Chain of Command

by Nicole Dere

  Appropriately, the sound and picture on the screen faded, and the still shot of Liz in her strident warrior pose came up. As Moira made to move Sandra wriggled around, so that the pants were dragged down at the front to allow the pale patch of pubic hair to peep coyly forth, and she straddled the older woman’s bare limbs, spreading out her own to sit facing her. She rested her brow against Moira’s dark head and pouted her lips, planting light kisses on her lover’s mouth. She let her hands slide round the broader back, and Moira leaned forward a little to allow them passage. Sandra undid the catch of the bra and eased the cups off the full breasts. She shimmied her shoulders, leaning even closer to let her breasts rub caressingly against the fuller, heavier globes.

  ‘You just want to make me feel my age, you little bitch,’ Moira growled equably.

  ‘No,’ Sandra whispered sexily, ‘you’ve just got me all wet and raring to go. I want your lovely body on mine. I want you to make me pop my cork.’

  Obligingly the seated figure rose, and held Sandra clasped to her like a native to a coconut palm, holding the gripping thighs under her arms like the shafts of a wheelbarrow. Sandra’s arms in turn were hooked tightly around Moira’s neck to assist her as, hands cupping the silken buttocks, Moira bore her charge out into the hallway and, with only the softest of grunts, carried her up the carpeted stairs and into the main bedroom.

  ‘You’re stronger than you look, Superintendent,’ Sandra giggled as Moira thankfully deposited her on the wide double bed and fell on top of her. Then their mouths met eagerly and opened, tongues colliding, slithering about each other in semblance of their writhing bodies as each combined to help the other out of her knickers. Quickly and willingly Sandra gave up her active role and yielded to the ministrations of her partner, whose arms once more encircled the slim upper thighs and opened them wide. The hands cupped the small rounds of Sandra’s bottom, which Moira felt clench in her grasp and lift joyfully to meet the assault of her burrowing face, and fervently lapping tongue.

  By the time Sandra’s cork had been popped, and the reciprocal favour had been returned by the younger girl, darkness had well and truly fallen, in spite of the late summer sunset, and the pair lay in tired, contented repletion under the sheet together.

  ‘Won’t your little Derek be wondering where you’ve got to?’ Moira asked, largely for the pleasure of savouring her own passionate attachment to his wife and Sandra’s equally fierce return of that passion.

  ‘He knows where I am.’ Sandra sniggered like a smutty schoolgirl. ‘Well, maybe not exactly where, but he knows I’m entirely in your capable hands, Ms Sharp. I told him it was a special operation and that you needed me right on hand. It probably gave him quite a thrill, poor duck, to think of little old me involved in all this high drama hush-hush stuff. It doesn’t matter how late I am, he’ll still look at me with those doggy devoted eyes of his when I wake up beside him in the morning. Or even if I don’t come home till after the milkman, for that matter.’

  ‘You’re a cocky little madam, Mrs R,’ Moira chuckled. ‘And don’t you tempt me. There’s nothing I’d like better than to keep you in my bed for all-nighters.’ She let her palm cup the delicate curve of Sandra’s mound, feeling the silky crest and the dainty hardness of the bone beneath. She revelled one last time in the feel of the warm, pliant body against hers, their slackly interlocked thighs and their sated flesh. ‘But now I’m going to kick you out into the cold night, my little tartikins. I’ve got to have a clear head in the morning, and it’s an early start. It’s all right for you, you can have a lie-in. Just be in for nine, and no grubby little heterosexual shenanigans, mind!’

  Sandra sat up, pushed the sheet down and stretched her arms above her head. Her pert breasts lifted, their nipples budding against the sudden chill. ‘Ugh,’ she shuddered with mock extravagance, ‘don’t be so disgusting!’

  Wearing a black silk wrap pulled tightly about her, Moira went out into the drive and hugged Sandra in a last, smothering clinch before watching her drive away. Let the neighbours cop an eyeful of that! But Moira smiled when the car had driven off, knowing full well that their parting kiss had been screened from any prying eyes. She thought about the display they had watched on the computer screen as she returned to the lighted living room. Liz Grant’s martial logo was still there, defiantly glaring out at her until she switched off.

  She shook her head in an admiration tinged with envy at the exhibition she had seen. Jill Christie had only known the tall redhead for four or five days at the most, and DC Christie had seemed such a shy little thing whenever she’d met her. She had to take her hat off to Jackie Barlow, the butch bitch! She had transformed the blushing violet. The girl was already performing like a veteran porn star, ready to give her all, literally, for the cause of her boss. How did Jackie do it? Moira would have sworn that young Christie was too prim to go for Jackie’s sadistic butchism. In fact, it needled a little that she had apparently gotten away with it, with spectacular success.

  She sprawled back on the settee in the soft lamplight, absently fingered her tender sex with the gentlest of strokes. Well, she’d soon see how the old dike and her little fem took to the news she had lined up for them. She smiled maliciously. Neither would be pleased, to say the least, and that thought gave her just that added spice to give the edge to a most satisfying evening - and half the night, she acknowledged with a deep yawn and a glance at the stately clock.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘I’m sorry, Jackie, but this operation’s going to soar through the roof as far as our budget’s concerned. We’ll have to curtail the surveillance. DS Wills and DC Harris are both trained in electronics. They’re perfectly capable of running the monitoring equipment in the van. And that’s costly enough as it is.’

  ‘Willie Wills and Chopper Harris?’ Jackie’s disbelieving tone was eloquent in its scorn. ‘Can you imagine what they’ll make of it? They’ll be setting up their own porn site! At the least they’ll have unedited highlights going out to every cop shop in the county, if not the country!’

  ‘I’m glad to see how much confidence you have in your own team,’ DCS Sharp said cuttingly.

  Jackie had risen from her chair and was leaning forward, her knuckles resting on her superior’s impressive desk. ‘Listen, Boss,’ she substituted the informal acknowledgement of rank in place of the first name, and made a great effort to damp down her seething anger, ‘at last we’ve got the chance to nail Jack Palmer, maybe once and for all. This could be big for all of us, but especially for you.’ She saw the sudden look Moira Sharp flashed at her, as though she had been caught on the raw, and warning bells rang in her brain again. She drew a deep, restraining breath, and carefully sat down again.

  Moira sensed her drawing back and pressed her advantage. Her voice, too, was more controlled, less fraught with tension. ‘You know, you’re making this Palmer business something of a crusade. We don’t want any personal vendettas being played out here.’

  ‘It’s not that, Boss, honestly. He’s been getting away with things recently, getting far too cocky. There’s nothing personal in it, I can assure you.’ She hesitated, deciding she had to acknowledge defeat over the matter of Harris and Wills, and in fact her mouth almost twitched in a wry smile as she thought of how horrified Jill would be at the idea of Willie Wills and Chopper parked in the anonymous white van watching every blow and suck, lick and promise, on the great white bed at 41 Gresham Street. On more than one occasion she had already had to reassure Jill about the presence of the surveillance van, portraying confidence and concern. ‘No, love, of course not,’ she’d cooed. ‘It’ll be the Regional Crime boys doing the monitoring; nothing to do with our nick. And only if we think it’s necessary. It’s just a back-up, a safety net, that’s the idea, to have someone on hand if things start to go at all pear-shaped. I’ve got to look after you. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you now, could I?’ And she reached for Jill
, holding her close, eventually succeeding in allaying her fears.

  Jackie tried even harder to keep her tone impersonal and emotionless. ‘Well, what about someone under cover with her? Someone else on the inside. She’s been with this Liz tart a week now, and we know that somebody’s already been checking on her. I guess she’s been brought to Palmer’s attention. It’s time Jill was producing some evidence of her own, so she needs a client or two. She’s fed the Grant tart the story about Martin Grimmond, the sugar daddy who’s her best customer, so we’ve got to produce him in the flesh now. And I hope you’re not suggesting we use someone from our nick for the role. It’ll be bad enough having Harris and Wills sat out in the van. Pound to a penny one of the useless pricks will pop out for a burger or a piss and somebody will recognise them straight away.’

  Moira grunted and shook her head. She even managed a smile. She was feeling quite pleased about having won the point about the surveillance team. ‘No, nobody from our neck of the woods,’ she confirmed. ‘We’re getting a chap from Hawesgrove. He’s been working on fraud. A DS Pope; should be made up to Inspector soon. He’s been around a bit. Like us, eh? He’s in his late thirties. I’ll get him over whenever you think your girl’s ready to pull her first trick.’ She grinned. ‘It seems like quite a cosy little love nest they’ve got going, her and the ginger tom. You must have your hands full, Jackie.’

  ‘And a very pleasant handful she is, too,’ Jackie added, relaxing a little as the tension seemed to ease between her and her boss. ‘Besides, I know how to keep her in line if she gets a bit flighty.’

  ‘Let’s hope so, eh? You’re not worried she might be getting a bit carried away with all this cloak and dagger stuff? Maybe get a taste for something a bit more exotic, perhaps? Yon brazen redhead certainly seems to be lighting her fire for her at the moment. And how’s she going to play it with this Mr Grimmond fellow, the randy sugar daddy? What if the old camera’s set up to catch them at it? Have you thought of that? Would she be prepared to swing a bit and swallow the salami? All in the line of duty, of course.’

  Jackie felt her irritation surfacing once more. She knew Moira was intentionally riling her for some reason. Probably just to reinforce the idea of her being the boss, a bit of a tug on the chain, just to let her know who’s in charge. Jackie had rather taken on this case as if it belonged to her, had perhaps been a little too offhand about acknowledging Moira’s titular position as captain of the ship, and this was her way of bringing Jackie into line.

  ‘It’ll be her first time if she does,’ she said.

  Moira gaped in astonishment, and then gave vent to her disbelief in a pungent expletive.

  ‘Straight up,’ Jackie insisted. ‘She’s as pure as the driven snow as far as cock’s concerned.’

  ‘How old is she? Twenty-two, twenty-three? Still a cock virgin at that age? I definitely do not believe it. She’s having you on, Jackie, my girl.’

  ‘I swear she’s telling the truth, Moira, honest to God.’ She knew it was safe once more to return to a first name basis. ‘It was one of those après screw confessions. You know, when you’re lying there all sticky and sweaty and worn out, and you’ll confess to anything. She wasn’t proud about it. She was squirming about with shame at admitting it, poor little mare.’

  Moira clicked her tongue in her teeth as though still in denial. ‘Jesus, if that’s true what the hell is she doing mixed up in this present caper? That redheaded dike could have her shafting five clients a night in a day or two, and twice on Sundays! She’ll blow her cover to hell the first rampant dick she sees!’

  ‘She’ll do exactly what I tell her,’ Jackie asserted, with a force and confidence she was actually far from feeling. ‘I’ve got her well trained. She’ll do it for me, if she has to.’

  ‘Come off it,’ Moira countered. ‘You’ve hardly known her for five minutes. I know you have her eating out of your hand, but even you can’t believe she’ll - ’

  ‘Moira, she’ll do it for me,’ Jackie cut her off, politely but firmly. ‘It’s a match made in heaven. We’re like that.’ She held up two fingers, the second crossed over the first. ‘They love a firm hand. You ought to try it with little Blondie out there. Crack the whip a little bit; she’ll love it.’

  The colour heightened in Moira’s cheeks and she drew herself up, her spine stiffened. ‘We’re fine, thank you very much,’ she said indignantly. ‘I know what makes Sandra tick. Anyway, I hope your confidence is justified. There are a few people a bit uneasy about tossing your little rookie in at the deep end like this. There’s lots of sharks swimming about, and I’m even more concerned for her welfare now. We’ll have to keep a very careful eye out for her. I’ll brief Wills and Harris right away and get DS Pope over today. No, it’s OK, I’ll do it myself,’ she said, as Jackie opened her mouth to protest. ‘As you rightly pointed out, Jackie, I’m the one who’s in charge here. I’ll carry the can if it comes unstuck.’ She sat back in dismissal, and smiled brightly to disguise that edge of annoyance. ‘Right, please send Sandra in on your way out.’

  Jackie’s smile was just as bright, and beneath it she was equally niggled. In a mood of devilry she leaned over the seated figure in the outer office and let her fingers very casually brush through Sandra’s soft blonde curls at her brow. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous today, Sandra, honey. But then, you always do. You’ve no idea how creamy you make an old dike like me, have you?’

  The shiny red lips parted in genuine shock and the sparkling blue eyes opened wider, the cheeks highlighted with two blushes of red. Apart from a few deep looks and smiles, DI Barlow had never openly referred to the clandestine relationships decently hidden away from the office and its wanton gossip. Jackie winked and chucked her playfully under her chin. ‘Your mistress calls. Off you go. Lucky old Super. If you were my beauty I’d definitely be your beast...’

  ‘I’d like a word with you, WPC Wise. A word to the Wise, eh?’ Jackie smiled thinly, but it did nothing to ease the flutters of alarm raised in Andrea’s pert breast. ‘In my office, now.’

  With her door safely closed Jackie moved round to sit behind her desk. She did not invite the uniformed figure to sit in the chair opposite, and Andy Wise remained standing stiffly in a military pose, feet six inches apart and sweaty hands clasped behind her back, just above the jut of her clenched buttocks. Because it was still a warm August day she was not wearing her jacket, and her bosom, well cradled in a sensibly substantial bra, strained temptingly against the pristine tautness of her white, short-sleeved shirt.

  ‘You keeping yourself fit these days, Wise?’ Jackie let her eyes wander slowly over the full figure with lingering enjoyment, mainly from the discomfort she could read in the girl’s stance and the expression on her pretty face. ‘You look as though you could do with losing a few pounds here and there.’

  Andy felt the warm red tide sweeping up from her collar. ‘I play tennis, and swim when I can. I play hockey for Benbrough Ladies in the season. We’ll be starting training soon.’ Jackie waited, eyebrows eloquently lifted, and Andy realised what the pause was for. ‘Ma’am!’ she appended hastily, and felt her blushes increasing.

  ‘Maybe it’s your lack of height that makes you look a little dumpy. The uniform does nothing for a figure like yours.’

  Andy said nothing. She seethed, but her ire was tempered by her nervousness. She knew that the old butch was after her for something, and it must be bad otherwise she would never have called her up directly. The rocket would have come through her own superiors across the corridor in uniform branch.

  ‘I’ve heard you’ve been shooting your mouth off about our covert op in Gresham Street. Been chatting up your pals Harris and Mills over here. You’re very pally with my lads, aren’t you? You’re always over here, given half a chance.’ She let the distraught girl begin a stammering excuse, then held up her hand and cut her off in mid-stream. ‘I’m not bothered about you
having hot pants for CID, but I won’t have you jeopardising a sensitive operation like this one. You know we’ve got the new kid, DC Christie, in under cover. It could be very dangerous, and I’m not bullshitting, if word gets out to the wrong people. And the folk we have in line have very big ears, and fingers in all sorts of pies. I won’t have some loose-knickered little tart fucking it all up, to say nothing of dropping one of my team in some very nasty clag. Got it?’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Andy’s heart was racing now and her eyes were wide with dismay. ‘I wouldn’t... I haven’t talked out of turn, not outside the station, Ma’am, I swear it.’

  Jackie shook her head. Her mouth was pursed severely. She was enjoying herself. She derived a keen sense of pleasure from the obvious distress this supposedly tough little cookie was displaying. She was feeling a whole heap better already, recovering rapidly from the black mood Moira had aroused by her coming the old high horse and pulling rank on her like that. Two could play at that game, she decided, studying the scarlet young features before her. Tears were not far away, she sensed. She eased back a little, let her demeanour relax a trifle, to one of almost maternal regret.

  ‘It’s a shame, Wise,’ she went on. ‘There’s a few people have had an eye on you - a very favourable eye, I might add. We were expecting big things of you. I heard you were even interested in coming across to us. Plain clothes job.’ She shook her head again, in regret rather than anger this time, and almost heard the little mew of pleading as the girl gazed at her. The dark eyes sparkled with the tears they held.

  ‘Oh please, Ma’am! I’m sorry; I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I was just so keen - I mean, I am! Interested... I’d love to transfer to CID... when I’m ready, I mean. When you think...’