies,” Michelle quipped, finishing her gin, smiling clandestinely at Jennifer who blushed.
“From what you have told us, you not averse to using your own body to get what you want,” Penelope retorted.
“Touché,” Michelle smiled at Penelope and shrugged her shoulders.
“Do you two want to pull out your Johnson’s to see whose is bigger or if the pissing contest is over maybe we should pack up and get to the airport,” Jennifer interrupted the two older women.
“Oh there is no animosity between us. I like this woman. I like women who have fat asses,” Michelle smirked at Penelope.
“Fuck you,” Penelope smiled sweetly at Michelle.
“You wish,” Michelle countered.
“Fuck this. Let’s roll,” Jennifer got up and indicated that she had enough.
“Let’s get this done. We’ll take my car to the Longhorn so Michelle can pick up her car and follow us to Balwyn airport,” Jennifer was all business.
“I need to stop briefly at Balwyn PD. There are a few things there I need to borrow,” Penelope said as they jumped into Jennifer’s BMW.
To be continued
Partners In Crime - Chapter 3
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Chapter Three – Storm Clouds
Hilton Garden Inn Portsmouth, New Hampshire – Six Months Earlier
Katerina Kuznetsova was nervous. She knew that she hadn't been followed and she had disabled the tracking devices that Peter Small had installed on her phone and in her car. Jennifer Jones believed that her Girl Friday and lover was on one of her regular shopping sprees downtown.
Katerina was nervous because she was about to meet the most dangerous man that she knew of.
The door opened and Grigori Belinsky stepped into the room followed by two armed bodyguards. He said nothing and put a finger to his sensuous lips indicating that Katerina was to remain silent too.
One of the bodyguards put a briefcase on the sideboard table, opened it and took out a military-grade 5G bug detector capable of detecting even the most advanced and obscured bugs that used Bluetooth and Wifi protocols. These bugs are notoriously hard to find owing to their low-power output and specialized modulation methods.
When he had finished scanning the room he walked over to Katerina and without any pretence he took off her jacket and searched it and then he unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. She stood perfectly still while he searched her body thoroughly while Grigori watched on impassively. The bodyguard took off her high heels and used the bug detector on them before dropping them back on the floor.
When the bodyguard was convinced that neither the room nor Katerina were bugged he nodded curtly at Grigori and indicated for Katerina to dress. She pulled up her skirt, tucked the tails of her blouse into the waistband, buttoned it closed and slipped her heels back on. She left her jacket where the thug had placed it, hung over the back of a chair.
Grigori nodded at his two minders who packed up the briefcase and took up station outside the door of the penthouse suite.
“Hello uncle Grigori,” Katerina said sweetly although inside she was terrified.
Grigori ignored the greeting and walked confidently over to the wet bar and poured himself a double shot of Stoli, ignoring the other bottles of expensive spirits that Katerina had ordered when she had booked the room. He didn’t offer Katerina a drink and kept his back to her as he spoke.
“I have to admit that I was quite surprised when Jennifer Jones’ housecat contacted me,” Grigori said in his not displeasing deep resonant tone and Slavic accent.
He was even bigger in person, his muscled frame evident in his tight-fitting bespoke suit. His collar-length hair was jet-black with steaks of grey as was his beard. He was ruggedly handsome but his ice-blue eyes were cold and cruel and his demeanour was composed and confident.
“Why did you call me uncle?” he turned to face Katerina, his eyes crawling over her body, openly appraising her.
“Because you are. My father was Dmitriy Yakovich and my mother is Katya Kuznetsova,” Katerina said a little defiantly.
“Your mother is a whore-monger and has been a whore herself. I doubt that my brother-in-law would procreate with such a shlyukha, Grigori spat.
Although not fluent, Katerina recognised the Russian term that encompassed the words: slut, hooker, harlot, prostitute, tart.
“Your claim is preposterous,” he shook his leonine head and took a swallow of his drink.
“Dmitriy never knew. My mother kept it secret and had me raised overseas until Dmitriy died,” Katerina said with calmness that she wasn’t feeling.
“But if what you say is true, you work for the transvestite-shlyukha who killed your father. Does she fuck you too?” Grigori grinned evilly, not expecting an answer.
“I would fuck you, even though you claim to be my niece. In fact knowing that you are my niece would make it even more exciting,” his grin widened.
“What is to stop me throwing you on the bed and fucking you and then taking you hostage?” Grigori poured himself another drink.
“I fully expect you to fuck me on that bed but first I would like to make you a business proposal. What you said about taking me hostage is actually part of that proposal but not right now. If you listen to what I have to say, between us we can bring down the skorpion suka,” Katerina sidled up to the bar and poured herself a drink.
Standing so close to this big, powerful, ruthless killer, it was hard not to shake with fear, but Katerina also felt herself becoming a little wet. There was something very stimulating and arousing about Grigori Belinsky.
“So why do you want to betray your mistress?” Grigori was no longer acting nonchalant; Katerina could tell that he was interested in what she had to say.
“Jennifer used me as bait to lure Alexi Reznik to an ambush where he was killed by my father. Then she killed my father and took over his Bratva. It was a cold, calculated and brazen move. I became immediately infatuated with her,” Katerina went over to the minibar and poured herself another gin and tonic.
“Of course at the time I was unaware that Dmitriy Yakovich was my father,” Katerina took a sip of her drink and continued.
“I became Jennifer’s Girl Friday, taking on the role that Jennifer herself had before she became Pakhan. I worshipped her and was amazed by her abilities. But she has never allowed me to be fully immersed in the business and she keeps secrets from me, thinking she is protecting me,” Katerina said.
Grigori was sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out before him, looking a little bemused.
Katerina continued, knowing that she had only one chance to ingratiate herself with Grigori, knowing that she was playing the most dangerous game of her life.
“But that homo Peter Small she trusts like a brother. He knows protocols, procedures and secrets that I will never know. You called me a housecat and sometimes I think that’s what Jennifer thinks of me and over time I have become to resent it. When I found out that my father was in fact Dmitriy Tanas Yakovich, I realised that Jennifer had stolen my birthright and that my mother was complicit,” Katerina swallowed the remainder of her drink and poured herself another, filling a second glass with Stoli and taking it over to Grigori who took it from her.
His fingers brushed hers and as he did so she felt something like an electric shock when their flesh touched briefly.
“I know most of Jennifer’s security protocols. I have almost unfettered access to her systems and business methods and resources. I know who and where her lieutenants are at any time. I could kill her easily and take what is mine but I wouldn’t live for long before I was deposed by someone like yourself or Peter Small when he exacted revenge,” Katerina was on a roll, she could see that Grigori was intrigued.
“Anyway I have no experience in such matters. Jennifer has kept me away from what she describes as ‘wet-work’. Even if I deposed her I would soon have it all taken away from me. The High Council would never anoint me,” Katerina sat down beside Grigori.
“But with everything I know and with your resources and credibility, between us we could take everything from her. If you were to attack her Bratva and depose her and take me prisoner and reveal that I am your niece and the true heir to your brother’s Bratva there would be no reprisals. The High Council would not intervene and would likely be amused by the turn of events,” Katerina placed a hand on Grigori’s knee and squeezed it gently.
“You know the fable about the scorpion and the frog?” Katerina asked.
“Of course I know it. It is a famous Russian parable,” Grigori growled.
“Well in my version I am the scorpion not Jennifer and I don’t drown,” Katerina squeezed Grigori’s knee again.
“I know Jennifer’s escape protocols if her dacha was ever to come under attack. And in the unlikely event that she was to escape, you would use me and Katya as bargaining chips to make her surrender,” Katerina smiled evilly.
“You would let me take your mother and use her as a hostage?” Grigori sounded amused.
“She betrayed my father. Jennifer betrayed my father. I want my birthright. I want to be the next Skorpion Suka,” Katerina pressed her advantage.
“And you have this all planned?” Grigori chuckled.
“Down to a tee. It would need to happen this Thanksgiving. We have plenty of time to prepare,” Katerina swallowed her drink.
“I could take you now and torture you. Make you give up your secrets,” Grigori said somewhat dismissively.
“You could. But you wouldn’t see the look on Jennifer’s face when she realised that she had been betrayed by the woman she loves and cherishes. You wouldn’t see the look on Katya’s face when she comprehends that her own daughter is the cause of her demise,” Katerina countered.
“And I would be yours. You install me in place of Jennifer and I run her Bratva on your behalf. I would be your concubine. I am happy to accept that I can never be a Pakhan but I can be the next best thing,” Katerina mover her hand up Grigori’s thigh.
“And there would be other benefits. Wouldn’t you have me willingly share your bed rather than rape me?” Katerina’s fingers found Grigori’s penis, elongated and bloated inside his trousers.
She let go of his turgid member and arose from the couch.
She stood before him. A tall, stunning, slim young woman with jet black hair cut into a severe bob which accentuated her deep blue expressive eyes. She was wearing a fashionable business suit, her pert breasts swelling the smoky-grey satin blouse and her long legs clad in gossamer-sheer nylons extending below her short skirt. Her face was narrow, with accentuated cheekbones, a pointed chin and small nose. Her skin was pale and she wore heavy eye makeup and blood-red lipstick.
Grigori could see a lot of Katya in her but also a suggestion of his brother’s bearing.
“I think I’ll take you up on your second offer while I consider your first,” Grigori’s voice was thick with lust.
He was lightning fast, springing up from the couch, picking up Katerina in his arms and carrying her to the bed where he threw her on the coverlet.
He looked down on her as he quickly disrobed. His body was pale and completely covered by elaborate tattoos from his ankles up to his neck and down to his wrists. His flesh was hard muscle and his cock was long, elongated; almost tubular. The glans was red and wicked-looking, dripping pre-seminal fluid. Katerina could not take her eyes off it.
She started to unbutton her blouse but Grigori slapped her hands away. He leapt on the bed and straddled her, tearing open her blouse, the buttons scattering across the room. He freed her milky-white breasts and fell on them, sucking, licking, nipping and biting Katerina’s nipples as they engorged under his vicious ministrations.
Ripples of pleasure erupted from Katerina’s swollen teats. Jennifer was never rough with her. They playacted sometimes but this brute had begun to ravish her and Katerina felt herself respond exhilaratingly. She moaned as she guided his leonine head from one breast to the other as he nipped and chawed her nipples and bit into her soft flesh.
His cock was pressed against her thighs, rubbing and chafing her skin. Grigori delighted in the feel of his manhood rubbing against her silken-sheathed flesh. He pressed her down into the bed and put his mouth on hers, driving his tongue into her as he rutted against her.
Katerina tried to open her legs and Grigori felt her struggle. He broke the kiss long enough to tear off Katerina’s skirt, revealing her pubis. She was wearing white satin panties over her pantyhose and they too were snatched away. Katerina winced as the fabric dug into her flesh before her panties finally rent free.
Grigori fell on her again and crushed her lips with his. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and Katerina groaned as she felt his full weight on top of her. Her breasts ached where Grigori had assaulted them but the ache was exciting and arousing. Her hips and the tops of her thighs stung as welts blossomed where he had bruised her flesh when he ripped away her panties.
Katerina’s cunt was clammy and aching, the need to feel this brute’s saurian penis inside her overwhelming. She returned his kisses with fervour, raking her nails down his back, opening her legs and wrapping them around his hard body, pulling him to her.
She felt his cock pressing against her vulva, pushing the gauzy, translucent fabric of her pantyhose into her cloying clunge. Grigori's penis broke through the ethereal yarn and slammed into her aching vagina. His cock felt almost squamous and reptilian as it slid into her buttery quim. Her vaginal secretions eased the way for his steely phallus and he drove it all the way inside her. Despite her vaginal fluids easing its path it felt like she was being rent by a phallic spear.
The pain mingled with pleasure causing an excruciating sensory explosion deep in her vagina. His pubis pressed on her clitoris, eliciting sparks of intense pleasure as he drove her into the bed, fucking her hard and fast. She locked her legs around his waist and scissored her nylon-sheathed limbs against his tender flesh. She raked her fingernails down his back, dug her high heels into his sides and nipped his lips, encouraging Grigori to fuck her even harder.
Grigori delighted in the feel of this young woman beneath him. Her breasts pressed against his chest and he could feel that her nipples were engorged. Her cunt clung to his turgid rod, her mucus secretions easing his path as his cock drove in and out of her. She tasted sweet, she smelled wonderful and her legs fretted his flanks, her gossamer nylons eliciting waves of delight.
He felt her begin to shudder and she threw back her head and screamed as her body contorted beneath him as she orgasmed. He felt her vagina pulse and quiver, drawing his essence from him as Grigori erupted deep inside her.
He covered her mouth with his to silence her screams, driving his tongue into her as she clung to him, shaking and mewling like a wounded animal.
Katerina was in orgasmic bliss. She had never felt anything like this animalistic rapture as Grigori ravished her body. Waves of pleasure radiated from her vagina and her clitoris and her breasts as she endured the most intense and almost horrific climax that she ever experienced.
Grigori was not finished with her.
He ripped his still engorged phallus from her wet, sultry maw and rolled her over and dragged Katerina to her knees. He lifted her ass high in the air and slammed his cock back into her sopping hole. He gripped Katerina's hips and fucked her some more, slamming his crotch into her creamy buttocks, watching them jiggle, her pantyhose shimmering as he thrust in and out of her.
She cried out again as another less intense but still delightful climax engulfed her senses. Grigori ejaculated again, pulling out of Katerina’s clutching pink hole, spattering her pantyhose-sheathed buttocks with the last torrents of his spend.
When he was satisfied that he had fully sullied and defiled his pretty young niece he pushed her away from him and Katerina lay panting on the bed, her clothing torn, her nylons in tatters, her lips and breasts bruised and aching and her cunt tender and tingling, Grigori’s creamy issue running from her labia.
He rose from the bed and strode over to bar and poured two large glasses of vodka and came back to the bed to find Katerina lying on her back, her head propped on the pillows. Even with her makeup ruined and her hair dishevelled she looked beautiful, like a ravished captive princess.
He offered Katerina the drink and went to his jacket and took out his cigarettes.
“You can’t smoke in here,” Katerina looked up at Grigori with adoration in her eyes.
“I can do anything I want. Here, take this,” Grigori held out a lighted cigarette and Katerina took it.
The pungent smoke would stink out the room and she would have to pay a very costly penalty on top of the room tariff but what did she care. Money was nothing.
“Tell me more about your plan and then we will see how well you suck cock,” Grigori grinned at Katerina.
Katerina was glad that she had actually gone on a shopping spree before she came to the hotel because her clothes were ruined. But that was of insignificant consequence. She had Grigori intrigued and that was all that mattered.
When Katerina had finished explaining the rest of her plan, Grigori began to poke holes in some of her strategies and countered with ideas that worked better. Katerina knew that she had Grigori hooked when he agreed to go ahead with her proposal.
“I have another parable for you,” Grigori, said when they had finished plotting.
“I ran away from the wolf, straight into a bear. Do you know what that means?” he grinned at her a little wickedly.
“Jennifer is the wolf and you are the bear?” Katerina replied.
“Something like that. Now get your ass on the bed and open your legs. I want to fuck you again before I leave,” Grigori rose to his full height, his massive prong once again fully tumescent.
FBI Safe House, Long Island, New York – The Present
The flight from Balwyn Texas to Long Island MacArthur Airport took a little over four hours in the chartered Lear. During the flight they had gone back and forth over Michelle’s plan, sometimes arguing and sometimes agreeing on the strategy.
They agreed that for their plan to succeed they needed to somehow get Grigori Belinsky to come to a handover using Jennifer as bait. They also agreed that they needed to rescue Katya and Katerina Kuznetsova and Alice Leasingham at the same time. Once Grigori had Jennifer in his clutches he had no incentive to keep them alive.
Grigori had been stupid when he posted the pictures of the three women clinging pathetically to each other with his henchmen in the background looming over them and the video of his mercenaries masturbating over the scorpion tattoos on their ankles. Jennifer Jones had been to Katya’s cottage, which was actually a walled villa in Southold, many times and she recognised it immediately.
This meant that Jennifer, Penelope and Michelle knew where Grigori was holding his captives. The gist of their plan involved Michelle luring Grigori to the handover using Jennifer as the tethered goat while Penelope lay in wait.
Michelle took a nap and Penelope crossed the aisle and sidled into the seat next to Jennifer.
“There is one issue that we haven’t discussed but I’m sure that you have thought long and hard about,” Penelope put her hand on Jennifer's knee.
Jennifer turned to face Penelope and looked at her quizzically even though she knew what Penelope was going to say.
“You said it yourself. Someone very close to you betrayed you. Grigori Belinsky attacked you on all fronts. He attacked your dacha, he physically attacked some of your business strongholds and he cyber-attacked your business operations. Someone with intimate knowledge of these things passed him information,” Penelope looked into Jennifer’s eyes searching for a response.
There was none.
“He knew about your escape plan. You told us that he had a hit squad waiting for you when you came out of the garage. Only Peter Small and Katerina Kuznetsova knew about that and Peter died trying to defend you,” Penelope took Jennifer’s small but lethal hand in hers.
“She wouldn’t betray me. You’ve seen the pictures and the video. You know what Grigori is doing to her. Grigori has her mother. Knowing Katerina, she is offering herself to Grigori to keep him away from Katya and Alice. It can’t be her,” Jennifer’s eyes were cold, emotionless and steadfast.
Penelope knew better than to get into an argument with Jennifer so she changed the subject.
“I’ve ruined another relationship,” Penelope sighed.
Jennifer squeezed her hand.
“Jaylene and I are over. We both know it but were going through the motions. I’ll set her free when I get back to Balwyn. Jaylene needs to be in New York or LA where she can blossom, not stuck in a bumfuck city like Balwyn with a fat old tranny with a drinking problem who is close to being a washed up cop,” a single tear ran down Penelope’s cheek.
“You are not a fat old tranny. You are beautiful. I’ve known you a long time. I’ve befriended you and I know that I have betrayed that friendship more than once but I’ve always respected and admired you,” Jennifer wiped away Penelope’s tear with her fingertip.
“You know that right? I’m in the most desperate place that I have ever been in my life and who did I turn to? You: Penelope Bishop,” Jennifer leaned over the armrest and kissed Jennifer full on the mouth.
“You want me to move down the back of the plane so you two can fuck?” Michelle Dupree was awake and watching Penelope and Jennifer intently.
“Shut up granny,” Penelope smiled at Michelle.
“Pot, pot darling,” Michelle smiled back.
The pitch of the engines changed suddenly as the aircraft began to descend.
The Lear was marshalled to a quiet corner of Long Island MacArthur Airport when it landed. The pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit.
“Ten minutes ladies, then I’m outta here,” he said gruffly and closed the door.
The three women gathered their carryon baggage and made their way down the stairs and saw a black Transit van with heavily tinted windows parked on the apron next to the plane. A man in a dark suit had already unlocked the aircraft hold and was piling up their luggage on the tarmac beside the van.
“You ladies going to give me hand or are you just going to pose on the stairs like fashion models,” the man called gruffly.
He was tall, thin and had sandy collar-length hair.
Michelle, Jennifer and Penelope were hardly dressed as fashion models; they had all worn leggings or yoga pants, sensible shoes and comfortable jackets for the flight. Of course they had brushed their hair and touched up their makeup during the decent.
They looked at each other, shrugged and went to help the man unload the Lear and load up the van. Besides a single suitcase each, they had also brought a small arsenal of weaponry with them. Jennifer had brought a cache of weapons from her safe house, Penelope had helped herself to an assortment of ordnance from the Balwyn PD armoury and Michelle had her own munitions in the trunk of her car that they had retrieved from parking lot behind The Longhorn Saloon.
They were in enemy territory and had come prepared for war.
The man still hadn't introduced himself when the three women climbed into the van, Michelle sitting up front Penelope and Jennifer and sitting in comfortable seats in the rear. There was little talk as the Lear’s engines began to roar as it taxied away from the apron. The man started the van and drove to a gate in a remote corner of the airport where it was ushered through by a security guard who locked that gate behind the van.
“I’m Special Agent Jack Oliver with the FBI. Special Agent Dan Murphy of the Texas Department of Public Safety Criminal Investigation Division sends his regards. I owe Dan a favour or three so I’m doing this off the books so to speak,” the man finally spoke a full sentence.
“This is an unsanctioned operation and I’m here only to provide transport, a safe house and limited intel. I don’t work for you and I will not be involved in any conflagration or dog-fight that you ladies find yourself in,” Jack continued.
“Think of me as liaison,” Jack turned to Michelle and smiled.
Jack was wearing Raybans and Michelle couldn’t see his eyes but his face was handsome in that chilled way that some thin-faced men have. His age was indeterminate but he had fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes on his otherwise unblemished face that indicated he was likely in his late forties, possibly even early fifties.
He turned to face the women in the rear seats.
“Pleased to meet you Penelope Bishop. I looked you up. You have quite an impressive record with the Balwyn PD. I'm surprised you never joined the Staties or the even the FBI,” Jack quipped.
“I had a torrid relationship with a Feeb. That's as close to the FBI that I ever wanted to get,” Penelope quipped back.
“And Miz Jennifer Jones. Your reputation also precedes you. But not for the same reasons as Miz Bishop of course. You have managed to stay off our Most Wanted list but only because we can never seem to pin anything on you even though our organised crime guys are certain that you are the face behind the Russian Mob on the west coast,” Jack smiled at Jennifer in the rear vision mirror but Jennifer remained stoic.
“As for you Miz Dupree, you are an enigma. I can’t find anything about you. A woman with the same name as you was a showgirl in Las Vegas. She died in a shootout in 1985 at the Ambassador Hotel and Casino along with an FBI agent named Liam Dresser who was chasing after a suspected Soviet sleeper agent,” Jack turned sideways to look at Michelle.
Michelle just shrugged and smiled.
Whoever Jack Oliver was, he was intelligent and had done his research.
“You ladies aren’t much for talking are you,” Jack turned his eyes back to the road.
“So you girls… are you all… you know…” Jack left the question hanging but the women knew what he was implying.
After an uncomfortable silence, Michelle spoke up.
“Are we all what? Left handed? Capricorns? With Verizon?” she jibed.
“Sorry I asked. Probably none of my business,” Jack apologised.
Penelope and Jennifer just cleared their throats.
“Maybe you’ll find out if you're lucky,” Michelle said a little sarcastically and Jennifer leaned forward in her seat.
“Why don’t you just hand him your panties,” Jennifer whispered tersely in Michelle’s ear.
“I’m not wearing any; besides he’s cute,” Michelle whispered back.
The van turned into a walled estate. Jack Oliver activated a remote on the dash to open and close the formidable looking gates.
“The gates, walls, grounds and house are alarmed and fitted with motion detectors. I’ll show you the security system when I get you inside. I don’t want any trouble here. Consider the safe house your headquarters for want of a better word,” Jack said as he pulled up in the forecourt.
Two black BMW SUVs were parked in the parking court at the side of the house and Jack pointed to them when they alighted from the van.
“They are for your exclusive use. Nothing fancy, just rentals leased under fictitious names. The place is well-stocked with provisions and has a secure wifi network. There is no maid service here ladies so you’ll have to make do with looking after yourselves,” Jack quibbled as he began unloading the van.
“Do we look like we’re used to maid service?” Penelope said.
“You don’t. The other two look a little entitled,” Jack waved his hand in the direction of Jennifer and Michelle.
“I’ll take the compliment,” Penelope poked her tongue out at Michelle.
“Our girlfriend is a hokey country girl and Jennifer and I just have more class,” Michelle continued her banter with Jack.
“That may be but I like my women with a little padding on their fannies; makes for a comfortable ride,” Jack continued to unload the van as he sparred with Michelle.
“Can you two wrap up the courtship repartee and get all this gear inside so we can get down to business,” Jennifer growled.
“She’s the serious one I take it. It’s always the short young pretty ones who have the attitude,” Jack grunted as he hefted a carrybag full of longarms.
“Her red hair should be a giveaway,” Michelle couldn’t help getting in the last word.
The women got down to business and carried the suitcases, carryon luggage and the small arsenal into the house.
“Four bedrooms upstairs; take your pick. Obviously one of them is mine. Kitchen-diner, family room, formal lounge room and a study down here on the ground floor,” Jack pointed out the obvious.
The women unloaded the weapons first and laid them out in the study, loading three of the automatic rifles and placed them strategically around the ground floor, then they checked their personal handguns. Jack Oliver looked on somewhat amused as they did so. He observed that all three were proficient with the weapons they handled.
They each lugged a suitcase upstairs and rock-paper-scissored to see who got the room with the ensuite bathroom. Michelle won leaving Penelope and Jennifer with two rooms that shared a bathroom. Jack’s room also had an ensuite but that was to be expected.
Michelle had put her suitcase on the bed and was unpacking when she felt a presence behind her. Jack Oliver was checking out her shapely ass and long legs which were clad in black Lorna Jane leggings. Michelle had removed her jacket and was wearing a plum coloured Lorna Jayne long-sleeved, body-shaping top and when she turned to face him he got a view of her impressive rack. He admired her wide hips, narrow shoulders and slim waist. She had a dancer’s legs and body and obviously kept herself in shape.
“You get a good look at my ass or are you just curious?” Michelle smiled wickedly.
Jack was able to fully appreciate Michelle’s beauty. All three of the women were good looking but there was something about Michelle that fascinated him. She was clearly the oldest of the three but she had a certain charm, grace and elegance that came with her maturity. It was somewhat amazing that all three of the women had striking glacial-green eyes although he had noticed that Jennifer featured a blueish heterochromia in her left iris. His job was to be observant and he didn’t miss much. Michelle’s eyes were enhanced by heavy black eyeliner and mascara and earthy eyeshadow: her skin was alabaster white, her lips full, red and pouty, her pretty face framed by a perfectly coiffed burgundy bob.
“If I’m going to be honest with you, it’s a bit of both. I did appreciate your derriere but I’m curious about the front, if I may be so bold,” Jack was blushing for the first time since Michelle had met him.
“What?” Michelle was genuinely bamboozled.
“Well that! How do you do that?” Jack pointed to the Vee between Michelle’s legs.
“Oh that? Well close the door and come here and I’ll show you,” she gave him an amused grin.
Jack closed the door and stepped a little closer to Michelle. He could smell her perfume and see the rise and fall of her chest.
“Closer…” Michelle teased and gave a devilish smile.
Jack stepped closer until he was inches from Michelle and he could feel his heart beating faster and his breathing became irregular.
Michelle snatched his hand and placed it on her pubis startling Jack with her audacity. His natural reaction was to snatch his hand away but Michelle held it there against the lycra Vee between her legs.
“What does it feel like?” she whispered.
“It sort of feels a little like when I touch a woman down there,” Jack did not remove his hand.
“It’s called a tuck honey and it flattens the space between my legs creating a shape that I, and most men, find aesthetically pleasing,” Michelle did not remove Jack’s fingers from her crotch.
“Here, feel between my legs. Run your fingers along my perineum,” Michelle guided Jack’s fingers between her legs.
“Your what?” Jack was blushing and his heart was racing even faster.
“My taint darling. Feel it?” she rubbed Jack’s fingers along her tights between her legs.
“Oh!” Jack exclaimed.
He felt something akin to a fleshy tube encased in the sleek fabric between Michelle’s legs and he was sure he felt it move a little. Her tights glided along her pantyhose delightfully when he rubbed her there.
“I don’t wear panties under leggings or yoga pants because they spoil the aesthetic. You know; VPL. I wear pantyhose instead because they look and feel great and help hold my tuck,” Michelle was grinning because she could feel Jack unconsciously stroking her cock between her legs.
“I like pantyhose,” Jack swallowed.
Michelle could see by the bulge in his pants that he was becoming aroused.
She leaned in and kissed him full on the lips and Jack gasped at the impression of her full, pouty mouth on his. She placed the flat of her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away. Just as she did so she heard Jennifer call through the door.
“Come on Michelle, let’s get busy,” Jennifer hollered.
“I was kinda getting busy here,” Michelle whispered into Jack’s ear, nipped at his earlobe and chuckled softly.
“Coming,” Michelle called through the door and grinned at Jack whose turn it was to look bamboozled.
Michelle stepped around Jack and opened the door.
“You coming sugar?” Michelle smiled sweetly at him, keeping the door wide open.
Jack just nodded and followed her out onto the landing, unconsciously trying to hide his erection.
They all met in the lounge, drinking coffee, tapping on keyboards, staring at screens and then finally Michelle addressed the room.
“I have my message ready to send to Grigori. The gist of it is that I’ve located Jennifer and am holding her at an undisclosed location and that Jennifer realises that she has lost and is willing to cooperate if I demand that Grigori free Katya, Katerina and Alice as part of the settlement,” Michelle said.
“I’m going to ask for three million dollars and for the handover to take place at a neutral locus where neither side will have a tactical advantage,” Michelle stated.
Penelope interjected.
“Jack, you will need you to find us a rendezvous out in the open where I can camouflage myself in a sniper’s nest nearby. The nest needs to be no further away than five, maybe six hundred meters from the handover point at the most and elevated,” Penelope tapped a fingernail on her teeth.
“You can take out a target at hundred meters?” Jack sounded a little sceptical.
Penelope just glared at him.
“I told you that I’m just liaison and transport,” Jack countered.
“Aw Jack, are you really going to let three vulnerable women take on Grigori and his henchman on our own?” Michelle squeezed Jack’s knee.
Jack brushed her had away.
“Vulnerable women? Any one of you could probably kill me before I even realised I was in danger,” Jack grumbled.
“Grigori will insist on bringing a security detail. He won’t go one on one with Michelle, even with the three women hostages as bargaining chips,” Jennifer interposed.
“He knows that the last time that happened, Dmitriy Yakovich and Alexi Reznik both ended up dead,” she continued.
“I’ll need somewhere to practice with my rifle and scope too. I might be a little rusty,” Penelope added.
Both Jennifer and Michelle glared at her astoundingly.
“A little fucking rusty? My ass depends on you making the shot,” Jennifer sounded horrified.
“Nah. It’s like riding a bike. Give me an hour on the range and I’ll be able to take out a quarter at five hundred meters,” Penelope said confidently.
“Send the message Michelle. Let’s commit to this thing before we get cold feet,” Jennifer said, finality evident in her tone.
“Err, one thing Jennifer. I’m going to need to send Grigori a picture of you trussed up. I’ll manipulate the metadata so he knows the picture is recent but won’t be able to tell where it was taken. We can take it in your room dressed as you are, you look a little shabby after a long day and a four hour flight,” Michelle grinned at her.
“Shabby?” Jennifer sounded wounded but she knew that Michelle was right.
“We all look a little shabby. May I propose we all get cleaned up, change into some nice clothes and enjoy a pleasant evening together? After tonight there will be no time to relax until after we’re done,” Penelope proposed and they all nodded in agreement.
Michelle and Jennifer retired to Jennifer’s room and Michelle took pictures of Jennifer trussed up and tied to a chair looking defeated.
They all showered and changed and went downstairs, meeting in the kitchen-diner for drinks. While the others sipped cocktails Penelope investigated the refrigerator and pantry.
“Ok, as the only Texican among us I’m cooking the steaks. Jennifer will help me in the kitchen and Michelle will be in charge of the table setting and drinks,” Penelope declared having completed her inventory.
“Who put you in charge of food?” Jennifer jibed, but the banter was playful.
“Looking at that ass, Penelope is always in charge of food,” Michelle couldn’t help joining in the repartee.
“You just wish you had my ass, granny. Rumour has it that your ass has had more pricks in it that a second-hand dartboard,” Penelope retorted.
“Touché,” Michelle acknowledged that Penelope had won the verbal catfight.
Penelope took charge in the kitchen with Jennifer helping her. Michelle searched the cupboards for flatware and cutlery.
“Hey, Jackie-boy. Don’t think you’re getting waited on. Pour us all another drink and check the perimeter and activate the security system. If you’re lucky I might show more of my secrets,” Michelle said to Jack who blushed and went to do as he was told.
Jack had to admit that his initial prejudice about these women was wrong. He watched them as they went about their tasks. They were all beautiful and exuded elegance, poise and grace. They were wearing fashionable dresses, nylons and heels and their hair and makeup were perfect. They weren’t the freaks that he had imagined that they would be when he had reluctantly accepted the task. They were also professional, intelligent and calculating. He decided that together they were a formidable team.
His eyes kept being drawn to Michelle: the sway of her hips, the way her dress flickered around her thighs, her rounded ass, her ample bosom. Just listening to her southern drawl was a delight.
Also, he kept thinking about this afternoon, alone in the room with her, his hand between her legs. He shook his head and concentrated on the task at hand.
In the kitchen Penelope and Jennifer were busy prepping dinner.
“Have you given any thought to what we discussed on the plane,” Penelope finally got the gumption to bring up the subject of Katerina again.
Jennifer turned on Penelope and pressed her against the refrigerator, her face a mask of consternation.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Jennifer hissed.
Despite the fact that Penelope was taller than Jennifer and outweighed her considerably, in that moment Jennifer was the superior adversary.
“I’m sorry honey. Look, we have had a long, fractured and tumultuous relationship but I care for you. I’m flattered that in your direst straits you came to me for help. I don’t want to see you hurt any more than you have been,” Penelope admitted.
“I’ll just shut up about it and we can enjoy our evening together,” Penelope tried to smile.
The anger in Jennifer’s eyes dissipated and was replaced by something else. She stood on her tippytoes and kissed Penelope softly on the lips. Penelope was at first surprised and then she returned the kiss but the clatter of plates being dropped on the dining table nearby bought them both out of their brief reverie.
Jennifer stepped back and cleared her throat nervously.
“Those steaks won’t cook themselves Texican,” Jennifer said coolly, smacking Penelope playfully on the ass.
Penelope also cleared her throat and went about her gastronomical duties.
Jennifer brought out salads and placed them on the dining table where she was intercepted by Jack Oliver.
“Look I know that you and Penelope have a thing going on but is Michelle currently… how do I say this? Is she in a relationship?” he whispered, a little embarrassed to be asking.
“What do you mean me and Penelope have a thing?” Jennifer breathed, a little angrily.
“Come on. I’ve only known you girls for one day but I see the way she looks at you,” Jack tried his best to cover his faux pas.
“We are what some idiots refer to as ‘frenemies’. It’s a long and complicated relationship but we don’t have a thing. As for Michelle, she’s as much a mystery to me as she is to you,” Jennifer replied nonchalantly.
“Hey, you're not sweet on her are you? You know she is one of us Capricorns too,” Jennifer tried to make light of the conversation.
“I better get the wine,” Jack swallowed and blushed a little and Jennifer smiled to herself.
They ate steaks, grilled Portobello mushrooms, baked potatoes, salads and all the fixings and drank three bottles of good Australian Shiraz, except for Penelope of course who made do with Diet Coke. The dinner conversation was mostly playful banter and war stories, sometimes embellished to make them more interesting.
“So what about you, Special Agent Jack Oliver? You don’t look like a typical FBI agent with that flashy haircut and half-decent suit?” Michelle asked.
“For most of my career I was a field agent. Spent some time undercover, did some joint taskforce stuff around the Mexican border and then they put me out to pasture working intelligence and research. Over the hill for field work I guess they thought. When I was in the field, Dan Murphy and I did a few operations together down at the border. He got me out of a few scrapes. That’s why he came to me when you ladies needed assistance,” Jack said a lot by saying a little.
“So how unsanctioned is this operation?” Penelope asked.
“Well…” Jack began to reply when Penelope interrupted.
“You went rogue, didn’t you Jack?” she said triumphantly.
“Maybe,” Jack gave them a boyish grin.
“Am I right in guessing that you have also ‘gone rogue’ as you so eloquently put it. I went rogue as a favour to Dan Murphy and you went rogue to help out Jennifer. You must really have some affection for this little lady given what you are doing,” Jack countered and Penelope blushed.
“And you must really owe Dan Murphy some big favours. But never mind the bollocks, as the Sex Pistols so eloquently put it,” Michelle interjected.
“Do you have a little lady somewhere? Maybe a law enforcement type who packs a big gun in her tailored skirt?” Michelle teased.
“Divorced. Seems us law enforcement types often became attracted to each other but for some reason find it hard to stick it out for the full ride,” Jack sighed and Penelope nodded in agreement.
The banter continued into the night. Talk of the upcoming rendezvous with Grigori Belinsky was shelved. From tomorrow onwards it would be all business. This was their last night of freedom so to speak.
When the table was cleared and the dishes in the dishwasher they went out onto the patio and drank liqueurs and smoked. Jack produced a cigarillo and made a production of lighting it up and the girls all teased him jocularly for doing so. Over dinner a bond had formed that would hold them in good stead and they went to bed with full bellies and a little lightheaded from the wine.
Bathroom sounds filled the top floor until everyone had finished their ablutions and finally the lights went out and silence ensued.
Jack was drifting off when he heard his bedroom door open and the soft patter of feet on the floorboards, pre-empted by a miasma of perfume. If he had not smelled the perfume his first instinct would be to reach for his gun.
He felt the covers being pulled back and then a warm soft body climbed into bed beside him.
“Hey…” Jack was about to say something but Michelle pressed her lips on his to silence him.
“Just say no if this isn’t what you want,” Michelle whispered.
Jack enfolded Michelle in in arms and held her close and kissed her. His hard cock pressing against Michelle’s belly told her that it was exactly what he wanted. His cock didn’t rub against bare flesh; it rubbed against the gauzy sheer fabric of her pantyhose.
“Wow! That feels amazing,” Jack gasped.
“Well you told me that you liked pantyhose so I wore them for you,” Michelle, reached down and took his cock in her hand and rubbed it on her belly.
Jack could feel Michelle’s breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples were hard and he longed to touch them.
“Is that all you're wearing… just pantyhose?” Jack swallowed.
“I dropped my negligée on the floor before I hopped into bed silly. I can’t walk around the house naked,” Michelle squeezed his cock whimsically to make her point.
They kissed again, their lips crushed together, their tongues intertwined, their breathing ragged as their lust for each other grew. Jack had almost forgotten that Michelle was a transwoman until he felt her cock harden inside her pantyhose and then he realised that his cock was rubbing against hers with only the flimsy nylon between their turgid phalluses.
It surprised him a little that he wasn’t repulsed but hadn't he been thinking about Michelle all day, ever since the incident in her bedroom. He knew then and there that she had a cock and yet he still he pursued her. He was subconsciously glad that it wasn’t an issue for him; in fact it made him desire her even more. This woman was not only beautiful and intelligent she was exotically different.
Jack finally broke the long languid kiss and pushed Michelle down on the bed. He kissed the side of her mouth, then her cheek, then he nibbled her earlobe, then he dragged his tongue slowly down her neck, licking the notch in the top of her sternum before proceeding down to her left breast.
Michelle shuddered and groaned as Jack teased her. She entwined her fingers in his hair and tried to force his mouth to her nipple but he refused to succumb and he circled her areola with his tongue then he moved onto her right breast.
“Oh, you fucker!” Michelle bucked and writhed on the bed.
Jack pressed his body against hers to keep her still, grinding his cock against her pantyhose enshrouded penis, delighting in the sensation. Only then did he take her teat in his mouth and suckle it and Michelle let out a moan of contentment as ripples of pleasure radiated from her breast. Her left breast received the same treatment and Michelle let him tongue, lap and gently bite her nipples. She let him grind his cock against hers until she was ready to be fucked.
She ripped his head away from her chest and brought his face to hers and smashed her mouth against his. She locked her gossamer-sheathed limbs around his flanks and guided his cock between her buttocks.
A moment of panic swept over Jack and Michelle sensed it. She knew that it was his first time with a transwoman and possibly had never had anal sex before.
“I’m clean, lubed and ready to go,” she whispered in his ear, putting any reservations Jack may have had to bed.
“Just fuck it like a pussy,” Michelle giggled and snagged a nail in her pantyhose, making a small hole near her sphincter.
Jack pushed his cock through the hole and his glans nestled in Michelle’s tight puckered bud.
He pushed and was rewarded with the most sensational feeling he had ever felt as his cock slipped past her snug opening into a tight spongy tunnel that seemed to knead his steely manhood as it slid all the way inside her. His scrotum pressed against her pantyhose-sheathed buttocks, her sphincter clamped tight around the base of his cock. Jack was too scared to move unless he came right there.
Michelle grazed her nylon-shrouded legs against Jack’s flanks and he shivered at the sensation of her silken-shrouded limbs rubbing against his flesh.
“You like?” Michelle smiled up at him.
“I love,” Jack whispered and began to withdraw his penis, watching Michelle’s face light up with delight.
When he had extracted his cock all the way he pushed it into her again and Michelle sighed and rubbed her legs against him a little faster, encouraging Jack to fuck her.
He did.
He began to fuck her with long languid strokes, feeling her anus cling to his cock, reluctant to let it go, then envelop his manhood in her cushy rectum as he thrust it back into her. He could feel her cock pressing against his belly, her precum smearing on his muscled abdomen as her bloated penis throbbed in anticipation of release.
Jack kissed her, driving his tongue into her sweet mouth as he drove his cock deep inside her and ejaculated, his orgasm washing over him like a sensual tidal wave. He shook and shivered with the intensity of it and felt Michelle quiver underneath him. Then he felt the warm, viscous wetness of her spend on his belly and he realised that she had climaxed too.
Michelle felt Jack’s glans pressing on her prostate as he drove his cock all the way inside her. She felt ringlets of pleasure radiate from her stretched sphincter as it encircled the base of his thick cock. She felt his lips pressing on hers needily, his tongue fluttering in her mouth, his body pressing against hers, his belly flexing against her hard cock, enshrouded by her pantyhose.
She was in sensory overload as she climaxed, holding Jack tight, kissing him deeply, scissoring her legs against him, her feet locked behind his back, as she arched her back to meet his final thrust.
“Wow! That was amazing!” Jack whispered, not wanting to wake the others sleeping on the same floor.
His cock was till buried deep inside Michelle’s tight hole, quivering now and then as the last of juices flowed out of him.
“Pretty good huh?” Michelle smiled up at him and he was overcome with how beautiful her face was lit by the moonlight streaming through the window.
“Stay inside me. Let’s do it again when you’re ready,” Michelle stoked his back with her fingertips.
Jack was ready sooner than either of them thought possible and then they went at it again until they were exhausted and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Neither of them had used the word ‘love’ but something special had begun to blossom between them. It wasn’t just the sex. They felt an attraction that transcended the physical.
Across the hallway Jennifer couldn’t sleep. The door that connected the bathroom that she shared with Penelope opened and Jennifer sensed Penelope enter her room.
“If you have come to talk more to me about Katerina forget it,” Jennifer whispered in the dark.
“I didn’t come for that. I know that you don’t want to talk about that. I just wanted to make sure that there is nothing between us; that we still trust each other,” Penelope whispered back.
“You said it yourself. I came to you in my direst straits. At the handover my life will be in your hands. That’s how much I trust you,” Jennifer replied.
“Ok then,” Penelope turned to leave and was closing the door when Jennifer spoke.
“Don’t go. I can’t sleep,” Jennifer whispered.
Penelope heard Jennifer pull back the covers and Penelope closed the interconnecting door and stole across the room to Jennifer's bed.
“I don’t want sex, I want company and comfort,” Jennifer said as Penelope climbed into the bed.
Jennifer was wearing satin babydoll pyjamas and Penelope was wearing a simple black rayon shift and nylon granny panties.
Jennifer snuggled into Penelope’s embrace and Penelope coddled her, smelling the shampoo in Jennifer’s hair and a hint of Dior Poison which was also her favourite perfume. Jennifer fit into Penelope’s body perfectly.
“You're probably right about Katerina but I still don’t wanna talk about it,” Jennifer sighed.
“Then don’t. Just lie here in my arms until you fall asleep,” Penelope kissed the top of Jennifer’s head and squeezed her softly.
“Also, I lied about the sex,” Jennifer said languidly.
Katya Kuznetsova’s cottage, Southold, Long Island
“Get upstairs now!” Grigori burst into the kitchen where Katya, Alice and Katerina were huddled together drinking coffee.
His finger was pointing at Katerina Kuznetsova.
“No! Not again! Haven't you dishonoured my daughter enough already?” Katya pleaded.
“Take me! Take me!” she begged.
“Shut up you tunnel-cunted whoremonger,” Grigori yelled at Katya.
“Don’t worry mother. I’ll go willingly. His pizzle is so small that it hardly hurts at all. Like a mouse fucking a gazelle,” Katerina stood and strode towards Grigori with all the dignity she could muster.
Whilst heartbroken that her daughter was once again going to be ravished by that hellish man, she was proud that her daughter was standing up to him and displaying grace and decorum.
Grigori winced at the slur about his pizzle and he hesitated when Katerina strode past him towards the stairs.
“Well if you are so keen to be taken Katya, I can make it so,” Grigori grinned at her.
“Uri, Ivan, you can have Katya for an hour. Do with her as you wish but don’t leave any visible marks on her face. She has just become even more valuable to me,” Grigori gloated.
“You! Get your ass upstairs,” Grigori pushed Katerina ahead of him.
In the bedroom upstairs Grigori turned on Katerina.
“Don’t you ever insult me like that again in public!” he raised his hand and Katerina backed away from him.
“I was only playing a part, my love. I only said it so that my mother and Alice will think that I despise you and I am still loyal to Jennifer,” Katerina whined.
“And now your mother is being spit roasted in the bedroom down the hallway because I had to respond accordingly,” Grigori said dryly.
“Nothing she hasn’t endured in the past,” Katerina said flippantly.
“You really are a cold bitch aren’t you,” Grigori sniggered.
“She’s as much to blame as Jennifer for the death of my father. Now do you have news?” Katerina sidled up to Grigori.
“The specialist I engaged has come through. She has located Jennifer and has her in custody and is willing to trade,” Grigori held up his phone and showed Katerina the picture of Jennifer trussed and tied to a chair.
“Excellent. But you said she and why is she willing to trade? Didn’t you offer the specialist a flat fee on delivery?” Katerina sounded a little miffed.
“The specialist is a woman of many talents. It is of no consequence to you that she is female; well that is to say that she is as much female as your former boss. I already told you about her,” Grigori smirked.
“She has upped the payment to three million dollars which I fully expected. What is surprising is that she has also asked that I release you, Katya and Alice into her custody,” Grigori added.
“No!” Katerina yelped.
“It’s a smart move by her. The High Council will hear of it and it will stand her in good stead. I will have Jennifer and her Bratva. To keep you, Katya and Alice after I get what I have demanded might seem churlish to them,” Grigori posed.
“No! The other Pakhan’s will think you weak,” Katerina countered.
Grigori’s face clouded and Katerina realised that she had gone too far.
“She’s not getting anything you stupid bitch. Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve insisted on knowing where the rendezvous is to take place well ahead of time and I’ll place it under surveillance to make sure there are no surprises,” Grigori mused.
“I’ll come with an armed escort and after I have Jennifer, Miz Dupree will be disposed of and I’ll take back my money and my women. You will help me run Jennifer’s Bratva, Katya will remain my slave and Alice Leasingham will be released with the understanding that unless she tells my version of truth, her lover, your mother, will suffer,” an evil grin grew on Grigori's lips.
“Jennifer will suffer unimaginable indignities and you, my love, will witness it all,” Grigori closed on Katerina and put his hand to her cheek and stroked it.
“But you need to keep your place. I will not have you questioning my tactics and you will keep your mouth shut in my presence when we are in public. No more pizzle jokes,” his hand flew to her neck and squeezed.
“Do you understand!” Grigori squeezed harder and Katerina nodded as best she could.
“Do you understand!” Grigori pressed his fingers into her flesh and Katerina nodded vigorously as her body began to shake from the lack of oxygen.
Grigori released her and spun her around and bent her over. Katerina put out her hands and hung onto the dressing table as Grigori, lifted her skirt, tore off her panties and ripped open her pantyhose.
His saurian penis speared her and Katerina screamed. She was unlubricated and it felt like her cunt was being ripped open by a scaly barbed lance. But her screams soon turned to moans as her vagina flooded with her juices. She pressed back against Grigori as he violated her, her orgasm erupting when she felt him drive himself deep in her womb and fill her with his scalding issue.
Katerina was wiping her bruised quim with her tattered panties while Grigori smoked a cigarette. He spoke to her now with affection.
“We will have everything we want within a day or two Katerina. Just keep playing your role,” Grigori crushed out his cigarette.
“Sounds like your mother is getting what she deserves,” Grigori smiled wickedly at the sounds coming from the room down the hall.
Katerina came downstairs to find Alice Leasingham sobbing uncontrollably. She’d had to watch helplessly while Katya was marched upstairs by Uri and Ivan. What followed could only be deduced by the sounds filtering down from the upstairs bedroom: the door slamming shut, Katya trying to fight off Uri and Ivan and her cries and screams as she did so, the banging of the headboard against the wall, Uri and Ivan laughing and grunting, Katya bawling, wailing and pleading for them to stop.
But what had horrified Alice the most was that after a while Katya’s caterwauling stopped and instead became guttural moans and grunts and sighs. These sounds accompanied by the rhythmic banging of the headboard and squeak of bedsprings.
Alice and Katya had been lesbian lovers for so long that Alice had almost forgotten that Katya was heterosexually promiscuous before they became a couple. Had Katya simply stopped fighting and surrendered or was she actually enjoying being fucked by those two ruffians? Did Katya miss having a dick inside her? Was her partner right now encouraging them to fuck her, gladly sucking their cocks, orgasming right along with them?
These thoughts were more tortuous even than thinking about Katya being held down and taken against her will.
Katerina sat down beside Alice and they held each other and cried, trying to drown out the sex noises coming from upstairs. Alice because it was breaking her heart and Katerina because she wished her mother was still screaming with pain and indignity.
FBI Safe House, Long Island, New York – The Present
“He’s taken the bait. He demands that I give him the rendezvous coordinates at least twenty four hours before the trade,” Michelle beamed.
“You can’t practice with your rifle there obviously but I know of a disused quarry where you can sight in your scope,” Jack said to Penelope.
“I’ll sight in my rifle and take some target practice this morning at the quarry, then I’ll get to the rendezvous and find a suitable nest, camouflage myself and settle in,” Penelope sounded more confident the she felt.
“How many men is he insisting on bringing with him?” Jennifer asked.
“Five,” Michelle swallowed.
“But he’s agreed to trade the hostages,” she added eagerly.
“Of course he has. He has no intention of handing them over or letting you keep the money. Penelope, you better make sure you take out Grigori with your first shot, because once the shooting starts it will be two against five,” Jennifer said coldly.
“It would be better if we had two snipers,” Michelle added looking at Jack.
“I’m sorry ladies I can’t get involved in a firefight between rival criminal gangs. I’m doing everything else I can for you,” Jack said apologetically.
“Ok. This is it. We all know the plan. Penelope you go to the rendezvous straight after you leave the quarry. Once you are nested up let Michelle know and she will send Grigori the coordinates. Jack, you can drop me and Michelle off at the rendezvous and stay clear until the handover is complete one way or the other. Even if we are successful we will probably need medical help, we are too outnumbered. If you hear nothing then we have failed and you can clean up here and go back to the FBI,” Jennifer said.
She followed Penelope out to one of the SUVs where the longarms were already loaded in the back.
“Good luck Penny, break a leg,” Jennifer kissed Penelope quickly on the lips and then turned away and went back inside the safe house.
Jennifer knew Penelope hated being called Penny… except by those who she was very close to.
“Thanks for everything,” Michelle caught Jack by shoulder as he was about to leave.
“You can thank me properly tonight when I come back from dropping off Penelope,” Jack smiled at her.
“Maybe?” she leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek and pushed him away.
*****
Penelope used twelve rounds to sight in her scope and then began to practice on the targets that she and Jack had put up in the quarry. Jack watched on through a spotting scope and helped Penelope adjust her aim.
Then Penelope began to practice taking out the targets in quick succession. After ten attempts the best she could do was three definite hits in eight seconds, moving from target to target after the initial kill shot.
“That’s the best I can do,” Penelope sighed.
“I have to take out Grigori with my first shot and I’m sure I can do that but shifting target and firing at this distance is difficult. Michelle will use her pistol once I take out Grigori but Jennifer will be unarmed and tied to the chair and Michelle will have to protect her while she tries to take out some of Grigori’s mercenaries at close range while I try to take out as many as possible from the nest,” Penelope sounded a little frazzled.
“You need a second sniper,” Jack said.
“Yep,” Penelope opened a canteen and sipped water.
“I saw another sniper rifle in the SUV. Do you have another set of cammo gear?” Jack asked.
“I have two of everything. I was girl scout, ‘Be Prepared’, remember,” Penelope replied.
“I’ll get the other rifle while you replace the targets. Let’s see what the two of us can do,” Jack patted Penelope on the shoulder.
“So Jack, you really aren’t going to let three vulnerable women take on Grigori and his henchman on our own,” Penelope tried to imitate Michelle Dupree’s southern drawl as best she could.
“Fuck you Lieutenant Bishop,” Jack grinned at her and headed over to the SUV.
“Better not. Michelle Dupree might get jealous,” Penelope called after him.
Rendezvous Point – Long Island, New York
“Fucking drones!” Jack whispered to Penelope.
They were about one meter apart, lying on a ridge five hundred meters from the rendezvous point. They were both wearing Ghillie suits. They had found their nest and were waiting patiently for Grigori’s surveillance team to check out the designated rendezvous.
“He’s got guys on foot checking the actual handover point too,” Penelope was looking through the spotting scope, which she had poked through a small hole in the camouflage netting covering them.
“Let’s just hunker down and lie still until they leave. He can keep those fucking drones flying right up until the designated handover time so we might as well try to get some sleep,” Jack whispered.
Michelle and Jennifer were elated when Jack called and told them he had good news and bad news. The good news was that he was joining Penelope in the sniper’s nest. The bad news was that Michelle would now have to drive herself and Jennifer to the rendezvous.
“There is no bad news,” Michelle smiled.
Michelle and Jennifer ate a decent dinner and slept in comfortable beds while Penelope and Jack ate dry rations, drank water and pissed into bottles whilst lying on the bare ground in their snipers nest that night.
The next morning at the appointed hour Grigori Belinsky and his mercenaries arrived in two SUVs. He was in the lead vehicle with three henchmen. The second vehicle accommodated two mercenaries in front and Katya and Katerina Kuznetsova sat in the back with Alice Leasingham. All of the women were handcuffed. Grigori and his mercenaries were wearing combat body armour and carried machine pistols.
Michelle Dupree stood beside Jennifer Jones who was handcuffed and tied to a chair. Jennifer’s ankles were also shackled. Grigori was aware that Jennifer had used a similar ruse to take out his brother-in-law and his best friend so he was taking no chances. The mercenaries exited the vehicles first and one of them went over and checked that Jennifer was securely trussed. Michelle was wearing a sidearm in a holster rig and a ballistic vest but there was no sign of any other people or weaponry. As agreed, Michelle was on her own with Jennifer.
The five mercenaries formed a protective circle around Michelle and Jennifer and Grigori alighted from his SUV and went back to the other vehicle and dragged the three women out of the back seat.
“I don’t see any money,” Michelle said levelly, addressing Grigori.
Grigori opened the rear of his SUV and grabbed a suitcase filled with banknotes totalling three million dollars, as agreed.
“You check the money and I will check Miz Jones,” Grigori threw the suitcase at Mitchell’s feet.
“I don’t have a clear shot. What about you?” Penelope whispered to Jack.
They were both looking through Vortex Optics Viper PST scopes mounted atop Mk 13 sniper rifles.
“Not yet. Grigori keeps moving. Remember the plan. Whoever gets a clear headshot on Grigori takes him out while the other takes out the mercenaries,” Jack whispered, although there was no chance that Grigori or his henchmen would hear them from this distance.
Grigori lifted Jennifer’s chin and stared into her cold green eyes that were filled with both hatred and resignation.
“I’m going to chain you to a wall in my basement and fuck you every day. I’m going to keep you for amusement and let my men use you whenever the urge takes them. When you are worn out and so psychologically damaged that you no longer amuse me I’m going to take my time and torture you to death so slowly and painfully that you will beg me to kill you,” Grigori grinned evilly into Jennifer’s face.
Michelle pretended that she had no interest in what Grigori was saying to Jennifer and checked the bundles of notes in the suitcase.
“I’ll check the other women now if you don’t mind,” Michelle said and Grigori nodded, showing no interest.
His plan was to take out Michelle Dupree as soon as the transaction was completed. He would keep the cash and Jennifer Jones. Katerina would work for him as his assistant because her knowledge of the inner workings of Jennifer’s Bratva was invaluable. But as soon as his men had mastered everything that Katerina knew he would dispose of her. She was beginning to annoy him already.
Alice Leasingham would be released because she was law enforcement and Grigori had no wish to attract the attention of any of the law enforcement agencies. Alice would keep her mouth shut because he would keep Katya alive and Alice would do anything to protect Katya.
“Can I say goodbye to Katerina?” Jennifer asked.
“Sure, why not,” Grigori grinned and beckoned for Katerina to approach and he uncuffed her.
Katerina sidled up to her boss and lover and Jennifer looked up at Katerina with adoration in her eyes.
“I surrendered myself to save you,” Jennifer said, tears running down her cheeks.
“You’re a fool Jennifer,” Katerina smiled sweetly at Jennifer.
“I’ll watch while you are raped and tortured. I will celebrate your death,” Katerina spat.
“Why?” Jennifer pleaded.
“Simple. Because you killed my father. I never got the chance to meet him because of you and Katya,” Katerina spat into Jennifer’s face and strode away.
At that moment Katerina confirmed what Jennifer had reluctantly come to believe was the truth and what Penelope had tried to convince Jennifer of. Katerina was the insider and her betrayer. She wished it wasn’t so but Jennifer knew deep inside herself that Occam's razor applied: the simplest explanation is most likely the right one. Jennifer was actually a little proud of Katerina. Jennifer had deposed her boss and taken his Bratva for herself and now Katerina was doing the same thing to Jennifer.
“I have the shot. Go! Go! Go!” Jack hissed excitedly.
He had the crosshairs of his scope trained on the centre of Grigori Belinsky’s forehead. He pulled the trigger and saw Grigori’s head instantly become enveloped in a pink mist of blood, brain and bone.
Penelope had her crosshairs trained on Katerina Kuznetsova’s forehead and Jennifer screamed as she witnessed her former lover’s head snap back as the bullet from Penelope’s rifle shattered Katerina’s skull.
Jack and Penelope quickly shifted target and began to systematically take out Grigori's henchmen but it was impossible to take out all five at once despite their rapid fire. Michelle pulled her pistol out of her shoulder rig and aimed at a mercenary who had trained his weapon on Jennifer Jones. She got two shots away as she dived on top of Jennifer, shielding Jennifer with her body.
Michelle killed the mercenary but not before he put a round into Michelle’s shoulder.
“Man down,” Jack hissed through gritted teeth.
Penelope had seen the mercenary shoot Michelle but the wound was not fatal. Michelle lay on top of Jennifer, protecting her while she kept shooting.
It was over in a matter of seconds. Grigori Belinsky and Katerina Kuznetsova were dead, his five mercenaries lying in the dust and Michelle Dupree was wounded. Katya and Alice were hugging each other and howling like banshees. Katya had just witnessed her daughter’s death and was inconsolable.
“Get off me Michelle. You're not exactly petite you know,” Jennifer was still tied to the chair, lying sideways on the ground with Michelle lying on top of her.
“Stop whining,” Michelle got up gingerly, nursing the gunshot wound to her right shoulder.
She untied Jennifer and removed the ankle restraints and handcuffs. Jennifer was covered in dust from the rocky ground and it looked like some of Michelle’s blood had stained her clothing. Michelle tried to help Jennifer to her feet but Jennifer was having trouble standing. It was then that Michelle saw the gunshot wound to Jennifer’s abdomen which was leaking blood in a steady stream.
Penelope and Jack had sprinted to the rendezvous site checking to make sure that all of Grigori’s men were dead. One of the men got to his feet and began to limp towards the SUVs and Jack raised his sniper rifle and sighted it on the man’s back.
“No! Let him go,” Jennifer called out, kneeling in the dust.
“I need him to spread the word that Grigori Belinsky is dead and that I am still alive,” Jennifer explained as the man drove away in a cloud of dust.
Jack dropped his rifle and unclipped the first aid bag from around his waist and went straight to Michelle, his face a mask of concern.
“Are you ok babe?” he kissed Michelle briefly and then held her at arm’s length so he could inspect her wound.
“Mine is a flesh wound. Jennifer is hit bad,” Michelle winced with pain.
“Oh god no!” Penelope snatched the first aid bag from Jack and kneeled down beside Jennifer who was now lying on her back.
She ripped open Jennifer’s top and saw the entry site in the lower right side of Jennifer’s abdomen. She tore open a wound dressing and put it over the puncture to stem the flow of blood. The wound was not squirting blood, it was a steady trickle so no arteries had been nicked which was a good thing but the wound was still serious.
Penelope remembered her DRSABC training. The ‘D’ for danger had been eliminated because Grigori was dead. Next it was ‘R’ for response. She lightly shook Jennifer and looked into her eyes to measure her level of consciousness.
“Are you ok?” Penelope asked, the concern in her voice almost too painful to listen to.
“Did you hear Jack Oliver call Michelle ‘Babe’? Am I missing something?” Jennifer quipped, despite her pain.
Penelope smiled. All of Jennifer’s faculties were intact.
“Ok ladies. Let’s get the fuck out of Dodge. Leave the bodies, just take your weapons. I’ll bring the van around, Penelope you drive the SUV,” Jack had put himself in charge and nobody argued.
Katya was kneeling next her daughter’s body weeping uncontrollably and Alice was with her trying in vain to console her.
“We’re taking Katerina. She gets a proper burial,” Jennifer winced as she was finally able to get to her feet and stand unaided.
Jack drove the Transit van with Michelle sitting beside him the front. She rested her head on his shoulder, her right arm in a sling. Katya and Alice had been uncuffed and were in the back, Katya kneeling over the body of her daughter, still crying and Alice was also bereft.
Except for Penelope, no one was exactly sure how Katerina had been killed. It was assumed she had caught a round to the head during the crossfire.
Penelope drove the SUV with Jennifer sitting beside her. Jennifer had refused pain relief and demanded to be given her phone.
Grigori Belinsky was an old style Pakhan who singlehandedly ran his criminal empire. They had cut the head from the snake and his Bratva would be rudderless as his captains fought amongst themselves to take control or simply deserted, fearing retribution from Jennifer.
Jennifer’s Bratva was successful because she used modern management techniques, empowering her lieutenants to act on her behalf, free to use the delegations she gave them. She tapped away on the phone ordering her men to use their initiative to take out key elements of the Belinsky Bratva and take back Katya’s villa.
Jennifer finally allowed Penelope to administer pain relief and she slipped in and out of consciousness. Penelope drove one-handed, holding Penelope’s hand in the other. Jennifer finally succumbed to the medication and dozed, her head resting on Penelope’s shoulder.
“I love you,” Penelope whispered and smiled wryly.
The van and the SUV careened into the forecourt of the safe house. Penelope leapt from behind the wheel and assisted Jennifer out of the passenger seat and into the house where Jennifer lay down on the couch.
Jack and Michelle herded Katya and Alice inside, despite Katya trying desperately to cling to Katerina’s body. Michelle took them upstairs and put them in her room.
“The bathroom is through that door. Use my toiletries and take any of my clothes that fit you. I know that you are both bereft but you will feel better once you have cleaned up,” Michelle said authoritatively.
She came downstairs to see Penelope fussing over Jennifer who was still tinkering with her fucking phone.
“I’ll have a doctor here soon to treat me and someone will come and collect Katerina. Katya’s cottage has been retaken. Grigori's men had already fled. My lieutenants report his Bratva is already crumbling,” Jennifer sounded jubilant.
“Give me the fucking phone and lie down and rest,” Penelope snatched the phone from Jennifer’s hands.
“Ok mom. Can I at least have a drink?” Jennifer smiled at Penelope.
“You know you shouldn’t drink in your state,” Penelope said reproachfully.
“Fuck it! Let’s all have a drink and celebrate our victory. I’ll just have Coke of course,” Penelope relented.
“It was a partial victory. We lost Katerina,” Jennifer glared at Penelope meaningfully.
Jennifer’s doctor came not long after a cohort of Jennifer’s men had arrived and took up defensive positions around the safe house. Jack wasn’t pleased about it but Jennifer insisted that it was temporary measure. Insurance just in case some of Grigori’s men found the gumption to mount a reprisal.
Katerina’s body had been taken away by undertakers to be prepared for burial in a plot at Katya’s villa.
The doctor treated Jennifer’s wound and declared that it was a through-and-through and not life threatening. He gave her painkillers and antibiotics and said he would contact Jennifer’s doctor in Portsmouth to provide follow up treatment at her dacha.
Jennifer had already arranged for a cleanup crew to prepare her dacha for her return. With Peter and Katerina both dead she had no one to do her busy work.
The doctor examined Michelle’s wound which luckily for her was merely a bullet graze to her shoulder and would heal quickly. Jack had fussed around Michelle while the doctor attended to her.
Everyone was now carrying sidearms just in case Grigori’s men did turn up but no one really believed they would.
Penelope took Alice aside and led her to one of the upstairs bedrooms.
“I will arrange to have your furlough extended for compassionate reasons. Katya is going to need your support,” Penelope said.
“I don’t think I’ll be going back to Balwyn except to pack up. I’m leaving the PD and moving in with Katya. She needs me more than ever now,” Alice said quietly and turned to leave the room.
“I don’t think I’m going back either,” Penelope whispered to herself because Alice had already left the room.
Penelope went over and opened the window to let in some fresh air. She was standing that way with the lace curtains billowing around her when she heard Jennifer enter the room and she turned to face her. Penelope unholstered her weapon and placed it carefully on the table.
“Do it quickly. At least give me that,” Penelope was crying softly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jennifer approached Penelope.
“You know it was me. I deliberately took out Katarina at the rendezvous,” Penelope began to shake and she lowered her head in shame.
“Yes. And I know why you did it,” Jennifer replied.
“You did it to protect me. You did it because otherwise I would have had to kill Katerina myself and you knew that it would break my heart to do so but that it had to be done,” Jennifer took Penelope in her arms.
Penelope wrapped her arms around Jennifer and held her close, still sobbing.
“You did it because you love me,” Jennifer whispered in Penelope’s ear and then she kissed Penelope on the lips.
Jennifer Jones’ Dacha, Portsmouth New Hampshire – Three Months Later
Jennifer opened the door to her inner sanctum and found Penelope Bishop sitting at the desk that once belonged to Peter Small. They were both wearing navy blue Prada skirt suits, Christian Louboutin high heels and sheer flesh-toned nylons.
As predicted, war had erupted in Ukraine and the High Council were focussed on the conflict. There was lots of money to be made by the Balkan Bratvas. The council were amused that Jennifer had beaten Grigori Belinsky. They did not know that Teodora Petrović had sent Michelle Dupree to help Jennifer nor would they care if they found out.
Jennifer was busy consolidating her Bratva. The Israelis had attempted to overthrow Jennifer’s operations in Las Vegas while she was weakened but when Jennifer was triumphant they were willing to negotiate a truce.
Uri Bokarev had made a pact with the Israelis, offering them ten percent of any profits Jennifer’s Bratva made, but behind the scenes Jennifer was consolidating her hold on the criminal element in Nevada and was confident she would soon be in control of most of the construction, food and beverage, sex industry, garbage collection, and vending operations. Uri Bokarev was working with Katya to bring in more girls to work the casinos and brothels.
Katya was still mourning the loss of her daughter but was blissfully unaware that Katerina had betrayed Jennifer and her own mother. Alice Leasingham was using her forensic computer skills to commit credit card and online banking fraud as a sideline to Katya’ people smuggling operations and of course Jennifer took her commission.
“I’m still trying to get my head around this stuff,” Penelope pointed to the computer screen in front of her.
“Nonsense darling, you are doing an amazing job,” Jennifer leaned down and nuzzled Penelope’s neck.
“Come into my office and we can get to work,” Jennifer said.
“Your office is too close to our bedroom and I can see that you have that look on your face,” Penelope replied.
“I think you are becoming a little too much like Peter was; all work and no play,” Jennifer pouted.
“By the way, Michelle and Jack have accepted our dinner invitation this evening,” Penelope offered by way of compensation.
“I think that Dupree woman has thoroughly corrupted that poor man. He left the FBI and is working with her now I believe,” Jennifer sniffed.
“How outrageous! That someone would leave their position in law enforcement and join up with a female criminal mastermind is unforgiveable,” Penelope smirked, rising to her feet.
“I forgive you. Now come into my office or I’ll be forced to bend you over that desk and give you a spanking,” Jennifer leaned in and kissed Penelope full on the lips.
“You’d try but I outweigh you and I’m taller,” Penelope came out from behind the desk.
Jennifer took Penelope’s hand and they walked into Jennifer’s inner sanctum together.
Penelope did not yet have a scorpion tattoo on her left ankle but she was thinking of getting one.
The End
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