Policewoman To Gangsters Moll Pt 02

It was midnight in an abandoned supermarket car park. Two cars arrived five minutes apart. The second car rolled up to the first. Andy was the first to open his window; Rawson then followed.

"Hello, Mr Rawson. What's up ma duck?" asked Andy.

Rawson looked worried. Andy frowned. Rawson was generally happy-go-lucky, so there had to be a problem.

"We may have a problem upstairs," said Rawson

"Better than a problem downstairs," said Andy almost laughing. Rawson didn't even smile.

Oh, it's that bad

, thought Andy. "What's worrying you?" he asked.

"The Deputy Commissioner, John Bailey, is going to announce his retirement within the next 6 months," said Rawson.

"So?"

"The Deputy Commissioner is where the power is, not the Commissioner. The Deputy controls day-to-day operations, professional standards, and Investigations. The Commissioner is just a glorified PR man. My contact at the Home Office tells me that the successor will be one of the Assistant Commissioners," replied Rawson.

"And?"

"Normally I wouldn't be worried, but the current favourite at the Home Office is Lisa McMaster," explained Rawson.

Andy had vaguely heard of McMaster. She had just been appointed Assistant Commissioner from a provincial police force, but had made quite an impression there, having been appointed a Deputy Chief Constable at only 35. She'd apparently whipped that force into shape, boosting its solve rate to the one of the best in the country. At only 40, McMaster is now one of the most senior police officers in the country.

"Why her, and not one of the other 3 Assistant Commissioners?" queried Andy.

"Well, two are older than Bailey, and are already making the rounds for private sector work, so it looks like they are retiring. Burton might get it, but the Home Office think that McMaster is the new face to push out the old guard."

"So, why does this concern me?" asked Andy.

"She's a crusader against anything remotely dodgy - and it's not just that she can't be bribed. She goes out of her way to stop corruption, and ensure the prosecution of bent coppers."

Like you

, thought Andy, although he kept quiet.

"If she gets the job, you can bet your bottom dollar she will be after us," continued Rawson.

"You worry too much, Rawson, take a chill pill," said Andy. With that, Andy raised his window and drove away. Rawson thought for a moment, then he drove out of the car park too.

2 minutes after Rawson departed, another car's engine turned on. That car, too, left the park.

...

[Two days later.]

Rawson found himself in a meeting that was being chaired by Lisa McMaster. After two hours, the meeting finished and thanking them for their time, she dismissing them.

As the others shuffled out of the room, Rawson heard the AC say, "David." Rawson turned round to see the AC smiling at him. "Do you have a moment?"'

"Yes, Ma'am, of course."

"Shut the door please, and take a seat."

Lisa picked up the coffee pot and poured another cup, adding milk and sugar. She gestured to Rawson to see if wanted one; Rawson shook his head without a word.

"So, David," said Lisa, "well done on that drugs bust. A whole Colombian network rounded up. You've got good intel -- where ever it comes from." Rawson looked at McMaster and noticed that her blue eyes contained no warmth. He almost wondered if she was a robot - not married, no sign of any emotional dependency of anyone else. Not that Rawson considered Lisa McMaster ugly. Blonde, with nice cheekbones, she was in fact very attractive, but had deliberately made herself severe-looking to avoid any 'Officer Barbie' comparisons. Rawson thought he could detect a decent sized rack under that uniform...

"Thank you, ma'am," responded Rawson, wondering where this was going.

"There is just one thing." Lisa passed over a folder to Rawson. He opened the folder to find photographs of the meeting between him and Andy that had happened the other night.

Rawson tried to hide his emotions. "Yes, Ma'am that's me meeting a contact."

"One Andy McMinn," said Lisa, looking at her notes. "Suspected drug dealer, pimp, and fence."

"Yes Ma'am'," shrugged Rawson. "He's scum alright, but very low-level. More a rogue than a villain. He's been one of my main sources regarding the drugs busts."

"Is he the sort of person we should be having dealings with?" asked Lisa with an arched eyebrow.

"Well Ma'am, in a perfect world, not really, but he's helped us roll up a number of drug and other criminal gangs."

"I think you need to cut him loose, and stop using him for intel. I've got information that he is much more of a significant figure than you claim." Lisa's blue eyes bored into Rawson.

Shit

, thought Rawson.

She knows

.

In reality, Lisa didn't know anything; she just thought that Rawson's clean-up rate was a little too good to be true. Even without any visible emotion from Rawson, Lisa thought she could detect concern emanating from him. Was he bent, or did he think that without McMinn's tip-offs his reputation might suffer?

"Ma'am, he's a vital informant, and there have at least 2 raids on him. Both times, we got absolutely nothing," Rawson replied, trying not to sound like he was pleading.

"Thank you, David, I've read the background information on McMinn."

"Ma'am, you don't understand. London is different to Devon. You need to fight with different tools here," Rawson almost shouted. He knew immediately that his change in tone had been a mistake.

"Thank you, David. That will be all," said Lisa in clipped tones. Rawson knew he'd gone too far. Lisa knew that many in the Met derided her as a country yokel, too naive to be a cop in a major city. Lisa took that personally.

"Yes Ma'am, thank you." Rawson passed the folder back to Lisa, rose, and left the room without another word.

Lisa leaned back in her chair. All her intuition told her that Rawson's results must be more than luck. She played the questions and possibilities out in her head yet again:

is McMinn a real criminal mastermind? Was Rawson bent, or just someone who thought the ends justified the means - allowing one set of criminals to operate while shutting down the competition?

The discreet check on Rawson's finances had shown nothing unusual, so if he was taking backhanders, it must have been invested in something untraceable. That, or he was clean, and was in fact the super cop that so many others on the force thought he was.

Lisa tapped her pen on her desk. She'd knew she'd need more to take to the Deputy Commissioner to request an investigation. Rawson was the Commissioner's blue-eyed boy, not to mention he was popular with both the press and the police rank-and-file. She knew she'd have to move carefully.

Lisa got out of her chair, and placed the carefully-researched intelligence on Andy McMinn into her personal safe. Locking it, she sat down to deal with the next item of business.

...

Stomping back to his office, both angry and worried, Rawson wondered what he was going to do. He didn't know if McMaster knew, or merely suspected, what he was doing with Andy -- or if she just had a hunch, or if she was just being a jealous hardass. Admittedly, he told himself, that there was no paper trail, or money that could be found easily, but even if nothing was proven, the loss of Andy's intel could be devastating to his career.

He paced up and down his office. Like McMaster had just done in her own office, he went through the questions and possibilities: How long did he have? If McMaster was suspicious, further investigations into him were almost certain. What if they managed to prove a link between him and McMinn? Dismissal was assured; if he was convicted of anything, jail time was almost certain. If he turned grass, there was no way he would be able to escape Andy's clutches. If he did a deal and received a light prison sentence, he would dead within a week. Too many prisoners or prison staff would want to either do Andy a favour, or try to get in his good books by knifing a Rawson in the showers. Andy was bound to have other police officers on his payroll too. If he got a new identity or went into police protection, they'd tell Andy where he was, and then a staged suicide was guaranteed. No... there was no escape from Andy.

Rawson decide that there was only one course of action available. Andy had once given him a package, and told him to only use its contents in an emergency. Opening his personal safe, he opened the package and took out a burner phone. He selected the only number in its memory, and entered two latin words:

periculosum mulier

.

Halfway across London, a heavy-set man's mobile phone flashed up an incoming message.

He passed the phone to his boss. Andy looked at the message. It was Latin for 'dangerous woman.'

Andy's eyes narrowed.

Guess I was wrong

, he thought.

This McMaster bitch may be more trouble than I thought...

...

"Look Ma'am, I know we have not seen eye to eye. Can we sit down and talk about this? I think it's more a question of our different styles of policing than anything else," said Rawson. "It's 7pm, and it's been a long day. Why don't we have a coffee and a chat?"

Lisa looked at him.

Maybe he's right

, she thought. She'd never really worked in big organisation like the Met before, and she was learning that what she'd had to do in Devon didn't always work in London. She couldn't deny that Rawson's approach got results, and considered that perhaps she did need to listen and learn. No evidence from the last 2 weeks of investigation into Rawson had come up with anything incriminating. It painted the picture of a zealous -- perhaps a touch overzealous -- officer of the law.

"Okay, David. Let's have a chat to clear the air."

'Great," grinned Rawson. "I'll make the coffee." One of the perks of Rawson's rank was that he had his own coffee maker. Rawson walked towards the machine.

"Do you take milk and sugar, Ma'am?" he asked. Rawson knew perfectly well that she took both, but he needed to make sure she was off guard so that Andy's plan would work.

"Yes, David, milk and two sugars, please," replied Lisa.

"Ah, sorry Ma'am. Just remembered. My wife has removed the sugar and is making me use these instead, now." Rawson shook a little container of a well-known sweeteners brand at Lisa. "Would these be okay for you?" With his back to Lisa, Rawson smirked.

These aren't sweeteners.

"Sure, I guess," replied Lisa. Rawson dropped two tablets into her drink and took it over to her.

Rawson started talking nonchalantly about the priorities for his area for the next 6 months. Lisa listened, nodding and sipping her coffee. After 5 minutes or so, Lisa started to feel disoriented and sick. Grabbing onto the arm of the chair, she felt like she was plunging through the air towards the ground.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" asked Rawson with faked concern in his voice and on his face.

Lisa couldn't reply. Her limbs were like jelly, and she was unable to form words to respond. Rawson picked up a phone on his desk. "George? Assistant Commissioner McMaster has been taken ill. Please can you ready my car, and I'll take her home?"

Unable to form coherent thoughts, Lisa found herself being walked from Rawson's office towards the senior officers' exclusive lift. The time of day meant that many of the offices were empty or sparsely occupied. A number of officers expressed concern to Rawson regarding the look of the Assistant Commissioner. Rawson reassured them that Lisa had had a reaction to something she had just eaten. Most of the remaining staff had seen her walk into Rawson's office only 10 minutes prior, so they knew she couldn't be drunk. Still, they all reasoned that Rawson was a good guy and was already looking after her, so they did nothing to interfere. Lisa wanted to shout for help; she knew Rawson calling for a car was too pat. Even with her mind reeling from the drugs, she realised that all of this was rehearsed! She knew it: Rawson was bent. Terror washed over her. He was taking her somewhere -- and, possibly, to someone -- and she had no idea where, to whom, or what else they might have planned.

Lisa wobbled out of the lift, support by Rawson's hand under the arm. A black Jaguar pulled up right by the pair. Rawson gently put Lisa into the car. Andy had instructed him not to 'damage the goods.'

Lisa was unable to even sit, and was laid carefully - like a China doll - on the back seat of the blacked-out car.

With no idea of how long or how far they had driven, Lisa tried to listen to any sounds that might help her figure out where she'd been taken once her ordeal was over. Questions ran through her head: Rawson wouldn't seriously be conspiring to murder the Assistant Commissioner?

No

, she thought,

too many witnesses; he's the last person they saw me with.

Maybe this was a slow acting poison?

Again, too many witnesses, and untraceable poisons kill virtually instantly.

What Lisa didn't know was that mastermind of this plot had no intension of killing her. Something, far, far worse was going to happen.

The car turned into an underground garage. Rawson got out of the car, followed by the driver. The two of them lightly pulled Lisa out of the car, and then carried her towards a goods lift. Lisa was still fully conscious, but unable to move or speak. Rawson pressed a button, and the lift descended a number of floors. Eventually, Rawson opened the lift door, and then he and the driver took Lisa into a large basement room. Placing her into what looked like a dentist's chair, facing a big TV screen, Rawson and the driver secured her arms and legs into restraints. Rawson dismissed the driver, telling him to go back to the car and wait there. Rawson prowled the room like a tiger playing with prey. Suddenly, Lisa could here another set of foot steps behind her. Coming into view was...

Oh, god,

thought Lisa.

It's McMinn.

Andy smiled at her. "Welcome to my little cinema room Assistant Commissioner. Please excuse my employee's treatment of you this evening." Andy put his arm around Rawson's shoulder and grinned smugly. "Yeah, in reality Rawson works for me. Helps me get rid of the competition, plus destroys any evidence that might be left around accidentally that could be inconvenient for me."

Suddenly, Lisa felt a sharp pain in her right arm. A heavy-set man carrying a syringe appeared in her line of vision.

"So, the plan is for you to watch a bit of TV now, while we go off and have some dinner. Pizza or Indian then, boys? Indian?" Andy asked the other two. Then Andy took a remote control out of his pocket and pressed a button that activated the TV. "Don't worry, I'll save you a poppadom," he shouted back towards Lisa. The three men walked away from her and shut the door.

Outside the room, Rawson asked Andy, "Are you going to turn her into something like Suzanne Smith?"

God

, thought Andy.

An Oxford education, and he's this thick.

Lisa McMaster wasn't a 20-year-old probationary constable. People were going to come looking for her. Andy knew he wasn't going to be able to turn McMaster into a glamour girl.

Andy wrinkled his nose. "Nah mate. I've got different plans for her. Now, I know a nice little Indian takeout down the road..."

...

Back in the 'cinema,' the TV had sprung to life with a message saying:

subliminal messages will start in 15 seconds.

What the hell does that mean?

thought Lisa. Then she began to feel like she was floating on air. All her cares and worries began to dissipate.

The message on the screen changed to:

subliminal message in 5 seconds.

Suddenly, an octopus appeared on the screen and its tentacles started to swoosh around., Lisa couldn't take her eyes off the lovely, relaxing image of that octopus......

After a few seconds, the octopus disappeared, only to be replaced by an image of naked woman squirming in pleasure. Subliminal messages would flash up on screen telling Lisa how good it was to give head, how much she loved to be fucked by both men and women, that Andy was her master, and that she should always obey him.

After a few hours, Andy, Rawson and the heavy-set man returned to the basement room. Even though the TV had stopped playing, Lisa was still staring, glassy-eyed, directly ahead at the blank screen. Andy was still munching on a poppadom, and wafted it under Lisa's nose. He got no reaction.

"We've really mind-fucked this one," laughed Andy. The heavy-set man produced another syringe, injected a different liquid into Lisa's arm, and then left the room. After 30 seconds, signs of awareness began to appear in Lisa's eyes.

Andy undid the straps holding Lisa to the chair. Lisa stood up and came out of the chair, wobbling slightly, like a foal taking their first steps. Her face was blank - no emotion at all.

"Now, I understand that you upset Mr Rawson here this week, by implying he might not be an honest policeman. Now, as a caring employer, I don't like to see my employees distressed in any way, so I think an apology would be best - and the best way to apologise to him is to suck his cock. So on your knees."

Without a word, Lisa fell to her knees. Rawson approached her, took his cock out of his trouser, and pushed it into Lisa's mouth. Lisa began to make love to Rawson's cock, making little humming noises and clicks as she did so. Her hands started to rub against her own groin. She unzipped her own trousers and started playing with herself. After a few minutes, Rawson came. Lisa swallowed his cum, but a little came out of her mouth, then dribbled down her chin onto her white, police-issue blouse.

Rawson looked down at his boss, with his cum on her face and uniform. With a sneer of contempt, he spat on her face. Lisa betrayed no emotion. Rawson then turned and left the room.

"Well done, Lisa," smiled Andy. "Now, Mr Rawson is going to be very kind, and tell everyone you've had a nasty allergic reaction and need a little break for a few days."

The two of them had already set everything up: cover story, call re-routing, the works.

A few more days will make her my whore

, thought Andy,

truly, a model employee.

Andy took Lisa by the hand and led her towards the door. From there, taking the same lift she had arrived in, Andy took Lisa up several floors. The lift stopped at a large enclosed room, with doors in each corner. There was no natural light, but it was well-lit in a blue tint.

Leading Lisa into the centre of the room, he commanded her to stay. Lisa obeyed without question.

"Let your hair drop," Andy commanded Lisa put her hand behind her head and released the tied bun that held her hair up.

"Strip," Andy said simply. Automatically, Lisa undid her blouse, and then unzipped her skirt. Without her outer garments on, Andy could see that she was wearing a minimiser bra. She brought her hands behind her and unhooked it. She removed her knickers without former comment. Lisa stood nude in front of the most dangerous criminal in London, her clothes a puddle at her feet.

Looking at her, Andy realised that Lisa was, in fact, gorgeous. She had shiny blonde hair; her legs were long and smooth; her snatch was bald, and she had at least DD tits.

Andy clicked his fingers and said to Lisa, "Follow me." Without another thought, Lisa followed Andy towards one of the doors in the corner, which led to a bedroom.

That night, Lisa pleasured Andy on his command. She sucked his cock like a pro, and let him fuck her in any and every position. At first, Lisa was quiet and passive. After about an hour or so, groans of pleasure started to emanate from her while Andy fucked her from behind. Her brain was slowly beginning to reactivate, and Andy was determined that it would be rewired to suit his purposes.