MAUREEN PORTMAN<br/><br/>Everything about this made me curious. Everything. Every detail. The way negotiations were handled and forms sent; the money that appeared in my bank account and on the day, the pilot who escorted me past the goggle-eyed tourists queueing at the check-in desks through a discreetly marked 'VIP' door and into a limousine that drove us to a waiting jet.<br/><br/>And the jet! Wow. Nice. I am not sure what it was, possibly a Lear but that is the only make of private jet I know so it might not have been.<br/><br/>The flight was very long from London Heathrow. There was one cabin crew lady who made sure I had drinks and meals and who converted the wide comfortable seat into a bed when the sun went down. I slept soundly to the gentle drone of engines, strangely comfortable knowing that I was being looked after so well. The efficiency and smoothness of the whole operation from form filling to a gently spoken,<strong><em>"Good morning, Miss, we are about to land soon. If you wish to freshen up, the wash room is at  the rear there and when you are done I can serve breakfast. Juice? Coffee? Ham and eggs?"</em></strong><br/><br/><strong>"Uh? Hnn? Oh, please. Oh, good morning. Uhm... Just juice and coffee please. And have you any yoghurt or fruit? That will be fine, thanks."</strong><br/><br/>I stripped in the small bathroom and washed as well as I could, putting on clean underwear from my hand luggage and a fresh blouse and skirt. Feeling adventurous and a little frisky I chose to wear a suspender belt and dark charcoal stockings too - they matched my grey satin bra and panties. I brushed my teeth, packed away, had a quick squirt of<em>Arpège</em>, fixed my make-up, fluffed my hair and was ready. My blouse was bright orange silk and my skirt a black knee length pencil design with a kick pleat. My heels were black to match the skirt.<br/><br/>Breakfast was waiting when I exited the wash room and thirty minutes after that the stewardess asked me to put my seat up and fasten my belt. I glanced out of the window but could see only hills rugged and bare below me, with a splash of what looked like jungle on a plain in the distance and the azure of a sea in the tropics beyond that.<br/><br/>With a roar of engines and a bump we were down and taking my hand luggage bag on it's shoulder strap I carefully descended the small plane's steps and was directed across a flat dusty... well... desert, I guess to a small administration building that had a control tower and a slowly turning radar aerial on top. There was just a helicopter parked a little way from the building and no sign of a car or official greeting.<br/><br/>Walking carefully in my four inch heels I picked my way via the flattest and least stony path I could find and ten minutes later was beginning to wonder where I was and what on earth I was doing here. The clerk who had signed me in was silent and apparently disinterested in conversation despite my attempts at small talk. The paper I had signed looked like his doodle pad that would be thrown away tonight. In fact compared to how efficient and formal everything had been up until now this place had me more than a little worried. I did consider that since this was a test that this weird reception might be a part of that test and cameras were watching my reaction and therefore I sat on one of the padded seats and did nothing.<br/><br/>After twenty minutes the sound of a jet could be heard and the roar of engines announced another plane landing. I waited five minutes and then the door opened and a woman came in.