The frustrating thing about the way Kara had managed to keep herself safe was that she’d had to surrender her freedom of movement to do it. Yes, now that Hofmann had been downed, there was no threat from the girls of the academy; however, many of those in attendance had looked very clearly as if they could handle themselves. Others had security with them.

All she could do in the first few hours of freedom was wait and wonder. She’d opted to call Swiss Fedpol rather than the local authorities; this had taken a little extra research to do but she couldn’t help worrying that local police might be in on this; it would be, she told herself, a precaution she’d take if she was a criminal operating out of a fixed location.

She was a little unhappy with herself that this had become something she had opinions on.

When Fedpol arrived, the lead investigator was a Monsieur Keller. Keller was a tall man, but not physically imposing; when you looked at him, the word ‘skinny’ would spring to mind long before ‘slim’. He had that way some people do of seeming like they’re the wrong build for their body, and his wire-rimmed glasses gave him a softer aspect rather than a sterner one.

Fortunately he had not come alone; even so, a few of the auction’s customers were able to reach their cars and head down the road, escaping through an overstretched cordon of law enforcement. But as Keller remarked, laughing, when he had finally made himself known to Kara and entered the room with the landline, there was enough distance from the nearest settlements on the road that arrangements could be made to detain the cars.

Kara had the impression, at first, that Keller was taking all of this far too casually; his attitude seemed amused, more than anything else, by how much panic the arrival of his team had caused at Meillures Filles.

Everything about that changed when she showed him the remote control, pointing it at Dai Lu and hitting another of the buttons. Immediately the Chinese beauty moved position, joints audibly clicking after remaining still for too, too long; Kara blushed at her own oversight in that, then blushed again at the pose Dai Lu settled into; she knelt, body straight vertical above her knees, hands clasped behind her back, chest pushed out on prominent display, eyes wide open but not as wide as her mouth, which formed an eager, cock-sized O of a receptacle.

“Christ,” Keller had said. “She was so still I truly didn’t see her there…”

Kara shrugged, as eloquently as she could, and removed the mortar board before plucking the control band from her head. After a few moments in which Dai Lu did not respond, it occurred to her to also remove the watch, and she was relieved to hear a sudden start as her breathing went from minute, almost unnoticeable movements to something less monotonously automatic, to see eyelids flutter as her gaze cleared.

Dai Lu blushed as deep as either of the other two in the room, and Kara held out the control band to Keller, keeping the remote to herself for the time being - she still wasn’t entirely confident that handing over the full control mechanism would be good for anyone. “I don’t know where Hofmann got these,” she said.

Keller was looking between the two of them slowly but his earlier good cheer was gone. “My god,” he said slowly.

“Not something you’ve dealt with before?”

Keller shook his head. “Usually when we even hear about this kind of technology, it’s supercrime or espionage,” he said. “Occasionally corporate. But it’s something I’d have to escalate, as this sort of thing usually crosses borders.” He caught sight of Kara’s wince, and visibly thought things through.

“Am I right in thinking you don’t believe this is the first time it’s happened?”

“It’s… more that I’ve witnessed at least one overseas sale,” she said. “I didn’t realise at the time, but…”

She went into the story of the night Celmira disappeared.

She couldn’t look at Keller at any point while recounting the tale. It wasn’t just to hide her own embarrassment; she was trying to avoid, as much as possible, admitting to times she’d been affected by Hofmann’s control. She didn’t want any of that on record. Didn’t want to be embarrassed.

He was pursing his lips thoughtfully by the end. “I don’t know what we can do for your friend,” he said. “It kind of depends on what the Saudis are prepared to concede to Interpol. But I’ll file the report and we’ll see what we can do.”

Kara nodded. “I, uh… I’m willing to bet this wasn’t the first year Hofmann did this, either,” she said. “Probably two or three.”

Keller raised his eyebrows, but she didn’t explain the maths that led her to that conclusion. Little bits of Hofmann’s programming were still present, and there were boundaries to where her thoughts could take her; nonetheless she was still clear in her conviction that this technology must have come from Bimbeau, which gave her a surefire upper limit.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find out,” he said reassuringly. “When you traffic in people on… shall we say a bespoke level? I can’t imagine Monsieur Hofmann hasn’t kept records somewhere. He might have hidden them in code, but I’m sure they’ll be recoverable.”

Kara nodded. She handed him the remote control with one hand, which gave her an opportunity to palm the flash drive she’d plugged into Hofmann’s computer with the other.

She was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed.

*

Mike was back at Meillures Filles by nightfall; she was one of the girls whose new ‘owner’ had made it to a car in the commotion. He’d tasked Mike with driving, which made both Mike and Kara believe he had to have known her before she came to the chalet. The chase had taken them as far as Yverdon-les-Bains, but much to her owner’s dismay, they hadn’t ever lost the police - so boarding a plane to get out of the country wasn’t possible.

Mike had left him behind in police custody and hurried back to the chalet, having heard from the police that it was now a safe venue.

A couple of the other students who’d been taken had already been recovered and brought back, and Kara had found herself running through what had happened three times already before Mike arrived.

Kara had noticed that the newest students - the ones who hadn’t even been presented with their watches yet - took the news harder than those who had been directly affected. Even Darcy, who had had very little to do with Hofmann and hadn’t been around long enough to receive the graduation trap (as Kara was now thinking about it), was less freaked out than Colleen - and Darcy had been one of those affected.

Kara concluded that their erstwhile teacher hadn’t just been suppressing memories but had also implanted some kind of suggestion that had acclimated the girls to being controlled. It was probably a way to reduce resistance.

Mike and Kara took one of the good bottles of brandy and went up onto the roof of the chateau that night, where they drank under the stars until both of them eventually passed out. They dozed, fitfully, for an hour or two; but even in summer, out in the open on the flat, hard roof, it was too cold to sleep there all night. Kara roused Mike and they went downstairs.

*

“Daddy? It’s me.

“Yes, graduation was wonderful. I… no, I can’t say that. Listen, Daddy, uh… you’re going to hear some awful things in the news, but that’s why I’m calling first. I want you to know I’m alright.

“It’s OK. I did OK. I’ll tell you everything when I’m home, and I hope you’ll be proud.

“But I, um. Ah. I have something I need to do first.

“I’ll be home in a week, OK? And don’t worry, Daddy - I’m not going anywhere alone.” Her jaw set determinedly. “I’ve got friends with me.”

*

It hadn’t escaped Kara’s notice that what she’d told her father wasn’t a million miles away from the lie she’d have told him if she hadn’t managed to break free. Even though she’d told him the truth, she felt as guilty as if she’d lied.

She and Mike had hatched the plan while they’d been drinking. To their way of thinking, it was far too likely that Celmira’s owner (and they found they did think of him that way, even as they recognised his ownership was entirely unjust) would be able to keep her. The investigation might never get anywhere. If it did, she might be hidden first. And of course someone who was willing to buy another human was unlikely to be above bribery and corruption in order to keep them.

Kara had a copy of all of Hofmann’s coded records, but no idea how to decode it. There had probably been a program on his computer, Darcy had told her, that would have done it as soon as he entered a passcode; that computer was now somewhere in a Fedpol station, as the dilligent Swiss investigators tried to crack the code themselves. Not knowing what to look for, Kara hadn’t copied it.

Cracking that would be something she’d work on whenever she could, she was determined, once she got home; but it wasn’t necessary to find Celmira, who had been active on social media since arriving. The control band had her playing the role of trophy wife, as far as Kara and Mike were concerned; that, too, was another worry. Her owner had married her, was legally her husband.

It seemed unlikely that under the laws of his land anyone would free her from him simply because of a strange story from Switzerland.

That was why Kara and Mike had, for want of a better way to explain it, talked each other into stealing a small plane, an amphibious six-seater propeller plane which, once they’d flown it down to southern Italy and refuelled, was just about in range of their destination.

The rest of the plan, they intended to make up as they went along. Time was of the essence.

“Coming up on the border,” Mike reported. “I’m going to fly along the coast for a while.”

“Looking for a way in?”

Mike shook her head. “No, just camouflage behaviour. The rich families follow the rules, but some of them like a drink - and since you can’t drink in the country but they have money to burn, they’ll hire a pilot to fly laps right outside the border.

“This janky old thing isn’t on the level of the planes they hire, but I’m hoping copying them on radar will mean nobody looks close enough to question us.”

Kara accepted that with a shrug. There was no point trying to override someone who knew more than you, and she was willing to listen to any source of knowledge she had available.

“At least we know where she is.”

“Assuming they haven’t moved her.” Mike sounded much more matter-of-fact than Kara, but she also seemed far less optimistic.

“If they have…” Kara sighed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

*

The estate Celmira’s owner-husband lived on was well away from the nearest town and could be seen from some distance out when approached by air. More than one hill was encircled by a gleaming white wall; the main building sprawled over one entire hilltop, and to its rear, an incredible amount of money had clearly been spent to create and maintain an artificial lake, crafted as a massive crescent and ringed with trees.

“Well, we have our landing strip,” Mike muttered. “But we’re going to have to act fast from there.”

Kara nodded. “They’ll know someone just flew in. This is a smash and grab.” She paused. “You should stay with the plane. There’s no sense in both of us leaving it.”

“I kinda hate that idea.”

“Actually…” Kara blinked, then smiled. “I think I’ve got a better one.”

*

Kara threw open the passenger door and leaped. Mike had brought the plane down low, thirty feet over the water, and she knew the impact would hurt; but if the plane never landed, security would be less suspicious, especially if they didn’t notice her falling from it.

It had all seemed like a brilliant idea before she was in mid air without a plane to carry her. The surface of the lake hit hard, but thankfully her old school swimming competition reflexes kicked in; while her brain was wholly occupied dealing with the intensity of the impact, she still kept from gasping for air and her limbs re-oriented her from dive to horizontal, bringing her back to the surface to get her bearings.

Kara immediately made for the shelter of the trees and watched Mike fly off away from the estate. Looking down, she saw a jeep heading over to the estate walls in the direction the plane had gone, and smiled; the most alert of the security was heading elsewhere.

She broke from the treeline at a run, heading up the hill as quickly as she could. Too much of this estate was open ground; stealth was not an option.

The big problem on her mind was the sheer size of the house. Searching the whole thing could take hours, and if Celmira moved, Kara could easily miss her. So where was she most likely to be?

The answer turned out to be a home gym on the second floor, with tall windows looking out over the estate. Celmira was busy on the elliptical trainer, wearing a sports bra, skimpy lace panties, and her headband, with her long dark hair all drawn up through it, a band at the top of her head giving it structure to cascade down from. At home her owner-husband clearly didn’t care about concealment.

She didn’t even wear socks; the old saying about keeping women in the kitchen barefoot floated through Kara’s mind.

Kara moved forward and a board creaked under her foot. Celmira stopped working out instantly, turned her head, that long mane of hair whipping around the topknot tie.

They’d nearly been friends, at one time, of course. Kara raised both hands. Smiled gently. “Hey, I’m-”

The other woman dismounted the elliptical and charged her, head down. She moved with grace and fluidity, not following a specific order but instead behaving according to the rules the headband had instilled.

Kara managed, barely, to sidestep the first charge; she hadn’t been ready for this, but evidently Celmira’s owner-husband must have built in some programming against any form of rescue.

Celmira caught her in the ribs with a kick and Kara doubled over, yelping with pain. The punch that followed caught her on the top of the head and must surely have hurt Celmira more, but her brainwashed body gave no indication. She didn’t slow down.

Kara fell back, wished again she had more than basic self-defence training. Celmira wasn’t exactly an expert combatant, but Kara could do with a way to get the advantage and none was presenting itself.

She met the next charge with a hastily raised knee, deflecting the impact and staggering her opponent. On impulse she snatched the control band from her head, Celmira spinning away as her hair trailed free of it.

The other woman didn’t stop. This wasn’t orders, which could run out. This was still all programming, and that would continue running until it wore off or she was shocked out of it.

Kara blocked a punch and swung with her other hand, and it was only after an audible thunk that she realised what had actually connected with the woman she was trying to rescue was the metal control headband. Celmira reeled back, and Kara decided to take the opportunity. She surged forward, getting a shoulder under her schoolfriend’s arms and boosting her up as she ran for it, doubling back toward the stairs, hoping to be out of there before there was any trouble.

She should have expected that Celmira would scream, but she didn’t. Plunging out of the door into the estate, she ran full tilt toward the lake, silently praying and wondering how long she’d have to sit on Celmira before the woman would stop trying to make Mike turn the plane around.

This, she decided, was the problem with improvising a plan; unless you knew plenty of the variables up front, you’d just end up troubleshooting it in real time.

Running hell for leather toward the lake, she was aware of security bubbling out of the house behind her, answering the woman of the house’s cries with shouts of their own. She could hear the engines of the jeep as it returned.

And - joy of joys - she could hear the roar of the plane as Mike swooped back in.

She heard footsteps closing on her, spun on the spot, and her arm whipped out, throwing the control headband. It caught the closest guard on the nose, but she only barely registered that; she was already turning again, already running. Celmira was struggling now, trying to get free, and the downhill was hard to keep her balance on as it was.

She overbalanced, losing her grip on Celmira as she did, and the two women hit the slopes hard, almost bouncing as their momentum carried them further on, further down.

Everything had hit hard, everything ached. Kara managed to regain her feet just yards from the water, as Celmira was struggling to her knees. Kara grabbed out, catching her by her long hair, and kept moving; the other woman, scrambling to her feet and yelling, was swept along by momentum as much as anything.

The floats of the plane hit the water just ahead of them and Kara half-shoved, half-threw Celmira forward. With a startled cry she stumbled in the boggy ground at the edge of the lake and fell in, a huge splash marking her impact.

Kara plunged in after her. Staying close was the only way to be sure the guards wouldn’t try shooting her.

*

She was surprised to see Celmira climbing in through the plane’s door before her, and hurried in cast something was going wrong, but Celmira was shouting “Go, go, please go” and as soon as Kara was on the float, Mike opened the throttle back up wide, taxiing forward.

The guards only started firing when there was clearly no other way to keep Celmira on the property, and by that stage it was far, far too late. Mike went straight for the border, and Kara, to her surprise, was helping Celmira buckle her seatbelt.

“I don’t think they can respond in time,” Mike said, “but I’m going to have to go low over the water and dodge the radar so they can’t just track our destination…”

“Michelle?” Celmira asked, startled. “Kara? You - what-”

Kara blinked slowly. Slapped her forehead. “Going into the water like that,” she said. “Was that where you woke up?”

“I - kind of?” Celmira frowned. “I feel like I’ve been awake the whole time. Just things - suddenly changed. And I knew I didn’t want the life I’d begun.” She frowned. “What’s happening?”

Kara took a deep breath.

*

It was more like two weeks before she finally set eyes on the family home again. It happened that the taxi covering the last leg of her journey arrived in the mid-morning, but as she hauled her bags out of the boot, she heard the crunch of shoe on gravel and looked up to see her father standing there, smiling broadly.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’ve been waiting,” the big man said softly, and he opened his arms wide. Kara stepped into his embrace, squeezing him affectionately.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said, “just as soon as we get inside. But I’ve missed you, and I’m glad to be home safe.”

“Me too,” he said. “Me, too.”

*

She’d been back at the family home for four days before she went up to the attic. She’d just finished lunch, her father was out of the house, and she’d found herself a timer plug.

She changed into the flimsiest nightgown she owned, a confection of blue-dyed silk that looked at all times ready to disintegrate, and set the timer for two hours, then turned on the doctored television.

She took up position on the old sofa, made herself comfortable, and looked up toward the screen, where her attention was immediately, compulsively, drawn into the centre of the strange, dancing, spellbinding static that always seemed just about to settle into a pattern.

Kara was dimly aware of her jaw slackening, was unaware of her eyes unfocusing, was rapidly unaware of anything at all except for the blissful sense of peace.

There were no thoughts anywhere to be found in her head, only a vague expectation that at some point she would hear a voice, which she would obey or answer honestly as appropriate.

The still quiet came with a humming contentment, a euphoria bubbling under, a strange heat that was everything she’d enjoyed about Hofmann’s devices without any of the sense that someone she disliked might take control.

Two hours later, when the screen clicked off, she rose back to consciousness only slowly, her thoughts very vague. When she moved, she discovered her pussy was sopping, her thighs slick, and the wetness of her drool on her nightgown went from something she was idly aware of to sharp focus.

She sat quietly as her own mind slowly, gingerly, pieced itself back together again, and she smiled a broad, foolish smile.

Yes, she thought. She’d had to do that again.