Chapter 2 - Take Five Girls
Let me try to explain how things work. Take the five new recruits I mentioned
before. As far as they have thought, up until now, I have been representing a
graduate head-hunting organisation. In a sense they are right but their
underlying assumptions about the nature of my business are, of course, wrong. To
them Heads You Win Ltd. has been spotting potential high-flyers for a graduate
training programme. Right again but wrong, if you see what I mean.
As a result of our initial discussions they were all looking forward to the
chance of being taken on by a major multi-national enterprise that would give
them the opportunity to travel and to learn new skills while putting their
current knowledge to good use. And, in a sense of course, they were right. It's
just that I think they formed the impression that it might involve paid work and
that they might have some choice in the matter. So now the five of them are on
the first stage of their new career without having to do anything more than turn
up at the confidential interview sessions that my business invited them to.
(By the way, this has to be one of the easiest ways of doing this job that I
have found. My candidates arrive of their own accord. They have been
particularly secretive about their opportunity in case any of their co-students
should get to hear of their good fortune. As a result they walk in wide-eyed and
willing with no one to miss them for a while and no links to their abductors.)
So what of our five new recruits? They are all now in what we call the staging
post - a large house that we use between the various recruitment interview
venues and the airfield where our export facilities are located.
In the basement of the staging post is a series of small rooms. In the first we
find Debbie Gifford, our medic, slowly recovering from the powerful
tranquilliser that laced the coffee she drank down as we started her interview.
She has just about realised that this is rather different from the hang-over
that she would have had after a late night session on vodka mixes but she hasn't
quite remembered that she wasn't out drinking last night nor has she worked out
why she cannot move her arms or her legs. Pretty soon she will realise that
it's because of the ropes and then the panic will start to set in. That's always
the most worrying time because that's when they can hurt themselves accidentally
and the last thing I need is bruising so early on. Still I will be around just
to make sure she's all right.
Nancy Carter, the engineer, is, however, already well awake. In spite of her
training in the nature of metals she is determined to prove that she can break
out of the handcuffs that are locked around her wrists. It is evidently a
considerable source of frustration to her that the efforts of struggling for an
hour or so have had no effect but in time she will calm down and the grunts of
her efforts will be replaced by a quieter sobbing.
Nancy is still locked in her cell, not yet aware of what has happened to her.
Angela Dennis on the other hand is now realising her fate. Having recovered
consciousness two hours ago, we have brought her up to the office to get her
ready for the next step in her travels. She has coped with the first stage
reasonably well although she's not looking quite the trim, business woman that
turned up for interview. Her hair is rather seriously messed, she has ripped the
side seam of her skirt at some point trying to free herself and she has laddered
her tights, probably in the same way. Elly peels away the strips of tape that
cover the lower part of her face. Angela spits out the wad of cloth that she has
been gagged with and harangues us with the usual round of abuse that we have
come to expect from new recruits - it's quite extraordinary how colourful the
language of even the most respectably looking young ladies can become at this
point. As usual we are told that we have no right to do this to her (almost
certainly true); that she has nothing that we can steal (we know); that there is
no point in trying to extort a ransom (which we don't intend to do); and that we
had better release her (which she doesn't provide any good reason for doing).
She doesn't appear to let the fact that her wrists are still tightly bound with
rope interfere with the vehemence of her arguments. We let her finish. There's
no danger that she can be overheard and she might as well get it out of her
system. I invite her to sit down which she eventually does with some help from
my colleague. It's at this point that I explain to her that if we had intended
to rob her or ransom her that we probably would have been rather more careful to
avoid the risk of her recognising us; that it doesn't matter because its not a
piece of information she will be able to make use of; and that, in a short time,
she will be on her way to her new position. I explain to her that she should be
pleased that the combination of a good degree, a trim figure and attractive
appearance mean that she is a very marketable commodity and that, as a result,
she will find herself a wealthy owner with all the benefits that go with that. I
describe how the laws of supply and demand have created a market in which
someone with her training in business management, understanding of
macro-economic theory and, of course, blonde hair and good tits is likely to
find herself as part of the global cycle of trade. She tries to explain that
people cannot be bought and sold but she obviously has not got to grips with the
features of this particular area of business. In the end we get bored with
listening to her, jam the wad of cloth back in her mouth and add some more tape
to keep it in place. She becomes more agitated, so we add some more rope to stop
her thrashing around and stick her back in a cell. I can't be bothered to
explain to her that she will have to be stripped later on. We'll let that be a
surprise for her.
