Lisette and the Cyber Geeks
by
Brian Sands
Team Knight Rider, Fuzzweb
Chapter Eleven
Chérie Chalmers’ Story
"Hurry up! Those stupid villagers are getting closer," said Red Vellum as she gave Chérie’s elbow ties an extra tug.
"Zis leedle one goes in her place now," replied Sigrid triumphantly as she hauled Lisette to her feet and propelled her roughly towards the chair that stood against the pillar close to the stairs.
Lisette quickly took up her seat to avoid any further pretext for Sigrid to roughhouse her. She watched dazedly as the big woman knelt and tied her ankles separately to each front chair leg. Something she had been told at one of her organisation’s in-house security courses came to mind, that if she was being tied into a chair, the ropes could be made less effective when she stiffened her body and slumped in the seat. The illustrative pamphlet, taken from a World War Two military manual, showed a thickset Germanic type doing just that in a small chair. She took a deep breath in order to swell her body and sagged in her chair at the same time, feigning near exhaustion - not entirely hard to do.
The gang was in a hurry. Having passed the job of finishing off Chérie’s tying to Mrs Gamms, Madame Vellum was pacing up and down, urging the others to finish off. They had to go upstairs and appear normal to the village runners, who regularly stopped for water before dashing on in the chase.
Kidd was being more than normally useless, jumping up and down and goggling at the two young women. The man was finding it difficult to choose which woman to ogle more. Chérie’s breasts were outlined clearly through her thin white slip, brought into relief by the ropes that now bound her to the chair, which was in its turn anchored to the post with more rope. Kidd had made her hop up and down a couple of times on the way to the pillar near the centre of the room, and the same breast insisted on slipping out of Chérie’s silken bodice into full view. And then there was Lisette’s smaller but lissome form, her neat rounded breasts with their points almost pushed upwards out of their half-cups by the ropes that were being wrapped around her. Lisette’s bra had widely-placed shoulder straps and she was distressed to find that, because her elbows were joined behind her back, no amount of wriggling could stop the straps from fluttering off her shoulders and down her arms.
Her nylon sheathed legs drew the eyes irresistibly to the white triangle of silk panties and then to the satin-shiny black suspender belt. The fact that Lisette was slouched in her chair accentuated the almost wanton cast of her body, although the look of fatigue on her face and in her eyes told a different story.
The binding was finished.
"Come on, come on!" cried Vellum. "Now where did I put that scarf .. upstairs? Damn! ... Boompsie, make yourself useful and get some of their clothes from that bag."
Kidd rummaged about in the pillowcase while managing to keep his eyes fixed alternately on Lisette then on Chérie for long periods. He came up with Lisette’s black half-slip and white cotton shirt. Vellum snatched the half-slip from the distracted man and tossed it to Gamms.
"Gag her," she ordered peremptorily.
Alvina Gamms began to tear the fine black silk into broad strips.
"Here," added Vellum as she passed the shirt to Sigrid, "You do Miss Rivers."
"Is a plezzure, ya!"
Lisette watched as the expensive fine cotton of her shirt was torn into long strips. She could hear the sounds of her half-slip tearing as well, but her back was to Chérie and she could only glimpse the young woman from the corner of an eye. She did not want to turn right around to have a better look because her trick might be working, and too much movement could alert her captors to the knowledge that her body was not as tightly bound as it appeared. Sigrid tied one long strip of white shirt material around her forehead, passing it about the pillar as well so that Lisette could barely move her head. The woman then stuffed a small piece of torn shirt into Lisette’s mouth and bound another strip between her jaws to hold the gag in place. The ends of the cloth were also tied to the support. It was a relatively effective between-the-teeth gag, more like something Mrs Gamms would have tied than Sigrid’s more usual extreme measures. When they are in a hurry, they tend to make mistakes, Lisette thought. Thank goodness.
She could hear Chérie making faint gugging sounds and guessed that she was now being gagged. But Lisette did not try to turn her head. Instead, she remained slumped in the chair and hoped that her captors would interpret it as acquiescence to her plight.
"That’s better. Those ropes will hold them, and the gags look nice and tight," said Vellum. "Come on," she commanded her hench-persons, "Let’s prepare some nice lemonade for the village lads and lasses."
The foursome filed up the steps. In a short while, Lisette and Chérie Chalmers were alone.
Lisette tested her bonds. My hands and arms are well tied, she thought, but let’s see what I can do about these other ropes.
Before moving her body around, she had to do something about her gag and the cloth holding her head to the post. A head tie or gag applied in this manner is not practical unless special cinching is applied, neglected by their captors. The disadvantage of tying a heroine’s head to a post lies in their respective shapes. The back of her head is round whereas the post is often round as well or with an uneven surface. If her head cannot be wedged somehow against the post into a hollow, a few movements will allow her to turn her face aside and thus affect the bonds.
So when Lisette managed to turn her head, both the gag and the forehead band loosened, and, by tilting her head and body she managed to slide down a few inches and out of the band around her temples. The gag was more difficult. It tended to slip down about her neck, but she kept it in her mouth and, after a great deal of wriggling, succeeded in sliding her cheek under it, releasing the hold with her teeth, and working her head out from the bottom. With a grimace, she spat out the small piece of wadding.
Slipping a little lower in her seat assisted this, and it also made the ropes slide higher up her body. At first they pressed hard against her, the pressure squeezing both breasts out of their cups in spite of the bra straps. They had begun slipping down her shoulders as soon as her elbows were tied. The rope bands rubbed uncomfortably across them in passing but, once they were through, she was able to slide her shoulders beneath the ropes as well.
Lisette was now sitting on the edge of her chair, no longer tied to it except by her ankles. Her wrists remained firmly bound, however, and her arms at the elbows. She would need help with them. Lisette found that she could support her body with her hands as she slid the rest of the way off the seat and lowered herself onto her knees, to the floor. Fortunately the ankle ties were not as tight as those holding her arms, and the greater flexibility allowed her ankles to rest almost at ninety degrees across the chair legs without too much pain. But she could not remain sitting in that position for long before circulation was cut off. By twisting her body, she reached one ankle and unraveled the simple knot. Then she did the same with the other ankle. When both legs were free, Lisette almost fell the rest of the way to the floor.
Scrambling shakily to her feet, she turned towards Chérie. Casting a look down at herself, Lisette saw a body that she did not entirely feel that she owned. The black stockings, white panties, and garter belt contrasted against the lacy white bra that had now slipped, its shoulder straps hanging uselessly around her upper arms. Above it, completely free, two perfectly shaped breasts pointed upright in the effect caused by having her arms bound behind her back.
Lisette raised her head and staggered towards Chérie. After being tied up for so long, her legs felt weak and rubbery. As Lisette approached across the floor, the look in Chérie’s wide eyes registered a sort of erotic surprise. Lisette wondered what the girl was thinking. But Chérie was gagged, most of her face hidden beneath a wide strip of half-slip silk that held a wad of the same material packed so fully into the girl’s mouth that her cheeks bulged outwards against it. It had to be the first thing to go if they were to communicate, and there was no time to waste.
Lisette reached Chérie without falling. It was an effort to speak after being gagged for so many hours.
"I- I’ll get that off your mouth first, Honey," she said through lips and jaws that did not want to function.
She backed around and reached her fingers to Chérie’s face. Chérie in her turn raised her head, looking like a pretty blonde fledgling asking for more food with its mouth still full. Lisette’s fingers traced the outlines of the cloth, found an upper edge, and slowly pulled downwards. The silk clung to the girl’s cheeks, as though reluctant to release such beauty. It came away after a few moments of steady pulling, and the coughing that followed told Lisette that Chérie was getting rid of the gag. She turned back to face the girl. Chérie had been tied a lot more securely to the chair. The thought again passed through Lisette’s mind that Mrs Gamms had applied a Sigrid approach to gagging her victim while Sigrid had used the Gamms method. They’re a crazy bunch, she thought, but a dangerous lot too. She shivered.
"We have to get each other free and find a way out of here fast," she said to the girl. "Can you move at all?"
"N- No." They were Chérie’s first words. They ended in more coughing.
Lisette saw that she could not reach Chérie’s bound arms at once. She had to untie or at least loosen the ropes that held Chérie to the chair. The girl’s arms were trapped behind her, wedged against the chair’s back. But it was easier than Lisette expected, for the body ropes were tied with the knot across Chérie’s midriff in order to make sure that the girl’s hands could not reach it. Lisette had to almost sit in Chérie’s lap to reach it, but in a short time the knot was undone.
"Lean forward, Sweetie," said Lisette in a whisper, though their captors upstairs could not hear them.
Chérie understood and complied. The elbow ties were tight and it took agonising minutes for Lisette to make them budge at all. But at last they came away.
"God, that bitch tied you up tightly!" Lisette exclaimed. "Do you think you can manage to stand?"
"I- I’ll try,’ the girl replied, "but I don’t want to fall over."
Her ankles were tied together and, while both bare feet were planted side by side on the floor, they were anchored by an additional rope from her ankles to the centre rung below the chair. Gingerly, Chérie raised herself. It was a supreme effort, for she was more exhausted from the ordeal than Lisette. Lisette noted this. After all, she thought, the poor girl has been tied up for days at a time!
Chérie was able to maintain her balance while Lisette worked at her wrist bonds.
"Won’t be long now ... There! I bet that feels better."
Chérie fell back into the chair, massaging her arms and wrists vigorously. She looked up at Lisette.
"I’ll untie you when I’ve got some feeling back in my hands. They’re so cold and numb!"
Lisette bit her lip, hoping that Chérie had not been damaged permanently by the ropes. She waited patiently, slowly regaining her own strength, planting her feet in the thin carpet and bracing her body against the floor in order to centre herself better. When at last Chérie stumbled to her feet, Lisette turned and presented her bound arms to the girl. She waited impatiently as Chérie’s fingers worked on the hard knots.
"You- You’re Lisette Ruisseau, aren’t you?" said Chérie. "I accessed some of your files when I started investigating this case. Special privileges for legals you know."
"I know," Lisette replied, "But it gave me a paper trail that led me here where I’ve at last found you. It was quite a trail, I tell you. Have you any idea how big this gang is?"
"I don’t know for sure ... There, your arms are free. I bet that feels just as good as when you untied mine."
"Ohhh, lots. Thank you."
"I didn’t know some of the people who were in this house today, who are upstairs ..."
"We’ll have to compare notes."
Lisette began replacing her bra.
"But not now ... Now where? ... Ah yes."
Lisette spied her shoulder bag where it had been thrown carelessly beneath the steps. She retrieved it and inspected the contents.
"Well, I must say!"
She extracted the small two-barrelled derringer from its secret compartment and held it up for Chérie’s inspection.
"They didn’t bother to look. That’s an unexpected bonus, considering they took our clothes."
"Do you always carry a gun?"
"No, hardly ever ... only in special situations. But that Gamms woman got the drop on me."
"I didn’t know about her. She’s the short, stocky one who finished tying me up, isn’t she?"
"That’s the one. But come on, we have to find a way out of here."
Lisette looked up at the narrow window close to the ceiling. The grimy pane allowed a russet morning glow to decorate the ceiling. They could hear the faint calls from the runners and hikers outside. Lisette knew for certain that they would have had no hope of attracting attention through their gags. It was unlikely that their cries now would penetrate the thick walls of the cellar, for most of it was underground. No, there was a better way out.
"Come on" she said firmly, "Let’s exit in style, through the door."
"But ...?"
"Wait and see, Sweetie. I’m not allowing us to be tied up by those people again!"
Lisette threw the strap of her bag over one shoulder and under the opposite arm where the bag itself hung against her side, and walked up the steps where she stood listening at the heavy door. Would Vellum have troubled to leave a guard, or were they all upstairs feeding the wayfarers? There was one way to find out. She knocked.
What she really did was to pound heavily on the door with both hands, several times. If there is a guard, she - or he - will know that somehow we’ve worked free of our bonds, she reasoned. And they’ll be eager to come in here and shut us up again.
Lisette was right. Someone on the other side of the door was inserting a key and turning it in the lock.
"Get ready," Lisette hissed to Chérie who was standing two steps below her. "Keep to the side, at the railing."
The door opened and one of the members of the gang stepped through in an excess of confidence. Yes, it was who Lisette hoped it would be, Doctor Bombadil Kidd who could never resist lingering by the honey pot. When he came face to face with Lisette, a smile spread across his pudgy face.
"So ... you’re out of your bonds?" he began, pointing out the obvious. "That won’t please Madame at all. But this time, I’ll have the pleasure of tying you both up myself. I- urk!"
Doctor Kidd was now face to face with Lisette’s Derringer, its double barrels centred between the man’s eyes.
"Get down there," grated Lisette in her best imitation of a Hollywood gangster. And, as Kidd shuffled past, dazed by the sudden reversal of roles, Lisette added to Chérie, "We can’t waste time over this. Hit him with something will you?"
"My pleasure."
Kidd doubled up as Chérie Chalmers’ knee was driven into his groin with all the force the young woman could muster. And, as he bent forward from the blow, the girl followed it up with a knee to the man’s jaw. Kidd dropped like a sack of rags and slithered on his back gracelessly down the steps to the floor below, where he lay groaning.
"Wonderful!" cried Lisette. "Obviously you did the same course I did! Come on, let’s get out of this place."
The two young women slipped out the door. Lisette closed it gently, locked it, and took the key with her.
"I’m not going to try to face off those three women," she whispered to Chérie. "Let’s find a side exit."
The large country house had several doors. Lisette and Chérie found one and stole softly through it where they found themselves in one of the fields backing on to the house. The sounds of the villagers were receding in the distance, so there would be no assistance from that quarter. We’ll just have to leg it out of here alone, she decided.
Lisette slipped her Derringer back into the shoulder bag, threw the keys to the cellar into a clump of long grass, and took Chérie by the hand.
"It looks as if the road’s just beyond those trees, so let’s put them between us and the house!"
"Have you any idea where we are?" panted Chérie as she ran beside Lisette.
"None. But there will be people about. We’ll find out soon enough."
*
Both women were close to exhaustion. Their running was erratic and several times they stumbled on rough ground as they traversed the field. They helped each other when one fell. By the time they reached the comparative safety of the trees and concealment from the house they were good friends in adversity.
"Do you think they saw us?" asked Chérie.
Lisette looked back across the field thoughtfully.
"I’m not sure. There hasn’t been a sound from the house."
"Maybe that Kidd fellow hasn’t raised the alarm yet?"
"The way you kicked him, I’m not surprised."
"He’ll survive," the girl said grimly,
"Yers. Unfortunately."
"Yers?"
"Um, a friend’s way of saying affirmative with emphasis."
"Oh ... Lisa, what are we going to do? We seem to be miles from the nearest village, and I’m not exactly dressed for a long hike, neither are you for that matter. Ipso facto."
Lisette looked at the single slip in which Chérie was clad, grimy with sweat and with dirt from the field they had just crossed. Then she looked down at herself. The subjective view was even more discouraging. At least Chérie’s covered up, thought Lisette. Well, most of the time, in that slip, though it is somewhat short at the thighs. Chérie’s silk slip came to mid-thigh and little was left to the imagination when she ran. On the other hand, Lisette was more scantily clad in the revealing half-cup bra and panties, but the former supported her breasts and made running in lingerie a little less troublesome. On the other hand, Chérie had less protection. The thin bodice of her slip was not sufficient to prevent her large shapely breasts from bouncing with each step. The young lawyer had to hold an arm across her chest so that her running lacked the balance normally given by moving both arms in synchronisation. Moreover, both women were barefoot, which meant that they had to be careful where they trod.
It was, however, a glorious morning, at that moment. The sun was shining anew on the world and the rain clouds on the horizon did not look too menacing. Lisette made her decision.
"Come on, Chérie. I’m almost sure the road’s on the other side of these trees. Let’s try walking along it for awhile. It won’t do any harm. And someone’s likely to come."
Lisette led the way. They picked their route carefully through the trees, choosing terrain that was not too hard on their feet. Within a short time they reached the highway. The distant sounds of a car revving up impatiently, followed by a tattered shout, came from the direction of the house. Lisette realised that they were much too close for safety, with only a small field and a narrow belt of trees between them and their former captors. For a moment she succumbed to panic and, seizing Chérie’s hand, began to run along the road away from their pursuers. The surface was painful to walk on in bare feet, let along run, and in less than a hundred yards they had to slow down. Lisette was quickly regaining her wits, kicking herself for giving in to fear.
"Quick," she exclaimed as the sound of a car reached their ears, "Off the road! We don’t know whether it might be the gang."
But the car, a sleek Mercedes, had already rounded the bend ahead of them at speed. They were in full view of the driver. Lisette stood irresolutely. It was too late to run into the trees. It was beginning to rain in a soft warm haze. But not too late to step off the road out of the car’s path. She pulled Chérie with her to the verge, realising at the same time that the vehicle was coming from the opposite direction to the house.
The Mercedes pulled up with a squeal of brakes and the front door flew open. It was Donald Caisson, alone at the wheel. He indicated the seat next to him.
"Get in. Quick!"
Lisette and Chérie piled onto the one seat. And Lisette, who was on top, pulled the door shut behind them. The car roared off, the acceleration pressing both young women against the back of the seat. Lisette raised her head and looked up admiringly at Donald.
"What a girl dreams for," she said wickedly, "To be swept up in a Merc by her lover!"
"I see you’re dressed for the part," was Don’s repartee, "Do I have to repeat my former admonitions about appropriate clothing choices?"
"Oh?" For a moment Lisette felt embarrassed, then she rallied. "It was a little number I dreamed up. You’ve heard of minimalism."
"I’ve seen it all before. Minimalism, that is. There was that time in the Alps of Untervald ..."
"Exactly. It’s context, not content. Alps or English countryside: context. Content: I had nothing to wear."
"The perennial condition of woman. But man must be content!"
"Whatever are you two babbling about?" called Chérie’s muffled voice from the back.
She had in the meantime scrambled there, affording the driver a diverting glimpse of flesh on the way before falling in a heap on the seat.
"We’re just glad to see each other," called Lisette over her shoulder. "Don, is that a gun in your pocket?" She snuggled against him. "Oh ... Mmmm ... Oh?"
"No ... and, yers. In that order."
"You’re wearing a shoulder holster."
"I have to sometimes, when I’m expecting trouble."
"Mmm, you’re a man of many parts ... I’ve got something to show in that line too."
Don heaved a sigh. "I may have seen enough ... for safe driving."
"No ... I mean here, not ... there. Here."
Lisette held up the Derringer. "What do you think now?"
"I see you know how to handle it properly, with care, which is something of a relief."
There was silence for almost a minute. The Mercedes slowed perceptibly.
"Don? My little car ..."
"We’ll do something about it later. There are more important things."
"More important things than my car?"
Donald Caisson remained silent, refusing to be drawn further by Lisette’s wit.
"Where are we, and where are we going?" asked Lisette more soberly.
"We’re not far from where this affair began, for you that is. And it’s to be our first stop before going on to the city."
"My little cottage?"
"Yers."
*
Two hours later, Lisette Ruisseau and Chérie Chalmers were sitting around the electric fire in Lisette’s country cottage. They were wrapped in blankets, mugs of hot mulled wine cradled in their hands. The fine morning had given way to heavy rain, and a chill was in the air. It began when they were on the road, but the two women scarcely noticed. Chérie had curled up on the back seat covered by a heavy picnic blanket that had seen better days. But it was clean and dry and, more importantly, warm. The girl had fallen asleep instantly. Lisette slept too, snuggled against the garish tweed jacket that Donald Caisson wore. She wanted to ask him about it, a little apprehensive that it was a permanent part of his wardrobe, but sleep overtook her too.
Now in the cottage, Donald Caisson affectionately watched the two young women crouched over the heater. A crucial debriefing was about to take place. It was Lisette who began. She took a contented sip of the hot wine and looked across at the man.
"Don, how did you find us? I thought I had everything planned out. I left you their address. But they spirited us away so quickly! And I couldn’t leave any sort of clue because I was tied up and blindfolded ... I don’t think I much care for car boots any more. I wish they had never been invented."
"Hmm." Don Caisson sipped his drink gravely. "Lisette, you have an astonishing talent for getting into trouble, but I’m beginning to learn ways of safeguarding against your foolhardiness."
"My fool- ...? But, Don, if I don’t take some risks this case will never be solved!"
"Yers ... But, you see, the fault’s partly on my side. When you’re out in the field as it were, I should give you better backup. We can, and do, work as a team. The skill we have to cultivate between us is communication. It’s not too far fetched to suggest that we have code words or expressions between us, for instance ..."
"And clues I can leave behind ... ?"
"Yers. Now I found you both because I became like the Lord High Executioner in that Gilbert and Sullivan musical."
"You ... had a little list?"
"Yers."
"I - I’m sorry Don, I don’t understand."
"Here, have a look at this. I think you’ll find it interesting."
Don extracted a small pocket notebook covered in black leather and passed it across to Lisette. When the young woman opened it, she saw each page covered with thick spidery writing."
"Why, these are addresses ... There’s the Lower Bodley Village library, and ... here’s the flower farm ... Don, how did you get this?"
"From a mutual acquaintance."
"Let me guess ... Little Doc Legato?"
"The very same. When I paid him that visit I did more than turn him over. I turned his room over as well."
"Yes, you said."
"This was one of the spoils of that operation. That little book holds all the addresses you visited over the last few days, plus a few more. Some are pretty innocuous, such as the phone number of a barmaid, and his barber’s address. But that country place was included. I was a long time getting out there because I had to exhaust the other ones first, closer to home. The houses were all empty, by the way."
"I thought as much ... Don, if they keep moving like that, we’ll never catch up with them."
"Ah, but I have my own address book. Remember, I was a small part of the gang, a sort of errand boy, until they tried to frame me."
Lisette looked at Chérie sitting attentively beside her."
"You didn’t hear that, did you Chérie?" she asked pointedly.
There was a pause. "Hear what?" came the reply.
"Oh, I just love a discreet lawyer," said Lisette, giving Chérie’s arm a gentle squeeze. Then, "Chérie, where do you fit into all this? I know when I was accessing my work files that you were doing your own investigation, for your department."
"Well, that’s all there is to tell, really. I had addresses too, and I went to the one where that woman Red Vellum and Doctor Kidd lived. I started asking questions, until one of them pulled a gun on me. I think it was the man. Everything happened so quickly. And then that big Scandinavian woman trussed me up like a turkey and threw me in their car. They kept me for days." Chérie’s body shook with the memory. "Most of the time I was bound, gagged and blindfolded, so I had no idea where I was."
"Did the man ...?"
"No, thank god. Most of the time they sort of respected my body. But it was a horrible experience. And then you came along and got us both out of there."
‘And now we’re here," said Lisette, finishing her drink. "Don ... Um, I think I need another drink first ... Thank you. Don ... I have an idea ... It’s your idea really."
"I can see it coming!" said Donald as he refilled his mug and offered to top up Chérie’s partly drunk brew.
Chérie shook her head with a mumbled statement that sounded like, "Lips that drink wine ..."
"Don, our original plan was for me to pretend to be your prisoner so that you could infiltrate the gang and find out why they framed you."
"Yerrrs?"
"Why don’t we do it this time? They’d love to get me back in their hands before I can tell the authorities."
ã Brian Sands 2004
ã Brian Sands 2004