The Diaries of Ayesha

I was finishing the last pages of American Pie when Mistress Minx took a moment to read the work and then grunted.

"The only thing you didn't say was "They lived happily ever after"," she scoffed. "It wasn't that simple to get home."

I looked at her over the top of my reading glasses skeptically.

"You really want to go there?" I posed.

"Have I ever interfered with your work in the past?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes you have actually," I countered then added quickly" and with good reason of course."

"Michael."

"Yes Mistress."

"Write the story."

So here I sit long after the incident trying to recover all of the little facts and figures and characters from my waning memory with the Mistress gently prodding me along with her riding crop when I falter.

After we flew out of Iraqi airspace and into Saudi territory aboard the American Pie we made a quick stop in Riyadh where we offloaded members of RJ Preston's team and then transferred to an U.S. Air Force C-21A where Moriarty and RJ joined us.

"Why aren't you guys getting off here?" I asked as the engines spun up.

RJ shrugged.

"Well it's like this. There are a few people who would like to talk to your wife about this whole affair starting with how she got involved in Lebanon to start with. Ideally I wanted her friend too, but we'll make out."

"Now just a minute," I started to protest before the Mistress cut me off.

"Michael, just let it go for now," she said tiredly. "Sergeant, I'm going to want to rest before I talk to anybody in an official capacity."

"Ma'am, so far as we're concerned, you were a prisoner of war and will be treated as such. All they want to do is ask a few questions about the people involved and then we'll arrange for you to return Stateside," he comforted.

"Who wants to talk to her and about what?" I probed.

"This is strictly about what she may have seen or heard in Lebanon or Iraq," RJ explained.

"And if they knew, whoever they are, exactly what would they do about it?" I asked.

RJ shook his head.

"My job was to provide assistance and then deliver all of the parties to Wiesbaden for medical determination and debriefing. I will say that I'm acting on orders from fairly high up the chain of command."

"Michael, let me deal with this please," Mistress Minx insisted. "I won't compromise my organization's security in anyway. I'm aware of what you've been told and while I don't know how much you believe, that is the total extent of our exposure."

Moriarty grunted at that.

"Lady, we may not appear to be the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree, but if we told anybody about that shit, they'd laugh us off the map. I'm not saying that I don't believe you personally, but professionally without solid supporting evidence I'm not saying shit."

RJ looked at him in amazement.

"That is probably the longest speech I've ever heard you make Moriarty," RJ said with honest amazement in his tone. "Look I did a pretty thorough background check on you two and I know that Michael actually writes about this stuff, but I don't know how seriously they are going to take it during the debriefing. My guess is not very, but some of it strikes a lot of truth so I don't honestly know."

"Ever hear of a writer named Cleve Cartmill?" I asked.

"No, should I have?"

"During World War Two he wrote a science fiction story about a bomb that used uranium as an explosive material. He was visited by the FBI for his trouble and interrogated as a possible security leak about the Manhattan Project," I explained.

RJ let out a low whistle at that.

"Then they might believe you at that. Shit."

"Not your fault Sergeant," the Mistress said. "Mei Ling took a calculated risk that might have been more risk then calculated."

That pretty much ended the discussion for the rest of the flight as the steady rumble of the engines lulled us all to sleep after our previous night's adventures.

It was late afternoon when we landed uneventfully in Ramstein and were met at the runway apron by two black Humvees and an ambulance.

As soon as the door opened two men in dark suits and sunglasses entered followed by an Air Force officer wearing medical insignia.

"Mrs. Forbin, I'm Doctor Schaffer, I'm a psychiatrist," he said holding out a hand to the Mistress. "I'm here to help you readjust to the world after your confinement."

"That can wait doctor," the taller of the two men in suits said flashing an ID card at the Mistress. "I'm with the Central Enquiries Agency and my partner is with the Federal Board of Regulations. We have a number of questions for you Mrs. Forbin."

"Gentlemen, my wife isn't going to answer any questions until she gets some rest and speaks to her family," I blocked.

"Mr. Forbin, this is a matter of national security. We understand your concerns and we're going to want to speak to you as well, but we need to speak to your wife now," the shorter man insisted.

The Mistress looked at all three of the men with the iciest of stares before reaching out and taking the tall one by his tie and pulling him closer to her.

"I will speak to you when I am ready. Is that perfectly clear?" she said in a tone acidic enough to etch glass.

Doctor Schaffer decided to intervene at that point and waved the two men out of the aircraft cabin and helped the Mistress to her feet and out of the airplane leaving the rest of us to follow behind them.

The ambulance ride was a fairly short one and I was pleasantly surprised to find ourselves back at Landstuhl Hospital where the search for the Mistress had begun weeks before. She was amused as I explained the situation and told her a little about Mistress Miriam's treatment of Dr. Burnside, discreetly of course as Dr. Schaffer was in the back of the ambulance with us.

"Well I hope you didn't leave too bad an impression with the staff here," she said.

"No, I think it's safe to say I didn't. Although I'm sure that Dr. Timbrinkle and Dr. Burnside will be pleased that you're alive," I reflected.

"I didn't know that you'd been here earlier in the year Mr. Forbin," Dr. Schaffer said. "I might have been of some assistance."

"That's alright Doctor. I have my own shrink who frankly advised me to do what I needed to do, to either find my wife or prove to myself she was really dead. It's not the first time I've been through something like this," I explained.

"I see," he said, all professional attention now.

Before he could invite me to lie down on the couch as it were, the ambulance came to a halt and the doors were opened.

The Mistress stepped down into a waiting wheelchair and was pushed inside while I declined the offer of a ride and followed her with Doctor Schaffer escorting me. RJ and Moriarty were left behind to deal with Mr. Tall and Mr. Short of the competing alphabet agencies and doing a fair job of it too.

We were given a suite with adjoining rooms which annoyed me as I'd intended to sleep in the same room with the Mistress even if not in the same bed, but it didn't seem to bother her so I held my objection.

"You're not really a patient here, so ask for anything you like when it comes to your food. I'm sure that after Iraqi prison food, you'd like some real home cooking," Dr. Schaffer advised. "Anything you like, just ask for it."

"Thank you Doctor, I'll keep that in mind. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone for awhile," she said graciously.

"Not at all. Just ring for the nurse when you're ready for dinner," he said and walked out.

"Alone at last," I said turning to the Mistress.

"Not exactly," she replied. "I'd like you to go to your room and stay there until I say you can come out."

I didn't quite know what to say to that, and for a change I didn't try and say anything. I just bowed to her and walked out closing the connecting door firmly between us.

I never did hear from her for the rest of that day or that night. I finally ordered dinner for myself and settled down with a copy of Time magazine to occupy my thoughts.

The next morning I knocked on the connecting door and was admitted by a nurse to my surprise.

"Where's my wife? " I asked surprised.

"She went for a walk earlier this morning. I was just changing the linens," she said.

I thanked her and went back into my room to get dressed. I had jus finished when there was a knock on the door and Dr. Schaffer stuck his head into the room.

"Morning Mr. Forbin. Thought you might like to have breakfast with me," he offered.

"I'd rather eat with my wife, but I understand she's out prowling the area," I said.

"Yes, I'd like to talk to you about that actually," he said. "Let's go to the cafeteria and I'll explain on the way."

As we walked he explained that it wasn't unusual for someone to want privacy and solitude after a long confinement with someone who might not be totally compatible.

"I understand that at least in theory Doctor. Heinlein once commented that on a long space flight in a confined space even a couple like Romeo and Juliet would have issues. Or as he put it, Juliet would be showing Black Widow blood after awhile," I agreed.

"So take her desire to be separate from you as nothing more than an adjustment to a long confinement," he advised.

"I'll be fine with it after awhile, but I have some adjusting of my own to do as well," I replied opening the door to the dining area.

We were joined at breakfast by Mr. Tall and Mr. Short of the alphabet agencies and finally identified themselves to me, the tall one being Frank King and the short one George Hazard.

"Anybody call you Hap?" I asked Agent Hazard.

"Only my wife," he said coolly. "We'd like to debrief you this morning if you're up to it Mr. Forbin."

I picked up a fork full of eggs and considered the request before agreeing.

"How about after breakfast then?" Agent King pressed.

I looked at Doctor Schaffer for a moment and then back at the two agents.

"If you'll let me eat in peace, yes," I grumbled.

The two agents excused themselves and I spoke to the doctor.

"Is there a professional term for the way those two behave?" I asked finishing my eggs.

"Yes. It's called pushy," he said and smiled. "You really don't have to talk to them this morning if you don't want to."

"No reason not to. And as long as my wife isn't inclined to talk to them yet, I might as well go first."

The debriefing took place in one of the conference rooms that were equipped with a white board a computer terminal. On the wall were hung a set of maps and a stack of notebooks sat on a side table. On the main table sat a tape recorder and a set of microphones.

"Mr. Forbin, I'd like to remind you that your participation is voluntary. You can leave at any time," Agent King said settling down in a chair across from me as Agent Hazard started the tape recorder.

"I understand that. Before we begin however I'd like to be assured that none of this discussion will be used in a court of law or for any purposes other than national security," I said settling into my own chair.

"Mr. Forbin, we're only interested in certain facts. Unless you have committed an overt criminal act, this information will remain confidential," Agent Hazard said taking a chair himself.

"Then let's get on with it," I said.

Agent King opened a file folder and looked at its contents.

"How were you contacted by the Iraqi government about the whereabouts of your wife and her companion," he asked.

"I was contacted through a third party and given a phone number to call if I was ready to deal," I explained.

"Who was this third party?" Agent Hazard pressed.

"I'm sorry, you don't have a need to know that. I was contacted in London at a concert by someone who worked in the Iraqi Embassy and given instructions for delivery of the ransom.

"And that was stainless steel piping that was purchased by the Iraqis before the embargo, is that correct?" Agent King queried.

"Yes. I arranged though some of my connections to have the materials released and shipped to Tel Aviv to Atlas International Packaging."

"Why did you pick Atlas International Packaging?"

I shrugged.

"Picked it out of a phone book. I needed an import company that had connections inside Iraq."

"Were you aware at anytime that employees of Atlas International Packaging were members of Israeli security?" he probed.

"Not in the slightest," I lied.

Agent King opened up another folder and drew out an 8x10 glossy of Vicky.

"Do you know this woman?" he said holding up the picture.

"Yes, she was my contact at Atlas and helped me get into Iraq as well as back out again."

"And at no time were you aware she was a Major in Israeli Intelligence," Agent Hazard asked.

"Not until now. I kinda wondered about it though. She knew way more about things than I did," I said with an expression of amazement.

The two agents looked at each other for a moment and then Agent King continued.

"Mr. Forbin, we know a little about your background from reports provided by Sergeant Preston and his team, and I'm amazed that you would be unaware of a fact like that."

"Maybe I'm not as smart as my background makes it look."

Agent King looked down at his files again and then back at me.

"Right now we need to know exactly what you saw, whom you saw and what you did in Iraq. Without any embellishments or poetic license."

"Mr. King, I resent the implication of being a liar. I do not make it a habit to lie," I objected thinking, I do however leave out the qualifiers on occasion." If you would like a written report on my activities in Iraq, you're welcome to one. I'll even autograph it for you."

"Mr. Forbin, let me make it clear to you what we want from you. Answers to specific questions," Agent Hazard chimed in.

"Then ask a specific question and I'll answer it."

"Did you deliver stainless steel tubing to Iraq?" he asked.

"I arranged for delivery of stainless steel tubing to Iraq," I clarified. "I did not personally deliver it."

"Are you aware of what the tubing could be used for?" Agent King continued.

"Yes. Are you aware that the tubing was sabotaged before shipment?" I countered.

The two agents looked at each other with expressions of confusion.

"Excuse me Mr. Forbin. You sabotaged the tubing?" Agent Hazard asked.

"I know it was sabotaged, but not how or what will happen when the piping is put in use."

"Why?"

I almost laughed at that.

"Gentlemen, I wanted my wife back, but I wasn't willing to risk someone like Saddam getting a working nuclear device. So, arrangements were made," I explained.

"With who?"

I shook my head at that.

"Sorry gentlemen, you don't have a need to know that."

"We understand that you were assisted by a member of the Saudi royal family in your escape from Iraq. How do you know him?"

"Family friend by marriage," I answered honestly.

"Was your meeting with him arranged by Wendolyn Dawes?" Agent King asked.

"Yes."

"Did she arrange for the embargo to be lifted on the tubing as well?"

"I don't know that she did. I know she talked to a few people discreetly about the problem."

"All right Mr. Forbin, why don't you take your time and tell us all about it," Agent Hazard said.

"No more questions until I'm done?" I asked cautiously.

"Just tell it naturally, it's not a grilling." Agent King said.

"Ok then," I agreed.

It took about three hours to give them essentially what was a plot synopsis of the last three Diary entries, leaving out the bits about Ay'esha and Kali, as well as not confirming the suspicions of the two agents by mentioning Shin Bet's involvement.

"And that's all you have to say on this matter, is that correct?" Agent King asked as I sipped a cup of lukewarm coffee that had been delivered halfway through the meeting.

"That's all."

"So you maintain that your wife was actually kidnapped by renegade members of a Christian group and not by the Iraqi government and given sanctuary in return for the Christian group's assistance in constructing a nuclear weapon," Agent King said skeptically.

"I do."

"Do you have any proof of any of your story?" Agent Hazard pressed.

"None that's admissible in a court of law. But I know the truth and that's all that really counts," I admitted.

Agent King turned off the tape recorder and sat back in his chair and sighed.

"Thank you Mr. Forbin. We might have some questions for you later," he said.

I got up and started towards the door and then turned back to face the two agents.

"It might sound like bullshit gentlemen, but I think Sergeant Preston can back up a lot of it," I said and walked out.

I went back to my room and then knocked on the connecting door, and was invited to enter by the clear tones of my Mistress.

"Good afternoon Mistress," I said kneeling at her feet as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Good afternoon mine sklave," she said looking down at me and then away quickly.

"Is there anything I can do for you Mistress?" I asked.

"I don't think so Michael," she said distantly. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound unkind, but I'm just not sure of myself right now. It's been too long since I even had the chance to make a decision or think on my own."

"You did fine on the plane with those two guys. Don't worry about it. You've still got it," I assured her.

"Is this what you went through after you were returned to the world?"

I took her hand and held it gently.

"I had the advantage of the time at the Spa to work my way back into the world. You've just been dumped back in all at once," I said.

She looked at me and nodded.

"I tried to read a newspaper today and I realized that I haven't seen a newspaper in months. I have no idea what's happened since I was taken."

"A writer named Spider Robinson wrote a story about a priest who had been thrown into a Latin American dungeon in the early sixties and wasn't released until the seventies. The dilemma faced by the priest is that he was out of touch with how society changed, like a time traveler appearing in the future and couldn't function properly."

"I hope the story had a happy ending."

"Actually it did. The people he told the story to listened to him, and accepted him and helped him without question. And that's my job now too. To help you. If you'll let me."

"Can you accept that I may not be the Mistress you know and love for awhile?" she asked sadly.

"You will always be my Mistress, even if you don't feel like you are," I assured her. "Now how about some dinner and then I'll give you a foot rub?"

"All right. Do you suppose I could get some Thai food here?' she pondered.

"Probably made with sauerkraut, but we can ask," I teased getting up and pressing the button for the nurse.

I underestimated the talents of the cooks of the United States Army, because they managed to put together a passable beef satay in less than half an hour.

Dinner was followed by the promised foot massage which relaxed her enough to go to sleep, but not without her first ordering me to sleep in the other room. I would have pouted but I remembered what the doctor had said that morning and resigned myself to sleeping alone again.

RJ joined me for breakfast the next morning and told me that he'd been talking with the two agents.

"I told them what I could to confirm your story, but even I have to admit it's pretty thin evidence against Pat..."

"Please, refer to him as the Right Reverend RJ. After all I wouldn't want to libel or slander the man even if he did engage in a conspiracy to murder a few million people," I corrected. "And no I can't prove anything in a court of law. But how many times have you been the 11th Commandment: Thou shalt not get away with it?"

He shrugged.

"A few I guess."

"Then there you go."

He changed the subject by asking if I'd phoned my mother in law yet.

"You know, I haven't. I'm sure that she knows we're free and clear by now. I expect that either the Prince or Buddy called her."

"Well I got tipped off that Vicky is back in Tel Aviv and that other girl left for Chicago yesterday," he said. "Maybe you should call her and make sure."

"Actually I need to call a couple of people and update them on what's going on," thinking of Mistress Miriam and Saphra.

"Then I'd do that," he said getting up. "And quickly."

"Why?"

"Trust me."

When I got back to the room I decided to take his advice and picked up the phone to call Wendolyn and was unpleasantly surprised to be told that I couldn't make any outgoing calls at the time.

"And why is that?" I asked building up a head of steam.

"I'm sorry sir. I have my orders. No calls out," the operator said and the line clicked dead.

Ok people, what the fuck was this all about.

I pushed the button for the nurse and asked to see Dr. Schaffer and was told he was unavailable.

"You tell him to make himself available, or I'll scream the house down," I warned her.

"Sorry sir."

I went into Mistress Minx's room to tell her what was going and found the room empty and all of her personal items missing.

I called the nurse from the Mistress' room and was told that she had been moved to a new room in another part of the hospital.

"I'll have someone take you over there right now," I was told.

I was taken all right. About three minutes later I was carried by two very large orderlies to the NP ward and locked in a small room with nothing but a bed, a toilet, and a wash basin for furniture.

The NP ward, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term is the mental ward.

My only consolation was it wasn't a padded cell, but it wasn't far off it. I had one small window, heavily glazed over and with bars too small to put a fist between, which I have been told is the right way to do it, because you'd have to cut through two to get anywhere.

The peephole in the door slid open with a click and I saw an eye peer in.

"I'm sorry that this was necessary Mr. Forbin, but I assure you there are good reasons for it," I heard Agent King say.

"Oh I'm quite sure of that," I replied sarcastically.

" Your activities in Iraq have interfered with certain operations now underway in the Mideast and we'd rather not have you discussing your travels at this time."

"And when is the right time to discuss it?"

"Never would be preferable."

"I kinda thought so. How long are you going to keep the two of us here?"

"We felt that a full psychiatric evaluation was in order. We're flying in a specialist from California to evaluate the two of you so it shouldn't take more than few days. "

"What, you couldn't find a shrink locally? Vienna isn't that far away. You could have gotten a relative of Freud."

"Just relax Mr. Forbin. You'll be on your way soon enough. Right now I've got to go debrief your wife. The drugs should have taken effect by now."

"What drugs?" I said jumping off the bed.

"Nothing to worry about. She's been somewhat resistant so far, but I'm sure she'll respond soon."

"You son of a bitch. When I do get out of here, I'm going to kick your ass," I snarled.

"You're welcome to try," he said and clicked the peephole shut again.

I was more than a little concerned about the Mistress being drugged. I really haven't liked it myself, but in her case it could be catastrophic.

There is a lot about Ay'esha that I don't know and that's for the practical aspects of security. I can't spill what I don't know.

Mistress Minx probably knew everything right down to people's shoe sizes.

I started checking possible escape routes from the room and finally concluded that there wasn't any practical way out, so it became obvious that I'd have to try the impractical. As I sat thinking I noticed that the peephole clicked open on a semiregular basis and closed again quickly. I also noticed a TV camera implanted in the ceiling behind a metal grille, so what ever I did was going to have to look innocuous as well.

I looked up at the camera again and then I had an idea. It was old, trite and tacky, but what the hell.

I walked over to the washbasin and started washing my hands, but I was a bit sloppy and the toilet paper became waterlogged as the basin slopped over. I took the roll off the holder and then quickly pitched it at the camera grille like the world's biggest spitwad.

The paper stuck to the grille as I'd hoped. Now it was time for phase two.

That involved using my arms and legs to climb up the space in the entrance to the room, like a rock climber going up a chimney to lurk above the door held in place overhead by friction alone.

I must have hung there for what seemed like hours until I heard the peephole click open and then shut again and then quickly reopen.

"Come on," I thought. "Get stupid and curious. Open the door."

The peephole clicked closed again and I just kept hanging on although I was starting to slip from position because of my sweating hands, not to mention my own body weight trying to check local gravity.

I finally heard Agent King and another man approaching, arguing.

"He's still in there," Agent King pronounced." I don't care what you think you saw. He screwed up the camera and hid somewhere in the room. He's probably under the bed."

The door lock clicked and the door swung open. An orderly came in with Agent King following about a foot behind him. As soon as they were far enough into the room, I dropped to the floor behind them and rolled outside, kicking the door closed behind them and then jumping up to turn the key.

"Gotcha!" I crowed and then heard someone about a foot away behind me clear his throat.

"Nice try Mr. Forbin," Agent Hazard announced twisting my free arm behind my back. "Creative too."

He reached around me and unlocked the door with his free hand and pulled it open.

Agent King and the orderly came out more than a little pissed off and embarrassed.

"Is it going to be necessary to strap you to the bed Mr. Forbin?" Agent King asked as Agent Hazard walked me through the door.

"Give it your best shot asshole," I ground out through gritted teeth. "If you have read my file you know I'm a determined little pain in the ass."

"I'll bear it in mind," he said nodding to the orderly to strap me down.

I did not go gentle into that good night, but I did wind up strapped down to the bed tightly.

"Someone will be in to feed you later," Agent King said and the three of them walked out together and locked the door behind them tightly.

Oh well at least the camera was still blocked. I could have a little privacy at least.

One of those things I learned a long time ago when I was being trained at the Rancho was when you have nothing to do, do nothing. I practiced that carefully and finally dozed off from sheer boredom.

I woke up at the sounds of the key rattling in the door lock and looked towards the door to see a different orderly than before come in with a dinner tray and set it down on the basin.

"It's time for dinner Mr. Forbin," he said.

"Well I'm not going to be able to eat it over there," I said looking at him upside down.

"That's all right. I'm going to feed it to you anyway," he countered.

"Try it and I'll do my best to spit it on the ceiling," I objected.

He hesitated and then shrugged.

"I guess I can let you feed yourself. But try anything funny and I'll strap you back down," he warned.

"Hey. I'm harmless," I said. Mostly harmless, I thought.

He released my arms and helped me to a sitting position and placed the tray in my lap.

"Thanks," I said picking up the plastic spoon and scooping up some mashed potatoes.

"No problem."

As I ate I studied him carefully. There was something about him that set my little sensors off. The policy may be don't ask and don't tell, but I can tell when I have to.

Not that it bothers me. In this case it might even be useful as well as fun.

"You know, you're really a very nice looking guy," I said picking up a carrot stick and looking pointedly at his crotch. I slowly sucked it into my mouth and then ate it slowly.

He shifted uncomfortably and didn't say anything.

"It's been a while hasn't it," I said repeating the process with another carrot stick and then dipping some of the whipped cream off the chocolate pudding that was on the tray with a finger. I slowly sucked the cream off and then closed my eyes.

"That is so good. God, the worst thing about being strapped down like this is it makes me horny," I explained.

"Really, " he said weakly.

"Oh yeah. I really get off on being bound like this. It would be more fun if I had something to suck on though," I pouted.

He stood up and removed the tray from my lap.

"I think that's enough," he said thickly.

"Too bad," I said reaching for his crotch as he backed away quickly.

"It's against the rules," he said and walked out with the tray, but leaving me unbound.

Half a loaf anyway. I guess I'm losing my touch in my old age.

I quickly unstrapped myself and used the toilet before doing anything else.

Sorry, I really had to pee.

Anyway, I was free again, but still locked up.

The TV camera was still off line, so I figured I'd try the hang over the door trick again, not having any better plan in mind. Besides what the hell, I'd just get tossed back in again if I got caught.

Before I could do that though I heard conversation outside the door and decided that I'd be better in bed for the moment.

The door opened and the orderly who brought dinner came in along with RJ.

"I hear you're fruity as a nutcake," RJ said sitting on the end of the bed as the orderly let himself out.

"You're real funny," I said sitting up.

"You get your phone calls made?" he asked softly looking around.

"No, they cut me off and bottled me up just after breakfast as well as the Mistress," I said in equally hushed tones.

"Give me the numbers," he said.

"Why?"

"If you want to get out of here any time soon, someone has to know you're in here to force the point," he said.

"Normally I'd say why should I trust you, but you haven't fucked me over yet," I said. "Got a pen?"

I scribbled Wendolyn's number down as well as Dr. Grace Denoblis's number. If I were going to have a shrink crawl through my head, I'd prefer it was mine. Besides she could pass the word back to the Mother of Many so at least they'd know it was mission accomplished.

"I'll call them as soon as I get off base," he said." Can't trust the phones here."

"Did you have any idea these guys were going to pull this shit?" I asked as he folded the paper into a small square and slipped it into his pocket.

"Like I said earlier, debriefing is standard, but these guys are shitting peach pits over yours. I guess our little trip stirred up a real hornets nest."

"They gave the Mistress truth serum and Goddess knows what she said, so you'd better make that call soon," I emphasized.

"I'll be back," he said, standing up and calling for the orderly. "In the meantime, don't try anything stupid."

The orderly let RJ out and I was left alone again.

That state of affairs continued until early the next morning when I was again brought my food, this time by the orderly I had trapped in the room the day before. He placed the tray on the basin and walked out after sneering at me.

I considered smacking him on the head with the tray and making a break for it, but remembering RJ's parting words I settled for flipping him off instead as he turned away from me. After he left I turned my attention to breakfast. At least the food was acceptable and the coffee was good.

I spent the morning alternating between looking out the window and making mental notes for the story that ultimately became American Pie and frankly became bored with both as my concern for the Mistress was serving as a powerful distraction.

When lunch came, I demanded to speak to Agent King and was ignored.

"When he wants to talk to you, he will," was the comment from the orderly.

"You tell him that anyway," I advised. "Or you're not going to hear the end of it."

He snorted and left the room.

I don't know if the orderly told him what I said or not, but I was summoned to appear a few minutes later.

"Mr. Forbin, in light of the information from your wife, I'm afraid it's going to be necessary to reexamine the things you've told us," Agent King said as Agent Hazard stood behind me.

"Oh?" I said neutrally.

"Actually, we're going to have to start from the beginning," he continued. "It seems you haven't been entirely truthful with us."

"Goddess I hope I haven't been. I don't usually speculate on who a persons parents were," I said lightly.

"Listen to me carefully you little asshole," Agent Hazard said pulling my head back. "You're already on the edge of a long stay in a federal prison, so I've watch my smart mouth if I were you."

He released my head and pushed it forward.

"Hey guys, if you've checked me out, you also know I'm a stringer for the Howe-Ward newspaper syndicate," I said naming the newspaper company owned by one of the Matriarchs of Ay'esha that issued me a press card many moons ago, "and my press card lets me go into Iraq or any place else on a news assignment. Last time I checked the First Amendment was still in force."

Agent King motioned for Hazard to step away from me.

"Nobody wants to throw you in jail Mr. Forbin. Although frankly I'd like to take you out behind the building and throw a punch at you. What your wife has told us doesn't seem to corroborate your story at least from the point where you were reunited."

"I should think that would have reassured you that we're not conspiring against you," I commented.

"We'd like permission to use truth serum on you," he asked politely.

I laughed.

"Oh, I see. You force it on her and then you want me to roll over for it? Hey, you can take that needle and...."

Before I finished I felt the sting when Agent Hazard shoved a needle into my arm as I was distracted by Agent King's request.

"I'm sorry we had to do that," Agent King apologized," but we do need to know the whole truth to make sure our own operations haven't been jeopardized."

I would have replied but my tongue was too thick to work properly and I had a head full of fuzz. At least when Mei Ling put me under it wasn't as mind fogging. Fighting the drug, I started thinking of all songs I knew.

I was aware of Agent King when he started asking questions but what he got for answers seemed to annoy him somehow.

I guess Henry the Eighth I am wasn't quite what he was looking for as an answer to the first question. When he asked about Vicky though I told them the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I told them everything. Part of me knew I shouldn't, but the other part of me knew they wouldn't believe me anyway so it didn't matter

By the time I recovered, both of the agents were looking bored and yawning more than I was from the aftereffects of the drug.

"Are you two happy now?" I asked rubbing my burning eyes.

"It's obvious Mr. Forbin that you have been under the influence of a trained interrogator at some time in the past. With that in mind, we'll have to wait for the specialist to arrive to truly evaluate your story," Agent King said. "In the meantime, we'll have to continue to hold you here."

"Now look here damn it. I've been as helpful as I can be, probably more than you think, but you're really pushing the limits of cooperation by keeping my wife and I here as virtual prisoners. I'd like to see my wife at least and assure myself that she's all right," I argued.

"George?" Agent King asked Agent Hazard who was now leaning against the wall studying me.

He shrugged.

"No reason not to at this point. Maybe they'll both be a little more cooperative after spending some time together," he suggested.

Agent King nodded sharply and Agent Hazard pulled me to my feet.

"Come on man. We'll put you in with your wife and you can both discuss becoming more cooperative."

The Mistress' room was a little larger than mine and better furnished, but still on the wrong side of the security door of the mental ward. The Mistress was wearing a hospital robe and sitting at a table playing chess against herself when I was pushed into the room.

"Thought you might like some company," Agent Hazard announced. "I'd suggest the two of you consider your position carefully."

He walked out and locked the door carefully.

"Well don't just stand there Michael," the Mistress said frowning." It's your move."

I joined her at the chessboard and looked into her eyes. They were clear and bright with no sign of her having been drugged.

"Playing black or white?" I asked.

"Since you play so badly, I'll let you play white," she said smugly.

Now that was deliberately insulting to say the least. I'm no Paul Morphy, but I get by.

I surveyed the board carefully and moved a bishop into a position to threaten her queen and she glared at me.

"You're not going to defeat me that easily," she snapped.

"It's not going to do any good to complain about it, it was a fair move," I countered.

"I'd suggest you let me have it. You know it's not wise to upset me," she said with a slow wink.

I nodded slowly. She had a plan.

"So what are you going to do? Pull my arms out of my sockets?"

That was enough for her. She swept the chessboard off the table and lunged for me.

I caught her and we both tumbled to the floor, kicking the chair over as I fell.

"Good catch," she muttered into my ear." Did you tell them anything?"

I tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her and put my head near her ear.

"I told them everything. Not that they believed it," I said softly.

"Get off me asshole," she said loudly for the benefit of any listening ears and then softly. "Good boy. Better to tell the truth and have it ignored."

"Not that I had much choice, they used truth serum on me too," I replied quietly. "Make me bitch," I yelled.

She rolled me onto the floor and sat on me and started pounding my chest screaming and then leaned closer.

"What do you mean too? They haven't used anything on me yet," she murmured. "They've just kept interviewing me."

"They lied to me," I said quietly as the door burst open and two orderlies came in followed by Agent Hazard and separated us.

"Keep that bastard away from me," the Mistress shrieked.

"She's out of her fucking mind. She tried to kill me," I yelled in return.

"If the both of you don't calm down, I'll have you both sedated and strapped into straitjackets," Agent Hazard commanded. "The doctor who's going to do your evaluation will be here in the morning and frankly I'd rather have the two of you alive."

"I'll behave if she will," I said glaring at the Mistress.

"Just stay away from me," she demanded.

"Gladly!" I retorted.

At a sign from Agent Hazard, I was released and so was the Mistress who stalked into a corner away from me.

"I'll send in dinner later, but no knives or forks. You two are likely to kill each other if you're armed."

The three men left and securely bolted the door behind them.

I scanned the ceiling carefully for a camera like in my old room and was relieved to find it absent or far better concealed so I slid down the wall to the floor and slowly crawled my way across the room to where the Mistress stood and waited as she lowered herself to my level.

"Are you all right?" she asked, stroking my hair.

"I'm fine Mistress," I said holding her in my arms as she snuggled into me.

"So they told you they used truth serum on me."

"Yes Mistress. I wasn't sure what to do."

"You did fine my love. I'm more concerned about the person coming to evaluate us tomorrow. I'm not sure what they'll do then."

"If they do use truth serum on you, they'll learn about everything. You, Ay'esha, Kali, everything," I fretted.

"Then they will learn everything Michael, and we become unpersons because they'll never let us leave here."

"Maybe not. RJ said he'd try to get a message to your mother and to Grace. If he did, then we're not going to just disappear quietly," I comforted.

"If he got a message to Grace, then there is still a chance. I'm not sure what my mother could do."

"Mistress, when we get out of here I suggest you have a long talk with your mother because you don't know as much about her as you think you do," I suggested.

"My Mother the Spy," she giggled suddenly.

"Better than My Mother The Car."

That set us both laughing out loud to the point of weeping when we were finally exhausted.

When dinner was brought in by the orderly that had served me the night before he found me lying on the floor with the Mistress sitting on my face and wiggling. Before he could say anything, the Mistress had sprung off my face and into his taking him down, cracking his head hard on the floor.

She finished the job with a short vicious chop to the neck and grabbed the keys from the floor and threw them to me.

"Let's get out of here," she said grabbing her discarded robe from the table.

"You know RJ told me not to do anything stupid," I said getting off the floor and stuffing the unconscious orderly under the bed after tying and gagging him with the bed sheets.

"Instead of the sane and sensible thing we're doing now?" she retorted. "I trusted you enough to jump out of an airlock onto an alien planet, so why not break out of a loony bin?"

"Good point," I said padding to the door and unlocking it and peering carefully out.

No one in sight, but I did spot a series of TV cameras at intervals panning slowly left to right and back again.

"The place is clean, but there are cameras about every fifty feet down the hall," I told her as she tied the robe shut.

"So we run like hell, " she said. "You got a better idea?"

"If I did, would you listen?"

"Probably not."

"Then why bother? Ready to bolt?" I asked tensing for a sprint.

"Last one to the exit cleans the toilet when we get home," she challenged.

"I'll have Miriam do it anyway."

"Not any more since she became Mistress Miriam. On the count of three," she said then blurted "Three!"

She bolted past me and headed for the door at the end of the hallway with me close behind her. Where we got there we found the door led into another wing of the building leaving us with a choice of left or right.

"Right turn Clyde," she said heading to the right and rounding another corner. When I caught up with her she was pressed against the wall as an orderly passed by the connecting door into yet another secure wing. I waited until he passed and caught up with her.

"I'm beginning to feel like a lab rat in a maze. Back to the left I guess," she panted.

About that time an alarm went off and we could hear running feet. I looked around for any kind of hiding place to no avail until I spotted what looked like an electrical panel mounted in the wall.

"Lights out?" I suggested nodding towards the panel.

"Go for it."

I popped the panel open and started flipping breakers off until the place was plunged into total blackness and silence as the power failure cut the alarm.

"Ok, now what?' she hissed into my ear.

"Stick close to the wall and follow me," I said fumbling around until I found her hand.

We slithered back the way we had come all the while listening to people trying to find a flashlight or get the lights back on.

"God damn it, " I heard Agent Hazard say only a few feet away. "When I catch up with that guy I'm going to kill him."

I judged the distance from where I was to where he was and for a brief minute considered laying him out then decided that punching out a Fed would be a bad idea in the long run.

"I've got to give him credit though, he's good. The only thing we've done wrong is underestimate him," I heard Agent King say.

"Him, what about her? Three sessions of Sodium pentothal and scopolamine and she still hasn't told us anything. He babbled nonsense at least using the amytal, but she doesn't remember anything at all."

"Gentlemen, I think that both of them have been implanted to resist interrogation," Dr. Schaffer said in the darkness. "I'm not sure by who or for what reason, but they don't even know they're blocking. It's fascinating to observe."

"Keep moving," I whispered to the Mistress.

"What was that?" Agent King said just as the lights flickered on.

"Surprise," I yelled as the Mistress and I hotfooted it towards the far door.

We had the lead and this time it was the right door. We unlocked and cleared it with a minute to spare and slammed it in Agent King's face.

What we hadn't counted on was the fact the alarm had summoned the MP's to the ward and we were facing them coming up the corridor.

We skidded to a halt as the MP's approached with nightsticks drawn as patients and doctors scrambled to get out of the way.

"Don't make it harder on yourselves," Agent King called from behind us. "Surrender."

"Nuts," I countered keeping my attention focused on the MP's and backing up against the Mistress.

"Traditional but appropiate," the Mistress said taking up a defensive stance as well.

"You know, I think we're having a Modesty Blaise moment."

"Who?"

"Later."

Before the situation could escalate any more the two MP's were shoved aside by a man in a general's uniform and a man I'd hoped I'd never see again.

"Well Mr. Forbin, Miss Dawes we meet again," Dr. Richard Kimball said cheerfully.

"It's Mrs. Forbin now thank you," The Mistress rebuked.

Dr. Richard Kimball had been involved in the fake UFO sightings in Campo California that I documented in Flying Purple People Eater and UFO. He was reputedly a professional psychologist although I had a tendency to think of him as a professional psychopath.

Our last meeting had resulted in the Mistress and I having to hide on a desert island until the situation had moderated.

"You know these two people?" the man in the general's uniform asked.

"We've met. Small world isn't it?" Dr. Kimball smirked. "Gentlemen, put down your weapons. They're not going to make any further trouble."

"You want to bet?" the Mistress said grimly. "I owe you one for that bitch friend of yours who tried to fry my brains."

"Yes, well the photo processing chemicals you threw in her face left her somewhat less attractive than before, but these things happen."

"She wasn't that great before," I countered.

"As you say Mr. Forbin. Would you both please just relax and come with me. It won't take very long and then you can go home. I give you my word on that."

"I'd sooner kiss a Wookie," the Mistress said.

"There you go again, stepping on my lines," I replied. "Raining on my parade. Damn."

That was enough for the general.

"Guards, put those two in custody," he ordered.

The first one came towards me with his nightstick at the ready and had his arm grabbed as I hip checked him into the wall hard.

The Mistress had the task of dealing with Agent Hazard who decided to be a hero and charged her, resulting in her throwing him past the two of us and into the second guard and Dr. Kimball as the general leapt back out of harms way.

Agent King started to grab the Mistress when I turned and let out a war cry that startled him into stopping.

The Mistress spun about and simply said "Next?" and gave him a flying kick that knocked him back to the door. I turned back just in time to block a punch from the MP I'd thrown earlier who had regained his footing and spin him back around the other way and into the other wall this time.

Ultimately though there were more of them then there were of us and we were finally overwhelmed and carried back into the NP ward and strapped into treatment chairs.

"Gentlemen, I can take it from here. If you'll just wait outside for me, I'll be with you in a little while," Dr. Kimball said stepping back to survey his work.

"Are you sure about that Doctor?" Agent King asked cautiously.

"Quite sure," he said firmly.

The two agents and the MP's left the room and Dr. Kimball carefully locked the door behind them and then stepped up to Mistress Minx.

"Now your Highness, let us discuss the location of your hidden rebel base," he said doing a poor imitation of James Earl Jones.

The Mistress spit at him and he caught it full in the face.

"That wasn't necessary you know," he said. "I'm actually on your side."

"Bullshit!" I cried.

He wiped the spittle of his face with the back of a hand and then turned towards me.

"I understand your suspicions Mr. Forbin, given our past relationship, but believe me, I'm on your side."

"Oh yeah. So what are you going to do to us?"

He smiled.

"Nothing."

"Oh you're going to nothing us into submission," the Mistress said sarcastically.

He sighed heavily.

"Didn't you two ever wonder why I never came after you?" he asked.

"We had the impression you were called off," I said.

"Oh, and I was, " he said pulling up a chair and sitting next to the Mistress. "From about as high up the chain of command as you can go and countersigned by the top of the chain of command. So I let the matter drop. Then two days ago I get a call from the same person telling me to make sure that there aren't any embarrassing questions asked. Frankly I didn't think she had the time to call anybody with her Senate campaign going right now, but that's neither here nor there. So I'm here. Now what I need from you now is a plausible story to give those two agents and then you're out of here, free and clear."

"Is he serious?" I asked the Mistress.

"It's possible Michael, even probable given the circumstances," she confirmed. " According to Michael I was given some sort of truth serum and they didn't learn anything. How do we explain that?"

He shrugged.

"It takes an expert to make them work properly. That's why they requested me to begin with. I have to admit I'd like to know what you're hiding, but I'm not going to push it."

"If we tell you, you won't believe it anyway. Michael is an expert on that subject."

"Try me. We've got all the time we need." he said.

"All right Doctor," the Mistress said." You are well aware of the fact that the government functions on multiple levels with multiple agencies involved. In our case we are part of a group that exists outside of the regular intelligence community that has plausible deniability because we are associated with private industry. We're contractors more or less, selected to do a job. In this case we were contracted to try and locate stolen nuclear material before it could be used to build a nuclear device. My partner and I did find it, but were captured and taken into Iraq when we witnessed a problem with the assembly of the weapon. Ultimately other elements of our group discovered the weapon had been planted in a major Middle East city."

"All right, go on" Doctor Kimball encouraged.

"Michael didn't know anything about it until much later. I was reported dead, but he refused to believe it. He tracked me into Iraq and arranged to ransom me back using some of my family's contacts. In the process he became involved with elements of Israeli intelligence that sabotaged the piping that was demanded as ransom in order to secure their cooperation. I understand at the point he started looking for me was when he became involved with elements of the U.S. military also operating on the same mission. Those elements in conjunction with elements of the Saudi government in cooperation with the Israeli and British governments were responsible for our safe extraction from Iraq and our return here."

He pulled out a pipe and packed it slowly with tobacco and then lit it.

"Very interesting," he said puffing smoke. " I actually find a lot of it believable. And if I believe any of it, I should be able to convince our friends with the CEA and the FBR to accept it as the complete truth."

"Thank you for that," the Mistress said. "Now can we get unstrapped?"

He drew on his pipe and shook his head.

"Not just yet. When I do let them in, you'll need to convince them that you're under the influence of a drug. I take it you can pull that off?"

"Would reciting Jabberwocky be sufficient?" I asked.

He laughed at that.

"I don't think so. Something a little less known would do possibly."

I heard the Mistress giggle.

"What?" I asked.

"Just an idea. How literate do you think those two are?"

"If it's not popular culture, I think you're safe," Dr. Kimball commented.

"Then I'm ready."

"Then so am I," I agreed.

Dr. Kimball took one more draw on his pipe and walked towards the door.

As he opened it, the Mistress began to sing.

"Man will swear and Man will storm-

"Man is not at all good form-

"Man is of no kind of use

"Man's a donkey - Man's a goose

"Man is coarse - Man is plain-

"Man is more or less insane-

"Man's a ribald- Man's a rake,

"Man is nature's sole mistake."

I wasn't going to take that lying down strapped down or not, so I started singing as well.

"Each newly joined aspirant

"To the clan - to the clan

"Must repudiate the tyrant

"Known as man - Known as man.

"They mock him and flout him,

"For they do not care about him

"And they're going to do without him

"If they can - If they can!

"These are the phenomena

"That every pretty Domina

"Is hoping we shall see

"At her Universitee!"

"As you can tell, they're both under now," Dr. Kimball announced bringing in the two agents. " Let's step outside and I'll give you my report while they recover."

He escorted the two agents out and closed the door with a last glance at us and a knowing wink.

"Since when do you know Princess Ida?" the Mistress asked curiously

"You have a copy of it in your library at the Rancho. So I read it as well as the score from Pirates of Penzance and HMS Pinafore. For I am the Pirate King," I sang.

"I'm not going to do Buttercup no matter how much you beg," she retorted.

"How about "Build me up Buttercup" " I asked.

"Michael, I am still your Mistress. Remember that."

"I haven't forgotten Mistress. I just want to make sure you don't."

I heard the door open again at that point and went into "A policeman's lot is not a happy one" as Dr. Kimball came in without the two agents.

"You can stop now," he said," Although I think you might have some talent as a singer."

"Well thank you," I said surprised as he released the Mistress from her bonds.

"Yes, I think you rate with William Shatner singing Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."

"Well!" I said in my best Jack Benny imitation.

The Mistress wasted no time in releasing me from my restraints and then turned her attention to Dr. Kimball who was standing watching the two of us, his pipe smoldering in his hand.

"Now what Doctor?" she asked.

"Now we take you back to a regular room and tomorrow you go home. And officially, we pretend nothing ever happened. Except..." he paused.

"Except what?" the Mistress prompted.

"Would it be possible to meet again sometime, on neutral ground of course," he added hastily.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"The two of you fascinate me. You have a rather unique relationship. I know she's the dominant partner, but you still seem to have a well balanced relationship anyway."

"If you'd like to come and see us sometime, I have no objection. Perhaps you'll learn something new," the Mistress said. "Maybe even a few things that will surprise you."

"I have no doubt of that."

He escorted us out and back through the secure doors into a suite in the main hospital area where a full dinner was laid out up to and including a bottle of wine. Also to my amusement, sitting on a silver tray with a plastic cover over it, was a telephone.

"Quick Robin, to the Bat Phone" I said nodding towards it.

"I promise, it will do more than call Commissioner Gordon's office," Dr. Kimball laughed. "Also, the bathroom is through the door on the left and I think you'll find everything you need in there."

"Hot water?" the Mistress asked pointedly.

"All you need," he promised.

She dropped the tattered hospital robe on the floor and headed for the bathroom and closed the door behind her and then reopened it.

"Don't just stand there Michael. I need my back washed and it's your job," she said with that loving voice of command that always made me tingle.

"Yes Mistress," I said looking at Dr Kimball and smiling before scampering off to join her in the bathroom.

After a long hot wonderful shower (and a discreet discussion away from any hidden microphones about our cover story), I toweled dry her hair as she used the phone to call her mother and announce our safe return to Germany.

"What do you mean you already knew we were back?" the Mistress asked. "Hold on, let me put this on the speakerphone."

She pressed the button and then told her mother to continue.

"Yes darling, I actually received three calls about your return. One from the British Embassy in Israel, one from an odd gentleman named Bob, and another from Miriam although how she knew is a bit of a mystery to me," Wendolyn explained.

"And to myself as well," the Mistress said looking at me oddly.

"It never hurts to carry a spare," I said.

"Indeed," Wendolyn agreed. "Arrangements have been made to have you picked up as soon as you're released."

"Buddy Holly Airways?" I asked with a grin.

"Not this time Michael. It seems that Miriam has secured a Gulfstream and pilot that knows the area. The same one that you used earlier in the month."

Mistress Jazmyne and the Ay'esha Gulfstream.

"Then we should be in London late tomorrow Mother," the Mistress said. "How is Father taking the news?"

"Your father is actually quite thrilled and rather impressed with Michael's abilities. I haven't had the heart to tell him that he didn't do it all by himself."

"Go ahead and tell him the truth," I said. "It was a team effort."

"And the only reason the team fought and won was because you led it. Don't be over modest Michael," Wendolyn scolded. "Besides if I told him the whole truth, I'd have to discuss a matter better left quiet. "

"We can talk about it when we get back to London," the Mistress interjected." I have a couple of questions for you myself."

"Yes dear. It can wait. Call when you get in and I'll send the car around for you. Ta!"

The Mistress hung up the phone and looked at me.

"You led the team. Your ego is getting a little out of hand Michael," she warned.

"With all due respect Mistress, they were just going to leave your ass out there and write you off. I didn't agree and some of the other people who love you didn't either. So we did something about it. Some of the support was out of love, other was out of a sense of obligation to who we are," I said respectfully.

"Who we are?" she asked honestly puzzled.

"We're an example to some people of a good loving D/s relationship. How many Daughters have gotten married since you took me for your own?"

"I really don't know."

"More that you'd think Mistress. When I write the Diaries I leave a lot out and add lots in, but I always make sure that they see the relationship between us. I'm your pet, your submissive, your slave and your nominal husband. But mostly I try and show us as a team. Mrs. Peel and John Steed. Modesty Blaise and Willie Garven. Laser Lady and Condorman. Babs and Buster Bunny..."

"Michael," the Mistress said.

"I'm not done yet. I'm an excellent first officer, but I have no real wish to command Mistress. And I wasn't going to abandon my Captain without doing everything I could first, even though it pissed people off."

"Michael, shut up and let me kiss you," the Mistress ordered.

That stopped me.

"What?"

"I want to kiss you Michael. That is my right as your Mistress."

"Yes Mistress."

It was a long time before we thought about dinner.

As promised the next morning, we were discharged from the hospital after a short interview with Agents King and Hazard reminding us that officially nothing had happened.

"Does that extend as far as the charges you could press for assaulting a federal officer?" the Mistress asked.

"Technically yes," Agent Hazard agreed. "Why?"

"Good," she said and knocked him onto his ass. "I should have let Michael have the privilege of doing that, but I hated to give it up. Gentlemen, if we ever meet again it will be too soon."

And that was how we wrapped up our departure from Landstuhl Hospital with the score one Fed down and a set of bruised knuckles on my beloved.

Chapter 30 Sections 1 to 3

Flying Home
The Stately Homes Of England
Donald Where's Your Trousers?