(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/LindaAvatar05.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Linda Tuchamba</span></span><br/><strong>Location:</strong>Nice BAF office.<br/><strong>With:</strong>Nataliya Kobevko (in the van), Veronica Downing, three NPC women captives, A corrupt BAF official known as Gaston (NPC)<br/><hr/><br/>The redhead just didn't know when to quit. She spat at me and I leered back at her. I usually enjoy watching them fight, but for some reason ai got a bad feeling as I watched this one. Gaston camd and stood beside me and counted out the cash for the other three. "They will fetch good prices", he told me in French. "But this one? Oh la la! This one is English. The English do not make good slaves except in England, Non? I cannot take her. She... Pierre, you fool, hold her! As you can see, she would never pass muster. It will take three months to break and train her, and any trainer will not buy her for more that sixty percent discount. I can offer you twenty percent of DMV?"<br/><br/>I looked at him and shook my head. "Gaston, you know me better than that. DMV would be what... Fifteen? Three thousand isn't going to pay the customs squeeze, let alone the provisions for the trip! I need at least six."<br/><br/>I looked hurt. Gaston shrugged. "Don't give me your Arab sob story, woman, you have the profit from the other three. Besides, it is I who takes the risk here. You get caught, you end up like them. Me? I loose everything! Three nine nine five is my best offer."<br/><br/>I sighed. Nearly four thousand Euros. Twenty percent if the Designated Market Value of the slave were twenty thousand. "I could get more selling her on the black market... Hit the bitch... Oh for fuck's sake" The redhead had all but struggled free of the two guys holding her, who had made the mistake of hauling her to her feet. She was glaring at me with intense hatred, and I sensed that given the chance she would try and attack me. I pre-empted. I happen to know a fair bit of Savate (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Savate). Not a black-belt or anything, but I learned the basics while I was growing up, before being shipped off to Algeria when the slave law came in.<br/><br/>The heel of my left foot connected with her breastbone right between her boobs. I was still wearing my rope-soled deck shoes, so the kick was softened slightly.<br/><br/>"Fucking cunt slave! You try zat again and I keell you!" I said in English. Then to Gaston. "I see what you mean."<br/><br/>Gaston was shaking his head. "You want to take your chance on the black market, go ahead". He shrugged. "Here", he fished in his pocket and pulled out a collar. "I take no responsibility." Gaston made a show of wiping his fingerprints off the collar, then handing it to me. That was a surprise. I didn't even know he carried collars on him, let alone would hand one over like that. I'd taken the thing before I'd realised.<br/><br/>"Hey, sexy-slut, put this on the redhead", I told my slave, seeing her standing near the open back of the van.<br/><br/>"No! No! Not here. You activate that here, it will flag up on the BAF computers. You take her away and do it. Across the border!" Gaston seemed genuinely concerned by that so I agreed.<br/><br/>"Belay that, cunt-licker. We'll put the collar on her later. Back in the van then..." The two heavies had hold of the redhead again and tossed her roughly into the back of the van, then strapped her down again. The back doors slammed shut, sealing her into the dark. "You drive, sweet, I'm shattered." I climbed into the passenger seat and watched my pretty slave climb into the driver's seat. I was asleep before we left Nice.