Pages - Book 2: Pages, #2

By EA Harwik

Pages, by EA Harwik - A modern family saga.

Pages will question and define the boundaries of normal in modern society. Where secrets challenge the fabric of friendship and family.
Book 2 - ISBN: 9780980677645

• Language: English
• Publisher: EA Harwik
• Release date: Jul 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9780980677645

Book preview

Pages

(Book 2)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or part by any means without the written permission of EA Harwik.

Published by EA Harwik

ALL DETAIL CONTAINED within this publication is fictional. Characters and happenings exist purely within the author’s imagination. Any semblance of persons, living or deceased, is coincidental. All reference or likeness to factual matters, events or localities has been used in a fictional context.

Pages – Book 2

by EA Harwik

Chapter 21

TARMACS ARE ALWAYS cold. Geilenkirchen on an overcast March morning was particularly so. Though Billie didn’t seem to notice she was wearing jeans and a tee shirt having declined the coat Anke almost begged her to wear.

Billie’s eyes were glued to the E-3 sentry AWACS moving slowly along the taxiway. When the sentry stopped short of the runway, obviously waiting on an arriving aircraft her eyes wandered further out to find the landing lights and bulk of the approaching C-17. Even further out another landing light was shinning star like above the horizon.

The C-17 pilot put the aircraft down well, though such planes never seem to display any grace about the process. There was no loud reverse thrust to stop. The pilot obviously deciding to let the plane roll for ages along the two-mile runway before turning off onto the taxiway. Billie continued to mindlessly follow the plane. She was drawn back to the here-and-now only when she sensed the gathering of officials beside her weren’t all air force and customs. A small group of reporters were set up filming the approaching light, which was now clearly attached to the undercarriage of Elizabeth’s Aardvark. Billie observed every detail of the plane feeling something approaching parental pride witnessing the smooth professional approach, timely throttle-reduced flare out, gentle touchdown and effortless deceleration. Elizabeth turned off the runway short and was waiting to follow the C-17 when the sentry passed behind her, reminding Billie she’d forgotten to watch it build up speed. She’d never witnessed one take-off but knew they cut an agonisingly slow path to the sky. Oh well next time.

Customs were efficient so it didn’t take long before Anke took possession of a wildly happy Trent who was suitably rested and ready to build a chook house. Billie was instantly attracted to the intelligent aware and curious little man, who spoke with a maturity many might find off putting from someone so young. She loved how he could fly halfway round the world alone without displaying concern or being adversely effected by jet lag. She introduced herself with a reciprocated handshake explaining she was the carpenter hired to help build the chook house. With the introduction over she picked him up placing him on her shoulders; seemed the thing to do. She asked him to keep an eye out for anything they might hit their head on but her primary purpose was to secure his safety with people and cargo now shifting every-witch-way.

Trent introduced Billie to Jamie then started unloading ideas about what his chooks wanted for their house. It was a pleasure to hear how much he’d thought and planned for the project.

Elizabeth managed a modest hand wave and smile before exiting the plane. No sooner had their feet hit the ground, Elizabeth, Mr Peep and her Grandma, Amelia Chase were pounced upon by the press. Grandma had much to say. She’d enjoyed her luxurious nostalgic flight. It had been over sixty years since she last delivered an air force bomber across the Atlantic. The last journey had taken five times longer with the noise bordering on unbearable and they were never certain where they were. She liked having a digital map displaying the current location all the time and loved refuelling in the air. Times were changing for the better. She invited the press to return in ten years. She intended to make the journey again as a centenarian.

Took sometime to re-locate Jamie. He’d wandered off after being introduced. They found him helping the loadmasters unload the plane. The teenager was beaming. This was already his best holiday ever. He had a signature in his work experience diary. Everyone at school would be jealous.

One look at the luggage was enough to have Anke arrange delivery in an air force van, which included Billie’s tools. Malem and Joanne’s containerised possessions would be stored on the base until they arrived to decide what they wanted done.

Anke invited Elizabeth and her Granny home for some breakfast and a shower. They had a few hours before the next leg of their flight, which was to Toulouse France to meet up with Elizabeth’s mother who was undergoing type training on the new Airbus A380. All three women would talk to the press together. Three generations of fliers. The whole exercise was to promote air force recruitment and give the new Airbus free publicity.

BILLIE EXCUSED HERSELF and slipped into Wendy’s office while the others were chatting over breakfast coffee. She phoned Michael and asked him about his trip. He was happy, all praise and thanks over the use of her bike. He was in love with the V-Rod’s purr. When Billie put her question to him Michael clearly remembered being quizzed about his destination, the bike and the bags. He thought the guy a bit weird, too curious to be making small talk. Michael gave a good description of the man including his base security vehicle and was sure he’d recognise him and his distinctive voice again. Offered to help with anything without knowing what the problem was. They talked for a few minutes about bedroom furniture and how the girls were keen to be involved as furniture testers.

Next Billie talked to Elizabeth, told her what she knew and of the specific threats to target her. She used Michael’s description of the likely plant on Ellsworth and was relieved when Elizabeth was sure she knew the man. He had approached her several times asking questions but never about flight destinations or departures. That information he must be obtaining from another source.

Confident she was doing the correct thing Billie phoned Wendy and conveyed what she knew. At Wendy’s request Billie sent her copies of the logs and data capture. She was given authorisation to discretely monitor the situation. Billie told Wendy she’d met her son and was working on his project. She handed the phone to Trent to impart all the details plus assure his mother he was home safe and sound. Trent thought he should stay home from school all week to help Billie. Judging by his expression he was overruled. Jamie spoke to his mother offering the same assurances before Anke chatted with Wendy and hung up.

By the time Anke drove Elizabeth, Mr Peep and her Grandma back to the airport Trent and Billie had settled on the best location and design. They had the building marked out, post holes dug and were keen to have Anke drive them to the lumber merchant to order supplies. As soon as the tools arrived on site it would be all go-go-go.

While waiting Billie entertained Trent showing him how to plait hair. They worked as a team creating pigtails in Billie’s hair so he could hang on and steer from her shoulders. Trent liked being up there.

PITURI DOWNS

The light aircraft flight to Alice Springs was purgatory for Wendy. She sat in the rear seat with her leg jammed between the cabin wall and the seat in front, where there wasn’t enough room for a bent leg to fit let alone a straight one. Her foot ached from lack of circulation and her mind kept chewing over how apt of the owners to display Hope Air along the cabin. When they finally arrived in Alice Springs she needed Clancy and Kaiser to untangle her leg, lift her bodily and manoeuvre her through the small door like a plank of timber. Message to self, if there is a next time fly on the C-17 and spend a night on the floor with the girls like she does all the time in the AWACS anyway.

Settling in her Sentry was pure bliss. The moment they were airborne she fired up her console and located the C-17 with her son onboard. They were overflying Istanbul, two and a half hours flight time remaining. She spoke with the pilot to establish Trent and Jamie were clean, fed and well rested. They were currently seated behind the pilot quietly sightseeing. Wendy declined the offer to speak with Trent wanting him to remain calm. She’d phone to welcome him home.

Next she pulled up Elizabeth’s Aardvark to establish they were midway between Newfoundland and Ireland. Projected computer modelling indicated they were tracking the C-17 with a predicted intersect location while approaching Geilenkirchen airbase.

Finally she checked on Jason and found his plane on the ground at Bagram with no scheduled flights for the next twelve hours.

She wasn’t sure he’d be happy. Two months at Bagram would pass slowly for Jason. He hated barracks life as much as Bagram. Though most did. She checked her watch and decided not to call him at four in the morning. She didn’t want to wake him and would probably become annoyed if he was up playing cards. She’d phone later at a reasonable hour before they reached the Seychelles. If he was in bed she could put two and two together and give him an earful while he’s tired.

She then showed Marge and everyone interested what she was doing. Marge marvelled at seeing a little triangle pointer moving across Turkey identifying where her son was. She found it comforting. Wendy showed them their own flight plan to the Seychelles and locked a trace on the tanker from which they would refuel in around six hours. Again Marge felt pleasure knowing the plane her son was travelling on also re-fuelled from the same service station. Wendy ran a reverse trace on the C-17 flight to show where and when their fuel link-up happened.

In what seemed like no time they were on the ground in Darwin talking to the waiting foreign affairs representative. As a form of thank you Wendy invited the man onboard. People in foreign affairs have the same mindset all over the world. A quick glimpse inside a classified spy plane would be a worthy story to share back at the office with envious administrative colleagues.

Within ten minutes the plane was lined up ready to return skyward with Marge’s handbag now containing family passports. Next stop Victoria on the Seychelles ten hours travel time away.

For an hour out of Darwin Wendy spent her time researching and preparing for a meeting to brief personnel at the destination. Satisfied she was adequately prepared she turned her focus to something more interesting.

While seated away from the others she used the privacy to pull up everything she could find about Sister Veronica and the Benedictine Sisters of New Norcia. The first thing she found was curious. The Sister was a long-term guest at the New Norcia convent. She actually belonged to the Sisters of St Joseph of the Sacred Heart. Seemed strange, though to Wendy everything about an intelligent person deciding to become a nun was strange.

Records within the Catholic Church are always impossible to access so she relied on newspaper articles and such to develop a timeline relating to the nun’s activities and movements through the past. To the best of Wendy’s understanding Sissy V had been a nun in excess of thirty-five years, spending a large portion of that time working as a volunteer with the distant education program providing support for children and parents in remote locations that relied on education offered via the school of the air.

Wendy laughed quietly at how many times she came across images displaying Sister Veronica in a habit astride the motorcycle behind a topless Billie in the mardi gras parade. Which was also curious because nowhere on any of the captions did her name appear. It seems someone made the connection and cross-referenced the photos without tagging a label to any of the images. A search on Billie found the same photos plus a few other items that took Wendy’s eye, which she would return to. For now the Sister was her focus.

She quickly established there wasn’t much more detail to be uncovered so changed tact. Taking the information from the passport on the flight manifest. She searched for Vera Jane Wotton of Wiluna, Western Australia. Seventy-three years old. Wendy couldn’t help looking down the plane at the nun who was preoccupied entertaining Kelly and Helga. She looked fifty. Though common sense dictated she’d be older, never would she have guessed the woman was over seventy.

From a well-to-do upbringing the daughter of parents who maintained ownership of several mining ventures primarily gold and tungsten. Attended a private boarding school and studied medicine at the university of Western Australia. Upon graduation with honours she spent several years working as a doctor in Afghanistan and briefly in Pakistan before returning home to practise medicine in Perth. She attended University part-time completing a master’s degree in medical surgery. Her thesis was on microsurgery techniques. She continued to work in private practise and lecture at the university medical faculty. And pioneered the introduction of laparoscopic surgery in Western Australia.

At the age of thirty-six she ceased to practice medicine and quickly bowed away from the public gaze. She surfaced briefly a few years later when her parents both died suddenly. Together with her only sibling a brother they set up a charity with their inheritance. The Vermatt foundation quickly became an active component in local philanthropy circles. There area of primary interest being scholarships to assist disadvantaged children, primarily from remote areas, to complete their education. The charity was and still is big news though the sibling owners Vera and Matthew Wotton have taken a back seat and shy from public scrutiny. She completed a philosophy doctorate by correspondence while clearly a nun. Curiously she graduated in the name Vera Jane Wotton. Her thesis made interesting reading from the very first line, The Impact of a Multi Gender Workforce and Female Empowerment through Education on Modern Society. Wendy again looked at the nun and remained focused on her for some time.

Eventually she pulled up Matthew Wotton and found a few old photos plus official mug shots. Bingo. She smiled with success. Knew where he lived. She again looked along the plane and saw Marge sitting with her daughter. They were holding hands chatting and sharing a rare window to gaze over the ocean below.

Wendy wondered if Marge knew who Matthew was, or Sister Veronica? She suspected not. There was more behind the relationship of Marge, Sister Veronica and Matthew than a chance meeting on a remote property. Anyone with a curious mind and eye for detail can see this.

Matthew Ralph Wotton aged sixty-five finished secondary school with unremarkable results and worked his way from labourer into middle management at the Wiluna gold mine. At the age of twenty-eight he pleaded guilty to a charge of assault causing grievous bodily harm and was sentenced to fifteen years incarceration. He was released on parole after ten years.

Wendy pulled up the charge sheet. It was the usual: On or about... The accused Matthew Ralph Wotton did assault Douglas Peter Saxon, a University postgraduate science student and undergraduate tutor, in an unprovoked attack causing grievous bodily harm. The accused rendered the victim unconscious then with callus disregard and surgical precision removed the victim’s genitals. The urethra opening was relocated appropriately for such a procedure before professionally stitching the wound closed.

There was much legal conjecture as to whether the accused had the knowledge to perform what amounted to a professionally conducted surgical procedure, even maintaining a sterile environment without any medical training. Though it was equally discussed how the accused had ready access to medical journals being in close contact with his sister, a surgeon who lectured at the same university as the victim. No motive was ever discovered or explained for the attack. Rumours relating to allegations of sexual misconduct complaints about the victim were disregarded at the sentencing hearing because the accused pleaded guilty without contest or explanation. Plus the victim had committed suicide some weeks earlier hence no victim impact detail was relevant.

Wendy sat in deep thought for a long moment watching the sister while subconsciously tapped a finger on her teeth. She searched for information on Douglas Peter Saxon and read enough to establish she had the correct person. She drilled into his employment record and found several documents alleging sexual misconduct directed at the victim by students, which didn’t appear to have been investigated or handled well. As she was about to finish up she noticed something unusual. Delisted documents. She asked herself the question, ‘Why would pre-computer documents be digitised only to be delisted?’ Strange. She followed the audit trail into the national archive employment history documentation knowing such documents relating to student teacher interaction, qualifications or skills should be kept for ninety-nine years. The search was fiddly and took awhile. Eventually she found the folio numbered files hidden under miscellaneous administration. The documents all referenced Vera Jane Wotton’s statement alleging being forcefully set upon and raped by Saxon in an unoccupied staff room at the university faculty of medicine. The document referencing the rape was marked unproven, no collaborating evidence by an internal conduct committee.

Saxon had added a document stating this was a bold attempt to smear his good standing. There was another document submitted by an Associate Professor of Chemistry, Douglas Peter Saxon senior. The woman’s fantastic scheming is the real issue to be addressed. It’s an example of the problems society will face more and more if government continue to support the notion that woman should be educated. They take jobs away from hard working family men. Equality is not and never was part of God’s plan. The document summary sheet noted no further action required and was signed off by the university dean.

Wendy shook her head. Not surprised they tried to hide this document. Curious it didn’t find it’s way to Matthew’s sentencing hearing. She searched for Douglas Peter Saxon Senior and felt richly rewarded reading he’d died years ago of a long painful illness. He lived in a nursing home and had no surviving relatives.

Wendy nodded approval as she tidied up her work and tagged the session active-incomplete, meaning she intended to revisit the files and wanted them all copied and stored into her current portfolio. She terminated her session and returned the screen tracking the plane’s flight before hobbling to the kitchenette to make coffee for everyone who wanted one and cool drinks for smaller folk.

The casual chat that followed was interrupted for Wendy by Billie’s phone call with her news relating to the men searching for Femme plus a security breach at Ellsworth.

Wendy immediately returned to her desk fired with a new priority. She looked at her watch and quickly phoned her boss at the Pentagon to brief him of the situation. Within two minutes the problem was a registered security threat and catalogued as such. Wendy hung up armed with the authorization to act. She called Clancy, Kaiser and Sister Veronica to the desks beside her and chased everyone forward in the plane so no one could sit behind them and watch what they were doing. She allocated Clancy and Kaiser a task to identify the players in the Colorado City sheriff department, locate and trace their whereabouts at all times. She also asked them to go through the bank statement she had on file to identify and locate all military personnel receiving salary payments in the account.

She sat Sister Veronica down with her and pulled up Femhe Heinemann’s social security details explaining how the girl was in danger and the key to identifying a major security threat to an air force base where strategic bombers are located. As she built up a profile of Femhe Wendy watched with interest, impressed how quickly the nun read the files identifying relevant information for the timeline they were building. They covered the girl’s upbringing and treatment, running away, the slow struggle to gain independence and eventually success. Wendy could sense the intense emotional impact Femhe’s story was having on Sissy, even before the kidnap, forced detention and rape by a person who pledged to uphold the law, assisted by the male members of the girls own family, materialised.

The Sister emitted, God. What disgusting animals. Poor child. Something needs to be done about this.

Wendy turned her head and looked over the glasses she wasn’t wearing. Oh I assure something is being done. If you wish you can be involved. I said we do good work from up here. I meant it. Wendy didn’t think it prudent to explain the files they were now reading about Femhe weren’t coming from public records. They were her personal classified summary of events and being loaded to the screen as if found externally. She looked pointedly into the Sister’s eyes before softly saying. I think you’d better prepare yourself for quite a shock.

Wendy bought up the documents pertaining to Femhe’s escape. The method and route used to travel away. She allowed the sister time to absorb the content then hit the keyboard to load the satellite archives she’d prepared that would relay over time a hologram of the activity within the dinner in Rapid City. In fast-forward the screen displayed Femhe working long hours and as the relay continued her obvious pregnant stature.

The Sister shook her head and again emitting. Poor child.

Wendy put her hand on the Nun’s arm, I hope you’re ready for this.

They watched the pick up truck drive into the car park. It took a moment for the nun to realise the first person to exit the vehicle was Elizabeth. In fact she identified Billie and Elizabeth at the same time as they sat at the dinner counter. She was quick to notice the instant rapport between Billie and Femhe. The nun nodded approval as events unfolded. Her response to Billie obviously preparing to stay the night was to say, Do we have to witness everything?

Wendy glanced and arched her eyebrows, You need to toughen up if you have plans to do this job. Yes. We regularly need to watch unpleasantness and violate people’s privacy. She smiled and added, Nothing happens. I suspect you taught Billie to respect a ladies honour.

The nun glanced, spared a smile and returned to the screen in time to watch the deputy sheriff walk in, the confrontation and subsequent result.

Without a word Wendy stopped the diner stream and switched to a map display, which scrolled quickly through an archive of satellite located vehicle movements. It showed the Mohave county sheriff vehicle with four occupants moving along the Interstate network toward Rapid City, how it stayed a night at a compound near Pringle before a single occupant drove to the confrontation they’d just witnessed. It showed Femhe and the other air force people leaving in their vehicle.

Aircraft came on the map, displayed a label identifying each person as they relocated into the planes and over a few hours flew to Whiteman. They viewed the trip to the farm where Femhe stayed before each of the planes went there separate way. Sister Veronica’s eyes struggled to follow where Billie had been, as planes criss-crossed the globe with people tagged to them. It took Wendy’s finger to draw her attention back the sheriff vehicle travelling to Whiteman and back to Pringle only to return to a location just north of Whiteman a few days after the three planes had arrived and left.

The planes continued to flow. She noted Billie flying past Rapid City then across to Europe via the Arabian Sea and Afghanistan. Then Elizabeth’s plane relocated to the same place and back to Rapid City before heading further west, across the Atlantic to the same location as Billie then south to a location in France. The screen slowed to real time leaving only one plane in the air. The one they were travelling on.

Wendy checked on Clancy and Kaiser’s work nodding approval while pointing to three names she wanted followed closely, Femhe, her mother and a stepsister.

She allocated two more tasks. Organise a comprehensive fly-over of Colorado City and Hildale by a Global Hawk. Have the plane x-ray all the compounds where each of the sheriff’s staff live. Build a three-dimensional map of each complex and do the same at the Pringle site. She wanted recommendations for a plan to get men in and out of each dwelling without causing another Waco.

Wendy looked at Sister Veronica. Well are you interested in helping?

The nun looked serious. I’ve no idea how I can help but you certainly have my interest. Billie said she’d met someone. She even told me they were going to have a family like everyone else. She smiled, Billie will make a wonderful mother. Then frowned. But only if Femhe is safe from those... animals? Yes. I’ll help in whatever capacity I can.

Wendy pulled up her satellite link again and loaded the Page residence in Kentucky. She let the hologram find Femme in the lounge room kneeling in front of Marjorie while massaging her feet. The two women were chatting comfortably.

Wendy looked at the Sister who was studying the image. Would you like to hear what they’re saying?

The nun looked at Wendy, disapproval on her face. Definitely not. She shrugged, Is that something you can do?

Wendy flicked a switch above her head so they could hear the conversation. Marjorie and Femme were talking about the wedding. Wendy reached up and turned the sound off. Saying, Sometimes we need to. It’s our job. A respectable job in the national interest. She looked into her companion’s eyes. Like listening to those thugs to discover what they’re up to. She turned on another screen and cut and pasted from the audio conversation Billie sent earlier. Where the deputy sheriff openly bragged about mistreating Elizabeth, Pinkie and Billie so they’d beg to die. She placed the conversation segment screen closest to the nun and turned to watch her response.

The nun answered, Yes. I understand. And tightened both hands into fists.

Wendy pulled up another image, one of her own house. She didn’t need to penetrate the building. Billie, Jamie and Trent were all outside erecting posts. Wendy’s face softened as she watched Trent standing two rungs from the bottom of a stepladder, away from the construction proper. He was occupied aligning his vision along a string making sure the posts were straight. A captivated, important intensity displayed on the boy’s face. It was marvellous to witness how Billie could look-after and entertain her active, curious and excitable little man. As she watched Billie moved across and lifted Trent onto her shoulders. Wendy noticed he was wearing clothes she’d not seen before, blue dungarees, a tool belt that he had to hitch up regularly, brown work boots and a yellow hard hat. While Jamie held the tape measure near the ground Billie reached up locating the correct height with her thumb on the tape so Trent could position the square and mark the post with a pencil line. They marked another seven posts before Billie and Jamie both repositioned the string and placed Trent two rungs higher on his ladder to continue string watching while they used the power-saw to level all the post to height. Her little man was working the string safely out of harms way without even knowing they were treating him as a child.

You’ll cry if you keep watching that work site Iron Maiden. I think I can assume you’re showing me your son safely home. Wendy felt a squeeze to her hand, glanced then wiped her eyes before sheepishly smiling at the nun.

She picked up the phone. Hello Mrs Page. I hope you’re enjoying your daily foot massage. Wendy smiled. Oh a little bird tells me things. It’s actually Femme I’d like to speak to if you don’t mind. Could you hang around please to offer comfort? What I’m about to ask may upset her? I’ll let her tell you about it. But I’ll tell you this. I’m going after those bastards who attacked her. They’re all going to jail and they’ll be there a long time. Wendy smiled, Ciao. Mrs Page. It’s always a pleasure.

Wendy waited, Hello Femme. We haven’t actually met but that’s going to change shortly. I’m Wendy, Kelly’s friend. Femme have you ever been in the army or the ready reserve? She listened. Okay. So you’ve never been to an open day at a reserve unit or anything and put your name to paper expressing a casual interest to join or something like that. Wendy listened again. Good. I knew that but I needed to hear you say so. I’d like to ask you to do something that will seem unreasonable however I assure you ultimately it’s for the better. Wendy waited a moment. If I set up a secure link with people monitoring everything would you phone your father and talk to him? I’d like you to say some things for us and ask him to leave you alone. Wendy listened and frowned. It will be okay Femme. We’re going to start pushing him using means that will render him unable to fight back. We want to get him raving mad so he passes out threats and makes mistakes. When he does make a few good mistakes we’re going to put him in jail. I’ll tell you exactly what to say. I’ll even arrange for Billie to be with you. And I promise your father won’t be able to trace the call. Wendy hesitated, Well that’s not true. He will trace the call to somewhere else and when he sends people to get you, you won’t be there but we will. We’ll have people there to arrest him and his cronies. Wendy listened and smiled. We’ll keep doing this until we have them all. Only then will you truly be safe. Wendy listened. Yes I know. But this is the best way. Talk it over with Mrs Page and with Billie when she calls later. And when you’re ready we’ll turn the table on your horrible father and all his sidekicks.

Wendy waited. Okay Femme. You’re very brave. Wendy’s tone hardened a little to something approaching normal, Wait. Ask Mrs Page to turn the television on and set it to channel ninety-four on the satellite network. Wendy listened. Okay Femme. Put her on. And stay where you are there’s a little show scheduled to come on made just for you. Wendy waited, Yes Mrs Page. I know channel ninety-four has nothing on it. That’s why we can use it. It will only be a short film. Something for Femme. Wendy leaned her head and lifted her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear while reaching above her head flicking switches. With her other hand she toggled through several screens and even reached under the desk to pop several circuit breakers. She typed on the keyboard, Chook House Construction Site by Billie Page, Jamie Page and Trent Maiden, which came to the screen. She reached across in front of the nun and loaded the screen with a satellite image above the Page ranch and zoomed in again eventually the image entering the lounge room of a large house where Mrs Page was talking on the phone while playing with the television remote control and Femme sat watching with a puzzled expression on her face.

Both women’s eyes grow as the television screen in front of them comes alive matching of the text on Wendy’s screen. Then she flicked screens to spool the satellite stream of the chook house construction showing Billie, Jamie and Trent. Wendy turned on the sound so the three could be heard talking about keeping everything straight.

Wendy picked up another phone and dialled, Anke. I’m assuming you’re in the kitchen slaving over a hot stove preparing lunch for your work crew. Would you be a darling and tell the three of them to look up, blow a kiss and say something to Femme. And while you’re walking tell me who dressed my little man in work clothes? Wendy smiled and waited. Then said. Okay. Tell Billie I’m starting to like her, only a little mind. Don’t go overboard with praise. But before you say that tell her to face bearing two one seven, azimuth five nine. She’s such a geek she’ll know what that means.

Wendy stopped speaking as Anke came into the streaming video frame on the screen. They listened as she spoke and watched Femme’s expression on the screen in front of Sister Veronica.

They heard Anke say, I don’t know. Wendy’s playing games. You’re supposed to wave and speak to Femme. And... She said something about fifty-nine Aztecs. Anke handed the phone to Billie.

The moment the phone reached Billie’s ear Wendy said, Bearing two one seven azimuth five nine. You’re live. She waited a moment. Tell my little man mummy is waving.

Billie looked around inspected her watch. Raised a hand and seemed to cut segments in the sky before pointing. She then walked over placed Trent on her shoulders and pointed again saying. Mummy is up there waving at you. If you wave really hard she might let you stay home from school tomorrow. They both began to wave. Billie blew a kiss and called out. Love you Mummy Page. See you as soon as this little guy’s chook house is finished.

There was a few seconds delay before Wendy’s voice spoke over the top of every one. That’s all folks, get back to work. Femme I want my feet massaged one day. She cut the voice feed off on the satellite and spoke into the phone. I’m impressed. Really impressed. Thank you Billie. I want to have a chat with you later. Phone me when you stop for lunch. Ciao. She hung up.

Sister Veronica spoke, I’m impressed too. She shook her head. Very impressed. I had no idea things like this were even possible. Thank you. This is all a little scary. I know many who would be at one with God’s plan spying upon everyone like this. They’re all crazy.

Wendy looked at the Sister pretending to ignore what she’d just said. They’ve both legally changed their name. In Femme’s situation the details of who she now is and where she resides must remain a confidential imperative. Not to be shared with anyone involved with her past and her past identity mustn’t be shared with anyone she meets in her new life. She has a new birth certificate identifying new parents and new place of birth, plus identifying documents to match those details. She’s now Femme Fatale Page. Wendy arched her eyebrows. "Billie picked the middle name. And your Billie is no longer an Angel. She’s officially Billie, Billie Bunt Page.

Colour suddenly drained from the nun’s face prompting Wendy to ask. Are you okay?

The Nun lifted her head but not to look at Wendy. She nodded a yes while waiting to find words. Her eyes were red. She dropped her head and breathed twice. I’m fine. I... She’ll be pleased. She’s always hated her birth name, which is why she invented Billie. Obviously Page is to share a family name. Why Bunt.

I don’t know. I’ll ask. Is there a problem with the name?

The nun crossed herself and looked forward along the aircraft cabin as if seeking solace. No... No not at all. Just seems unusual even for Billie.

Wendy smiled at the nun’s reaction. Seemed incredibly silly to always do a biblical wallet, watch, etc check in preparation for twisting the truth. She’d always believed a good lie required impeccable presentation or it wasn’t worth the trouble. But than nuns probably need different morel standards. She would ask Billie about her new middle name and try to discover what past ghost was roused to cause this new intrigant. As she thought she set up her screen with a slide show of static images taken of a security guard and his vehicle. She dialled on the phone. Michael. It’s your favourite Colonel, Wendy Maiden. She waited a short moment. Do you happen to have a television close by with satellite reception? There was a short delay. Okay. Could you turn it on and set it to receive on channel ninety-four please? I am assuming you’re alone. I want to show you some images of our man of interest at Ellsworth. Need to make sure we have the correct person before we put him in the hot seat and impose free speech. Wendy smiled as she listened and shook her head, Don’t ask. I’m in my office. We have quite a few direct links to big brother here. I’m going to scroll through a number of images. Let me know when you’re satisfied we have the correct person. She waited. Thank you Michael. I won’t give you the grateful nation speech but take it from me I’m very glad you cracked this one. Helps us all. I’ll be in touch and let you know how we get on. Ciao Michael. Thanks again for this.

She hung up and looked at the nun. So? Do you want to stay and play God with this equipment? We’ll give you a one-year contract to start you off. I won’t insult you by talking salary but at some stage we’ll need to have that talk. I only have one request a personal thing. Could you wear that cross thing inside your clothes it makes me nervous. I have enough trouble with my conscience some days. I don’t need that thing staring at me. Wendy shook her head. I can’t even begin to understand why a successful intelligent person would become a nun. Like, if you were straight out of school and obsessed with believing all that God stuff. But thirty-six and successful... I guess there will always be things I don’t understand. She nodded. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. Ignore me. I shouldn’t have said anything. I guess I’m a confirmed non-believer who will never be one of the flock.

The nun looked at Wendy while she slid the large crucifix into her blouse and seemed to tuck it into her bra so it would stay there. She seemed amused. It’s okay. I should take it off. But... I’ve been wearing it a long time. She glanced at the cabin roof a moment and pointed at the console in front of her seat. This is very interesting... very, very interesting. I would love to follow through on this Femme thing. As for a year let me sleep on it. I think I need to see what task comes next a few times. She shook her head for her own benefit. I might as well be honest with you. You seem to know my age. You obviously know a lot more about me than anyone else has been able to uncover. She took a long breath. I already know I can rely on you to be discrete. I’ll start at the start. I don’t believe the God ever after stuff. I’m smart enough to understand when we’re dead, that’s it we’re dead. But I can overlook that. I believe in what the nuns try to do, even though few succeed. I do good work helping people in the outback. And I think I’m more successful and useful to society doing so. Being a nun helps give me credibility. She looked down. I get to wear jeans to work. Not bad for a nun. It’s okay. But I wouldn’t recommend it as a career choice to anyone with a functioning brain.

Wendy stared. You don’t believe in everlasting life? She shook the confusion from her brain. You gave up your life to serve God?

I didn’t. I became a nun to stay in contact with my brother.

Wendy closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. Oh God. I’m confused. I’d have believed you better if you’d crossed yourself.

The nun smiled. There was amusement in her eyes. Don’t beat yourself up, it’s simple. My brother went to jail. He was permitted one visit per month. I needed to support him better than that, as much for my sanity as for his. The nuns walked in on mass every week and stayed all day offering spiritual support to their flock. Most of the men they visited were faking just to have someone from outside to talk to. The nuns were so up themselves they couldn’t tell. A few nuns even worked there helping prisoners read and such three days a week. Sister Veronica displayed a cheeky expression. The solution seemed easy. They’re desperate to attract new blood. Especially mature age confident fund raisers who can negotiate with investors, organise excursions with spiritual purpose and don’t have buckteeth, thick glasses, a brain full of scrambled New Testament phrases or an unnatural lust to lay awake waiting for their womb to be serviced by God.

Wendy looked at the nun, looked away, shook her head and returned her gaze to the amused nun’s eyes. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re more cynical than I am.

The nun waved a hand dismissively. Might seem far fetched. I’m telling the truth. Around the time Matthew went to prison I was experiencing a good double dose of self-doubt at least six times daily. Then my stupid brother goes and confesses to a crime I know quite well he couldn’t possibly have committed. She lifted both hands in an involuntary little wave. Becoming a nun was perfect. I completely vanished, covered from head to toe with a new identity. It was the last thing anyone expected of me. I even needed to visit a police station to alley their concern and have them stop printing missing person reports. They were sure I’d been murdered. And I got to be with my brother regularly. No one ever suspected we were related. As it turned out I needed his reassurance much more than he needed mine. He thought fifteen years of prison infinitely more acceptable than father sending him to a gold mine for life. Within a month he was tending injured wildlife, nursing them back to health and getting them ready for release into the wild. The nun smiled warmly. "He saw the irony in that. We both did. It set him up for what he wanted from life. He nursed an injured wedge tail eagle back to full strength. She lived in a box in his cell for two years. He called her Freedom. Every day they would both put the exercise yard to good use. When he finally released Freedom she circled him as if to say thank you and flew off."

Every spring Freedom returned with the same mate to raise three new fledglings on the windowsill outside his cell. Freedom did that for seven years. On the day Matthew was released Freedom was sitting in the car park waiting for him. They sat together on the curb beside my vehicle and preened each other for at least half an hour. Freedom stood over three feet tall by then. She flew along side our vehicle until we reached the edge of the forest where she dipped her wing to wish Matthew well and flew off. The wardens tell me Freedom has never returned. She looked at the ground and blinked a few times. Her voice became ragged with emotion. Neither of them did. Matthew found Pituri Down and has never wanted to leave. He never will. The nun looked up and watched Clancy and Kaiser walk toward them. Would you please be extra discrete with our secrets? Marjorie doesn’t know any of this. Least ways I like to think no one knows. It’s easier to be who we are this way.

You're safe. I’m in the find out and not disturb anything business. Wendy grinned at the screen in front of her, We both are now. She looked straight at the nun. Why do you stay? Why did you stay?

I don’t really know. Once I thought it was the singing. Most of the career nuns aren’t worth knowing but at night they put their voices together in harmony. Hymns saturate the corridors with the warmth of raw joy floating on the air like enchanting feathers that massage all the anxiety inside my brain. The only symbol of kindness ever likely to be found within the walls of a convent, any convent. She looked at Clancy who was now close enough to touch. Maybe it’s an escape, a wall to hide behind. Maybe I feel needed. Perhaps it’s my way of feeling nothing. Or maybe it’s easier to avoid finding somewhere else to belong. It doesn’t matter much. My life doesn’t mean a whole lot to anyone except perhaps by a few who don’t need me. They function properly anyway. I suppose it’s as complex as why you shuffle about on a leg so poorly reconstructed after an obvious major trauma. I know for a fact you’d be better off going under a more skilful knife. Particularly these days.

Well you deflected that well. Do you miss sur... Sorry. We’d better get back to work. Wendy smiled and winked with a flick of her head, indicating Clancy. We’ll talk later. I might loosen you up later today with a good wine and a beach backdrop.

WENDY PICKED UP A PHONE and played with the console in front of her. Hi. You guys hungry or would you prefer wait until after you refuel? She waited. Okay. I’ll find a trolley dolly and have her ready in half an hour. Turn your forward cameras on and have the tanker boom operator do the same. I’ll capture both transmissions back here to entertain our guests with your incredible skills and raw courage. She gave a small chuckle. True. When you’ve done with refuelling we’d like you to alter course a touch to the south and overfly the Chagos Archipelago. We need to run a few tests. I’ll square everything with the paranoia fraternity and get them to give you official confirmation. Ciao.

Wendy placed her security token on the table and used the same phone on a different frequency. Scramble. She pressed a button on the console and continued. Authority hotel-echo-six-three-four, She waited an instant and read from the security token. Pin, one-three-eight-two-five-four, Another moment of silence passed. Correct. We desire to alter course to overfly the Chagos Archipelago with our monitors active. We’re on a training exercise. Instruct our friends not to respond or react. We don’t need the publicity. Our destination is Sierra Echo Zulu out of Delta Romeo Whiskey. We’re flying without an escort for another two hours. We need something chatty below us to calibrate some equipment. She waited a moment. Thank you. Out.

She looked at the nun. Shortly I’ll show you what we do best up here. First we’ll eat and watch a short movie. We’ll need to be back here all bushy tailed within an hour.

JAMIE PLACED HIS END of the beam in the pre-cut join and marvelled at the snug fit. He’d done everything himself, almost didn’t need to be secured. He reached across took the drill from Billie and quickly drilled a screw starter base into the bottom of the holes already positioned and drilled on the jig. He hung the drill between himself and Billie, inserted the first screw and secured it in place. As he repeated the process he noticed Billie was ready for the next beam.

This is fun. No stupid fumbling getting in each other’s way with no idea what to do next. It’s brilliant working with Billie... working for Billie but you’d never know. She’s so clever. Everything falls into place. Has everything organised, leads by example, knows what comes next and shares her thoughts so everyone is involved. She expects everything to be perfect and makes it easy to achieve. Nothing like the chaotic mess they create all the time at school. Hurry up then wait while the teacher makes excuses about what he neglected to explain.

He bent down to retrieve the next beam. Without a word Billie leant down with him. As they lifted the beam into place Jamie said, Billie who taught you your trade. I’d love to be as good as you. If we were at school we’d still be discussing where to put the timber. And we’d have to move it six times before the first foundation hole got dug.

Billie gave him a glance, smiled and quoted George Bernard Shaw. "Those who can do. Those who can’t teach."

Jamie smiled and glanced. While waiting for the drill he said, But someone must have taught you. Do you need an apprentice? I’m not sure mum would let me leave school and come to work in Europe. She might if we both spoke to her. Jamie took the drill and spoke as he used it. If you’ll have me.

Do you want to be a carpenter?

Not really. Yes I suppose. It’s a trade. Something I can do with my hands. Don’t suppose I should have said that. I’d like to work on our property but mum insists I finish school. She wants me to go to university. When I tell her I’m not smart enough she just looks and asks me to try harder. Says I’ll be more use on the property with a degree and everything will make more sense when I’m older.

Your mother sounds sensible. Billie leaned down with Jamie to pick up the next beam. Jamie education is important it’s the key to everything that matters. But the only thing you’ll learn from schooling is how to learn to do things for yourself. Billie spared Jamie a quick look and handed him the drill. Case in point if we couldn’t communicate we’d have trouble building this chook house. If we didn’t know how to use power tools it would take us a lot longer and if we didn’t know the science behind structures it wouldn’t stay up. Billie took the drill and shrugged. Our job is to adapt what we’ve already studied so we can apply ourselves to new tasks. The more we learn the more we can take on. They reached down together to pick up the last beam. To answer your question I’d love to employ you as my apprentice. But I’m not a qualified trades person. Building things is just a hobby I enjoy. I have a job and we’re not busy at the moment so my boss sent me here to do some building.

Really? You’re the best tradesman... sorry person... carpenter I’ve ever seen.

Billie stepped off their platform and collected Trent on her shoulders allowing him to test the beams for strength by pulling on each one. She looked at Jamie and said, Perhaps that’s because I’ve been to university and learnt to apply my schooling to whatever task I’m doing, which at the moment is carpentry. It’s fun to create something by hand see it materialise, be used and appreciated. It’s good for my ego.

What did you study at university?

Originally a Bachelor of Science then a Masters degree in Avionics and I’ve also completed a Doctorate of Philosophy with a major in electronic security and computer forensics. I also added a Bachelor of Aeronautical Engineering to my resume fairly recently so I can certify aircraft design modifications.

You’re kidding me. That can’t be true. You’re so accurate. Our manual arts teacher tells everyone academics are too stupid to do anything creative. Are you really a doctor?

Your woodwork teacher doesn’t sound like a very good role model. It’s quite inappropriate for a teacher to talk to students in that way.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Should I?

Billie put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder and squeezed. I’m glad you did. Do you like him as a teacher?

No I don’t. He’s not particularly organised and always blames something for preventing him being more ready. He’s the rugby coach as well. Spends a lot of time making rude remarks about women and I don’t think he should do that.

Neither do I. Have you told your mother?

Mother! No. God no. She’d go tropical. She’d complain to the school and ban me from playing rugby. She’d probably make me give up woodwork.

Billie looked up at Trent. What do you think Champ. Are we ready to lay the floor?

Trent nodded his head positively.

When we get the floor in place you’ll need to test it by having a sleep. Make sure it’s comfortable while we construct the frame at the other end. You won’t be able to slack on us if you can’t sleep the chooks won’t be able to either. She turned back to Jamie. Why don’t you complain to the Head Master, House Master or who ever? It’s important to stamp out sexism. How would you like to be a girl and have someone making derogative remarks because of your gender? Men shouldn’t be allowed to treat women as possessions and teachers should set an example. Billie looked at Jamie and saw he was thinking. Tell you what you make a complaint and if it gets you into trouble I’ll go to the school and make a complaint about the way you’ve been treated. And if that doesn’t work we’ll both tell your mother. How’s that?

Jamie nodded several times. It’s worse than what I said. There’s a girl in our woodwork class and he treats her like a second-class citizen. He keeps her isolated and when we need to work in pairs he only allows her to work with nerds who have no idea. She’s smart would do a lot better if she was able to mix with the rest of us. Jamie looked at his feet a moment then back at Billie. "He talks about her at Rugby training. Tells everyone they shouldn’t allow girls in our school. Hints someone should teach her a lesson. And he talks about her anatomy. What she’d look like in the shower. All stuff like that. He refers to her as the slope. It’s cruel. The girl is very pretty, has a lovely smile. Looks a lot like your friend Elizabeth."

Billie’s eyes almost popped then closed into slits. That’s wrong Jamie. We have to do something about this. If you’re in a boys school how come she’s there?

She goes to the same school as my sister Peta. There school doesn’t have a functioning manual arts centre yet. This year three girls wanted to study woodwork and started attending our school for lessons. The other two girls only lasted a few weeks but Mitsuko is determined to stay. I used to speak to her but the teacher has banned us from talking and makes us work on opposite sides of the workshop. Last week I arranged to meet Peta at the shopping centre. Mitsuko and her sister were there too. Her sister Kimi is also at the same school. She’s Peta’s best friend. They’re both thirteen and do everything together. Anyway Mitsuko doesn’t really care what the teacher does. She’s determined to keep attending and learn how to make things out of wood. Said she knows a girl who builds aeroplanes. And girls have always put up with negativity to get what they want. Jamie smiled like he respected the girl’s metal. What she needs is a signature in her schoolbook to say she has work experience. It equates to twenty percent of our mark in the end of year exam. The teacher won’t recommend her to any local builders. She was hoping to find work in the holidays but her parents are going to Europe and won’t let her stay at home alone. She was really peeved. So was Kimi."

Are you talking about Mitsuko and Kimi Yamashita from Barkley Station?

You know them?

Yes I know the family. I built the girls bedroom furniture. I suspect I’m the carpenter Mitsuko referred to. Billie smiled and rolled her eyes. I’m a girl.

Jamie grinned. I can tell you’re a girl. She told me she wants to be a pilot like the carpenter and be skilful enough to build her own plane.

Billie folded her arms front and back and bowed like a child. That would be me. Captain Page, US Air force at your service. Do you know where Mitsuko is staying? If her parents are agreeable she may like to help us build this structure. I’ll sign her schoolbook. I’ll sign yours as well. Billie grinned. I’ll say we built a hanger large enough to house twenty flying machines.

Jamie grinned and looked at the chook house shell. They were going to Lugano in Switzerland. Her parents are attending a Wagyu beef producers’ conference. Mitsuko and her sister will have to hang around the hotel all day. It’s ironic because Peta was mega jealous and now Peta is on her way here as well. Is your name really Page? It’s mine as well.

Yes. Page is my married name. The Yamashita family know me as Billie Hope.

And you’re in the air force. Did you really build your own plane?

Yes. I’m a Flying Officer in the Australia air force currently attached to the US air force. I’m not a pilot I’m a weapons systems officer. Billie grinned. Like riding shotgun on the stagecoach. Though I do have a civilian pilot licence. I’ve built five planes. Two I still currently own. I sold the first three. Plus I have another one close to completion, which I also intend to keep. Billie stretched. Lets break and have an early lunch. If we can find out where the Yamashita family are staying. We’ll ask if Mitsuko would like to help us build the chook house. Will you promise me you won’t make any advances toward her while she’s here? I know her parent’s wouldn’t approve and I don’t think she would either.

No... I mean yes. We’re just friends. Not even that. She’s older than me. I think she’s pretty and I like talking to her but I’m not interested in girl friends. Well I am as a friend not like you mean. Anyway she’s much too smart to link up with someone like me.

Okay. I trust you. We’ll ask Anke if it’s okay to have Mitsuko stay then find out if she’d like to come. Billie picked up Trent and commenced walking toward the house. Then I’ll try to get approval to Fly to Lugano and pick Mitsuko up otherwise she’ll need to catch the train.

Trent spent most of his lunch briefing Anke about straight posts and how to tell if the string is tight enough. Next they had to test the new floor to make sure it’s comfortable for the chooks. He thought he might take Edward his teddy bear with him to get a second opinion.

Anke listened attentively encouraging Trent’s enthusiasm. She glanced at