This was the final leg of the run. At the end of the day they would be in Bulgaria.  Carol relaxed into the journey despite the constant, gently falling snow, and the hypnbotic swishing of the wipers on her screen. Once there they would have much to do. Gina sat silently for a while watching the scenery swish by her window. The snow had covered the trees and hillsides with a blanket of white, the mountains, well into the distance, towered majestically, wearing their glimmering white robes, reaching to the clouds above.

"It appears that we are heading straight into the mountains," said Gina at last, pulling out the map and running her finger along the thin line that denoted the road on which they were travelling. "And it looks an awful long way on this map too, the pages are bigger."

Carol raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Occasionally, Gina’s logic, for one so usually sensible, was beyond her. "We are supposed to be stopping for a break just before Nis," she said. "Charlie and Matt both know it so we just follow them in. Actually this is getting quite boring, just sitting behind another truck all the way down the country and back. It doesn’t feel like I am actually putting in any effort at all, or being at all independent if you know what I mean."

"Only you would think a thing like that." Gina sniffed. "What do you think the men do, eh?" She pointed ahead. "Look at Charlie and Matt. Stuck together like glue all the way from England it appears." Tony and Jeff set off together, and would have come back together if all had not gone pear shaped, and how many other drivers have we met on our travels that go nose to tail in pairs or, even threes and fours?"

Carol thought about it. "Yes, suppose you’re right," she conceded. "It’s just this stigma about women drivers I suppose. We can’t just get the job done and forget it, we have to PROVE, beyond doubt, that we can do it without the slightest bit of help whatsoever!"

"That’s silly!" Gina retorted. "The old cry about women drivers used to be ‘what would you do if you had a flat tyre Girlie’? Well it’s quite obvious what we would do. Call out the breakdown services just like all the bloody men do. You don’t see a trucker, even the beefy ones, standing at the side of the road heaving dirty great wheel braces about and hauling two ton wheels onto the thing, do you?"

Carol had to admit it was not a sight that she had noted on a daily basis.

"Thing is," Gina went on. "It’s only the ones with an insecurity complex that it bothers if you think about it. Most of the guys we have met have been fine haven’t they? Both on this trip and the last one, you showed them you knew what you were doing and they just treated you like another driver didn’t they?"

"Yes, you’re right." Carol agreed. They had met some friendly people on their travels and most of the truckers had been just as willing to help Carol as much as any other rookie driver.

"The thing is Kiddo, you should not be so sexist!"

Carol looked at Gina in amazement then burst out laughing. Yes, she was being sexist. The very thing that she was ready to accuse the men of, she was actually guilty of herself. She made a mental note to meet all knew drivers, male of female, on a level footing and either like or dislike them for their own personalities and not for their gender. If she was offered help and advice she would take it and gratefully, but if she was met with a negative attitude she would ignore it and carry on. Gina’s innocent remark had given her food for thought.

*****

After a brief stop for coffee and to say their farewells to Charlie and Matt, they had driven on and were soon approaching the outskirts of Nis, the wide road following the banks of the river towards the town. With a loud blast of air horns, Charlie and Matt turned off towards their destination leaving the two Transcon Haulage trucks to carry on, skirting the city and heading on their way towards the Bulgarian border.

The mountains, towering into the sky, like huge monoliths, covered in white cloaks were an impressive sight as Carol steered the truck along the winding road, a huge gorge, cutting through the mountains gave the impression of swallowing the trucks into its mouth as they made their way forward.

The route took them through a succession of tunnels, carved through the rocks, water constantly dripping through crevices in the arched roof onto the vehicles passing beneath.

"It’s very claustrophobic in here!" Gina remarked, peering up at the dank walls of the tunnel. "I wonder how long they have been built and if they are still safe."

"Thanks for that!" Carol replied wryly. "I was trying not to think about exactly how many tons of rock are hanging over our heads right now."

"Hmm, that’s why I have never been keen on going in the Channel Tunnel train." Gina said thoughtfully. "There is a hell of a lot of water over the top of you in there isn’t there?"

Daylight shone up ahead as they drove out of the first of the tunnels and continued to wind their way along the river. The sides of the mountain were, at times, worryingly close, with overhanging rocks appearing so low that on occasion they were inclined to duck as they passed underneath.

"Don’t know why we are ducking our heads down." Carol pointed out. "We have a good few feet of truck above us but, my goodness, they look low!"

Gina giggled. "Just can’t help it can you," she laughed. It’s like when you go into a car park under the low barriers, you still duck even though they never touch the roof of the car."

"Self preservation instinct," Carol replied, slowing down and dropping a gear to negotiate a particularly tight bend. "Wonder how far ahead Tony is."

The two Transcon Haulage trucks had been separated on the wider road leading towards Niz. Tony was now at least three vehicles ahead as they followed the road towards the border. "Don’t know," said Gina reaching for the CB speaker. "Hello, up ahead, where are you Mr Owl?" she called into the microphone. Crackling and static was the only response. "Hello, Owl, do you copy?" she tried again.

"No use under all these rocks and stuff." said Carol. "They probably cut out all the radio waves for miles around. I do know one thing though."

"What?"

"I am absolutely DYING to wee! I don’t know whether I can hold on ‘til the border, I am pretty desperate. It must be all this cold weather and water all over the place."

"Gina looked around. "God knows where we can stop so that you can go!" she said. "There doesn’t seem to be any signs for rest stops or anything. Just look out for a pull-in, nip out of the truck and do what you have to, it’s not as though this bit of the road is particularly busy, so I doubt if anyone will see you!"

"I am fast getting to the stage where I don’t care if anyone does!" Carol replied grimly.

She gritted her teeth as they continued on their way, keeping a hopeful lookout for any sign of a relief stop. The road wound its way endlessly along the foot of the mountain with no hope of a respite pull in or, in fact, any place at all that may offer a momentary stopping place. Eventually, the big rocks seemed to start edging further away from the side of the road, giving way, at first, to shrubs and bushes then trees, as woodland started to pan out on one side.

"There is a wide bit up ahead." Gina pointed out helpfully. "You can just pull in, nip out for a piddle, then carry on before anybody notices."

Carol, at this point was past caring about being noticed or not as she pulled the Volvo to the side of the road, making sure that the outside wheels were still on the hard surface. The last thing they needed right now, was for the truck to get bogged down and be unable to drive on.

"It’s a bit creepy!" Carol noticed as she cut the engine. Dusk had started to fall, casting shadows through the trees, the woods almost tinkling with the winter sounds of ice and snow. "And don’t they still have wolves out here?"

"Not sure," Gina answered, peering through the woods. "Isn’t that Transylvania? They have them there I think."

"Not sure, but even that can’t be too far away from here and they travel a lot!"

"Well don’t get out then," Gina suggested. "To be on the safe side, just do it in here, there is an old pan you can use, look!" she brandished an old aluminium saucepan that had been stored away in the top locker

Carol pulled a face. "Well, okay, and it is bloody cold out there!" she noted. "But this will be a bit of a production whichever way you look at it!"

Gina giggled. "Oh, go on! Get on with it. Just take your boots and jeans off and we can sling it through the window. Yellow icicles! That will give the passers by something to talk about." Carol suddenly noticed that there were no passers by. They were, for the moment the only travellers on the road.

She kicked off her boots and slid out of her jeans and gratefully made use of the saucepan. "God, that’s a relief,!" she sighed, sliding the almost full pan over from her seat and reaching for her jeans. "I don’t think I could have gone much"

Suddenly the drivers door was swung wide. A leering, bearded face with a set of rotten teeth appeared right besides them. Carol, for a moment was frozen with shock. She vaguely felt another, or possibly more than one, person by the side of the truck, but for a second was stunned.

A sudden flash of movement brought her to her senses as the contents of the saucepan flew across in front of her, hitting the leering face full on. The man yelled and reeled back as Gina flung herself, full length, across Carol and whacked the dripping head hard with the saucepan, before grabbing the door handle, slamming it shut and clicking down the lock.

The dishevelled man was shaking his head and wiping his face with a grubby sleeve as another man ran forward, trying to pull the door open.

"Drive!" Gina yelled, bringing Carol out of her state of shock. "Drive will you!"

Carol turned the ignition and roared the engine into life, slamming the gearstick forward and dropping the handbrake. As she did so, a battered grey pick up truck shot round from the back of the trailer and veered in front of them. Carol did not hesitate, she gunned the engine, firing the big truck forward, directly towards the pick up. The driver, at this point, realised the error of such a move and tried to drive out of the way. Too late. The front of the Volvo slammed into the rear corner of the battered vehicle, spinning it like a child’s toy into the carriageway. Carol slammed the accelerator once more, straitening up in the road and caught the vehicle once more as she careered past, sending bits of metal and glass flying in all directions. Building up speed, as best she could on the winding road, she glanced in her mirrors, to see the pick up, or what was left of it, hanging at a precarious angle over the edge of the road. The only thing holding it in place, the heavy duty safety barrier, with three bewildered would-be robbers, trying to work out their next move as the ‘Flying Angel’ disappeared into the distance.

"Good God! Where the hell did they come from?" said Gina, peering back through the mirrors to see if she could still see the remains of the pick up and its occupants.

"No idea." Carol was still pretty shaken. "But dare I ask what the hell you threw at him!"

Gina snorted. "Your pee of course! Good, hot and fresh! Serves him right, got him slap bang in the face, great shot!"

"Then hit him on the head with the pan for good measure!" Carol reminded her. "My God, Gina, you are so quick-thinking! I was stunned for a moment, I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn’t thought fast like that!"

"Oh, I didn’t think!" Gina replied. "It just sort of happened. You had moved over to get your jeans, and the pan was just there so - whoosh - all over the evil little rat! I had to get the door shut and locked so, as I still had the pan in my hand, I clumped him with it for good measure!"

Carol realised that she was careering along a most precarious road at a speed that was not her usual careful progression. She eased of the throttle a little as the adrenaline subsided. "I can’t believe that just happened!" she said, taking a deep breath. "And I can’t believe I am driving down this bloody road in my knickers and bare feet!"

Gina giggled. "Oh, yes, I hadn’t noticed. Do you want to stop and get dressed?"

"NO! I am certainly not stopping again." Carol was trying to curb the urge to collapse into slightly hysterical laughter. "I will just have to put up with it until we reach the border crossing. Then I will get dressed quick sharp before Tony wonders what the hell we have been up to!"

Before Gina could reply the sound of Tony’s voice crackled over the CB. "Hello, back there, Carol, Gina, do you read me? Are you okay?"

Gina reached up for the microphone. "Hi, Tony, yes we are fine, aren’t we Kiddo?" she held the microphone to Carol’s lips.

"Yes, Darling, absolutely fine! Just trotting along as usual! Just past some signs saying ‘Pirot’," she was still fighting down the urge to giggle.

"That is good to know, Cara Mia. I have just passed through there so we are not too far apart." Tony’s disembodied voice crackled on. "I just wanted to speak to you, although I realise there is nothing that could possible happen to you, as long as the truck is running well. I will see you at the border."

It was all too much for Carol and Gina. The giggles took hold and it was all Carol could do to keep the truck on a straight route, driving, in bare feet and half dressed, on towards the border.

*****

As the ‘Flying Angel’ rolled towards the border, Carol and Gina had regained their composure. Up to a point, that is, as Carol was still in a state of semi-dress. It was well past dusk as they arrived, slowing to a crawl and swinging into the parking area to prepare to present their papers. No sooner had Carol clicked on the handbrake and killed the engine, she scrambled quickly to climb back into her jeans and pull on her boots. "Just glad this heater works so well," said Carol as she finished dressing. "My bum would have been frozen to the seat otherwise!" They both climbed down from the cab and at once went to the front of the truck to inspect the damage they expected to find after the collisions with the pick-up.

"I can’t see any damage at all!" Gina peered at the front of the ‘Flying Angel’ "There is a small scratch on the corner, but apart from that, I think there is very little evidence of a collision!"

"I know these older Volvo’s are built like tanks," Carol put in looking closely, "But actually I think I caught them sort of front on, so it was a straight shunt and the second time I got them with the corner of the trailer." Both girls went round to look. "No!" Carol remarked with surprise. "No evidence that I can see. Luckily for us, in case there is any come back."

"Come back! What are they going to say. ‘Please your honour, we tried to rob-rape-murder these women but they wrecked our pick-up instead! I don’t think so!"

"Hmm, you’re probably right," Carol conceded. "But I will feel better when we are over the border and tucked safely away in Sofia." As she said the words, it seemed a contradiction in terms, considering that Jeff was ‘tucked away’ in Sofia, and not willingly.

"The ‘Silver Lady’ is just over there," Gina pointed across the parking area as she espied Tony’s truck. "No sign of Tony though,"

Carol looked around. "He’s over there," she pointed towards a group of men, standing next to the custom’s offices. Carol gathered up the relevant paperwork and she and Gina walked over to join them.

"Ah, Cara Mia!" Tony smiled broadly as he caught sight of the girls walking towards him. "We have just been discussing how quickly the service is moving this evening," he said, stepping towards Carol and kissing her lightly on the cheek in greeting. "I have already presenting my papers, so if you hand yours in we should be through the border and into Bulgaria within the hour. If that is the case, we can be in Sofia in no time, which will be good as it is Saturday now, so If we do not get unloaded tonight we will have to wait with full loads until Monday morning."

Neither Carol nor Gina had any intention of mentioning the fracas on the road to the border. To begin with, they had decided that to mention it to Tony would have worried him unnecessarily and, apart from that, knocking the locals pick-up trucks of the road may be deeply frowned upon in this part of the world, depending of course on whose story the local officials wanted to believe. After all, they were not at all sure what the motives of the men had been. It had all happened far too quickly to establish whether the motive were robbery, or worse. A still tongue was always a wise thing.

*****

After clearing the border, it was a surprisingly fast run to the outskirts of the city of Sofia. The light was beginning to fade as they trundled into the main streets of the city, the evening traffic busy with the usual hustle and bustle, familiar to all cities throughout the world. Tony had a rough idea of where the drop off point was for the oil and made his way, almost directly to the industrial area on the far side of the town. The loading bays were almost deserted as the two trucks rolled into the yard. It was clearly closing time and the workers were preparing to leave for the evening. Tony and Carol walked over to the main office and presented their paperwork.

"Unload tonight?" Tony asked hopefully, glancing around as he saw workers, obviously making no move to unload, and clearly wanting to get away and back to their homes and families.

The foreman shook his head. "Monday," he managed in English then something in Bulgarian that neither Tony nor Carol could understand.

"Go and get a pack of Marlborough out of the cab," said Tony. "Maybe they will speed things along a little." He signalled to the foreman that some sort of remuneration was forthcoming as Carol ran back to the truck and pulled out a pack of two hundred cigarettes, hurrying back to the office.

Tony held the cigarettes out to the foreman. "Tonight?" he asked again waving the Marlborough under the mans nose. The foreman glanced at the trucks, then the proffered cigarettes. He shouted to a couple of men passing by the door, making their way out of the factory. The men waited, while the foreman spoke to them then both looked at the cigarettes. At once, they removed their coats and waved towards the loading bays.

"Sorted!" said Carol, as she and Tony hurried back to the trucks to drive them on to the bays. "Amazing what a little bribery can do isn’t it?"

Tony grinned. "I have Jeff to thank for that nugget of information. He always said that tobacco was the best currency. The bosses get the hard cash but the workers like their own little ‘perks’"

"Thank goodness for bad habits, that’s all I can say!" Carol replied as she jumped back into the cab.

"What’s happening?" Gina enquired as Carol manoeuvred the Volvo into position for unloading. "Are they going to unload us, even at this time?"

"The cigarette bribe worked its charm!" Carol replied. "So that will save us a great deal of messing around in the morning. I reckon we should get ourselves unloaded then go straight on to the pick up place. From there we can get a taxi to the hotel that the Embassy has arranged for you and make our arrangements to get to the prison in the morning."

"Where is the pick up place?" asked Gina. "Is it far from here?"

"Just the other side of town I believe," Carol replied. "I reckon we should get a taxi to pilot us across there then the same cab can take us to the hotel. Makes sense."

"Yes, it does." Gina replied. "Perhaps the foreman here will phone for one for us."

"Well if you can get across to him exactly what we want I am sure he will. He speaks no English at all so good luck!"

Gina smiled. "Oh, don’t worry," she said climbing down from the cab. "I always manage to get my point across!"

Carol had no doubt whatsoever that Gina would come up trumps.

*****

The taxi cab piloted the two trucks quickly round the city to the address that Tony had written on a piece of paper. On arrival it was clear that the warehouse was closed for the night, which was as expected. The evening rush of traffic had began to subside in and around the city so it was clear that most workers had finished their days tasks and gone home to their families.

The taxi driver pointed through a pair of big double gates, into a cobbled yard. Loading bays stood along the far wall with their shutters closed down and locked

Tony climbed down from the ‘Silver Lady’ and signalled for the cab driver to wait and walked over to Carol’s truck. "We had better get inside and parked up for the night." he said. "Then I will stay and keep watch here while you and Gina go to the hotel and see what arrangements have been made for visiting Jeff."

"Will you be all right here alone, Darling?" Carol asked.

Tony laughed. "Of course I will! I have travelled alone before, you know, and there is another truck over in the corner, the light is on in the cab so I take it that there is another driver here to keep me company."

"Well if you’re sure that it will be all right, I will get parked up then Gina and I will take the taxi to the hotel, wherever it is!"

Carol swung the Volvo into the yard and reversed onto the nearest loading bay. That way it would save Tony the job of juggling two trucks when the time came to load. Gina pulled her cases from the truck and made her way to the taxi, handing him a piece of paper with the address of the hotel.

"We will ring you as soon as we know what is happening." Carol said as she kissed Tony goodbye.

"Do not worry, Cara Mia, I understand that this is of the utmost importance and may make a lot of difference to Jeff if all goes well."

"How are you feeling?" Carol asked as the taxi sped through the brightly lit streets of the city.

"Nervous as a kitten!" Gina replied. "I’ve tried not to think of it as much as possible but now that we have actually arrived I just don’t know what to expect."

The taxi turned into a wide street, away from the busy centre and the hustle and bustle of town. Trees lined one side of the road, which seemed mainly to be made up of hotels, the type usually frequented by business persons. Certainly not seedy or cheap, but definitely not expensive and upper crust as the sort preferred by the more discerning tourist or wealthy patrons.

"This is it I think." Gina checked the address on her notes and fished in her bag for money to pay the taxi. "It doesn’t look too bad does it?"

"Very nice so far." Carol replied, pushing open the big glass doors into the foyer. "I have no idea how we are going to communicate that we are already booked in though." she added, as they approached the front desk.

Gina took charge. "We are from England." she stated clearly. "British Embassy have made booking, yes?"

"Good evening." The manager’s English was accented but obviously good, and far better than the women’s none-existent Bulgarian! "Your booking was made by Mr Huntingdon-Smythe." he smiled and reached under the desk. "He charge me with giving you papers, yes?" he handed Gina a large brown envelope and reached a key from the hook. "Your room, Madame, I hope you will be satisfied with our service." he gave a small bow as he handed Gina the key.

"Thank you." Gina was a little taken aback that it had all been so easy.

The girls picked up their bags and made their way to the lift. "I hope there is a bath in this place," Gina remarked. "First thing I want to do is have a good soak then relax and read every word on these papers."

"Yes, I hope there is a bath." said Carol as the lift doors opened. "It does seem to be a reasonable standard hotel, so they usually have baths as well as showers."

The hotel room exceeded all their expectations. It was huge by almost any standards. Two wider-than-normal single beds stood against the far wall opposite a huge old fashioned sofa and matching lounge chairs. Above the dressing table was an enormous, elaborately gilded mirror and the double windows were dressed in splendour with swags and tails of floor length velvet.

"Very nice!" Carol swung her bag onto one of the beds. "This is all very grand. Didn’t look it from the outside though did it?"

"Hmm, yes it is rather splendid isn’t it?" Gina agreed. "Obviously one of the old style hotels, probably family run and been the same for a million years," she opened a door in search of the bathroom. "I say!

The whole bathroom is marble through here! VERY Cleopatra! and there is a bathtub too. Brilliant!"  Gina spun the bath taps on to full. At once a loud banging sound reverberated around the room making the girls jump.

"What the hell is that?" said Carol, the thudding almost drowning her voice.

Gina giggled. "I thought this place was too good to be true!" she said. The plumbing obviously is as old as the hotel." she turned off the taps with the bath only half full. "I reckon it is their way of saving on the hot water," she suggested. "Nobody could spend too much time with that racket."

"Well, you go first and save me the water," Carol walked back into the bedroom. "We could wake the dead with that noise."

"Never mind. At least we can have a soak, and it’s hot too," Gina picked up her smaller case and closed the bathroom door."

"That’s good," Carol called back from the bedroom. "And at least there is an electric kettle with milk, tea and coffee sachets," she added. Carol always believed in getting the priorities in order.

Gina did not reply. She had taken her toiletries from the top of her case and had pulled the wooden panel slightly away from the bath. She tucked her case underneath, out of sight and replaced the panel. Only now she was ready to undress and slide into the hot water.

*****

"Well that was a complete waste of time!" Gina plonked the papers down on the side table and leaned back in the big chair. "Of course, I should have realised that it would all be in Bulgarian, I just didn’t think."

The girls had both enjoyed a long bath and were relaxing with cups of coffee.

"So we actually have no idea what they say or what we are supposed to be doing with ‘em." Carol put in. "Are there no clues at all?"

"No, none whatsoever. Only this explanatory note from this Huntingdon-Smythe chap. All this says, is to go to the prison at twelve noon tomorrow and present these papers. So I reckon that’s what we will have to do!"

"Okay, then that’s what we will do." Carol said simply. She glanced at her watch. "I suggest we get dressed and go and see what the food is like here and, of course, sample the Bulgarian wine. I’ll ring Tony and tell him what is happening, then an early night, what do you think?"

Gina agreed. She just wanted this night over with and for tomorrow to come as quickly as possible. Then she would see Jeff. Beyond than that thought, her brain could not reach.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The gates of Zafora Prison were cold, and forbidding. The icy wind lashed Carol and Gina’s faces as they approached. They rang the bell and waited. There was no sign of life in the courtyard within the gates that they could see.

A voice through the intercom spoke gutturally in Bulgarian. "We have a permit to visit," Carol spoke into the tiny grill above the bell. Silence. Another burst of Bulgarian then a click. The women waited.

"What’s happening?" Gina’s voice was low.

"They are probably deciding whether to let us in or not," Carol replied.

A uniformed guard appeared from the side of the building. Bearded and stern he grunted at the women and slid the small panel at the side of the big security gate open and gestured them inside.

Gina pulled the paperwork from the Embassy out of her pocket and held them out to the guard. "We are here to see Jeffrey Meredith." she said slowly, pointing to Jeff’s name on the paperwork. The guard grunted and walked towards the building, opening the door and ushering the girls into a stone corridor with doors, all closed, along its length.

He walked down the corridor without a word followed by Carol and Gina and stopped outside one of the doors. Opening it and signalling them to wait inside, closing the door behind them and leaving them alone. The two friends looked around. The room was small and sparsely furnished with a desk and three chairs, the floor covered with a plain grey carpet. A large window, high in the wall, let the light, strangely grey from the winter sky, fill the room.

"It seems fairly normal for a prison," Carol remarked, trying her best to keep Gina’s spirits up although she had no idea what prisons were supposed to look like, never having being in one.

"Wouldn’t know," Gina replied bluntly. "I don’t usually frequent these places."

Before Carol could reply the guard returned with another uniformed official. The man was huge, well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a full beard. His eyes, so dark, almost black like pieces of coal, glinted at the two women.

"You have come to see the English." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes!" Gina answered eagerly. "Can we see him, we have written permission from the British Embassy." she reached in her bag for the papers.

The man’s eyes passed from Gina to Carol and back again.

"Arrangements have been made," said Zhravko Markov. "The prisoner will be brought. You will speak for fifteen minutes. A witness from the Embassy will be present for the time of the interview."

"From the Embassy?" Carol enquired. "Is this normal procedure?"

"For this prison, yes," Markov stepped towards the door. "You wait."

Carol knew that Gina had wanted a private moment or two with Jeff. She had planned to wait outside the small interview room but now there was to be another person present. It was hardly the meeting Gina had looked forward to.

"Maybe it is a good thing that the man from the Embassy will be here," she said, trying to sound encouraging. "It may help to get his take on things."

"It would have been nice to have Jeff to myself after all this time," Gina replied. "But it doesn’t matter, as long as I get to look at him, see he is all right and speak to him.

Time dragged at snail’s pace as the girls waited nervously for the appearance of Jeff, or the visitor from the Embassy. The sound of clanging gates and muffled voices drifted occasionally from the corridor outside. Each sound making Gina’s heart leap, expecting it to be Jeff. After what seemed an interminable time the door was flung open and Zhravko Markov once more strode into the small, chilly room, a tall, well dressed man following in his wake.

"Ah, good day ladies, good day! James Huntingdon-Smythe at your service!" The Embassy official beamed broadly and extended his hand in introduction. "Thank you kindly Markov, SO sorry for the delay old man, but here we all are now so let the dog see the rabbit eh? Shall we get our man in here then?"

It was clear that the big prison officer had little regard for this overly cheerful civil servant as he left the room without a word, clicking the door firmly closed behind him.

"Now listen ladies," Huntingdon-Smythe’s tone had lost the gung-ho edge it had held while the big Bulgarian official had been present. "You will only have a very short time with your husband Mrs Meredith so if there is anything important that you need to say, then please, do not waste time."

"Nothing specific," Gina answered, her mind in a daze. What DID she want to say? What could she say? Nothing about what she was planning, not in front of all these others. Right now she just wanted to SEE Jeff. Touch him and make sure he was still alive and well.

"Good, just a visit then. I regret that it is the custom here for myself or someone like me to be present but please just ignore me as best you can. When they have returned Mr Meredith to his cell we can talk for as long as you wish, there is no hurry and then I will stay for a short time as I need to speak to the prison authorities regarding solicitor’s visits, etc."

Gina gasped. She had not been prepared for the sight she beheld. Jeff was thin and gaunt, his hair unkempt and curling round his collar, a half inch growth of stubble on his chin. It was not hard to detect the stale smell about him as he approached.

"Darling!" Gina leapt forward and flung her arms around Jeff’s neck, disregarding his unkempt appearance and less than palatable smell

"No contact!" Zhravko Markov snapped, slamming the door closed. Gina jumped back.

"Come and sit here old man!" Huntingdon-Smythe pulled out a chair, cheerfully waving Jeff to sit. "Thank you, Markov. There will be no more breaches of etiquette I assure you. Not with you and I to keep an eye out eh!"

Jeff and Huntingdon-Smythe sat on one side of the small wooden table and Carol and Gina took their places opposite. Markov stood behind them with his back firmly to the door. It occurred to Carol that there was no way that they could possibly have made any attempt to rush through the door to freedom even if that had been a consideration. The yards of winding narrow corridors were in themselves a maze to confuse and the presence of the huge uniformed man would have certainly dampened any thoughts of an escape.

"Darling, how are you?" Gina leaned as far as she dare across the small table.

Jeff smiled. "I’m fine, my love, just missing your cooking that’s all." He was determined to look as positive and cheerful as the circumstances would allow. His main worry was that Gina would be struggling to cope in his absence. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm her. "To be honest the food in here is lousy and the food parcel you ladies so promptly provided has certainly made a difference. Keep them coming love, they are something to look forward to."

Jeff made no mention of the terrible fate that had befallen his young cell mate. That would have been too much to have to try and explain. He wanted to tell what he had heard about an early release, but was frightened of raising Gina’s hopes, only to have them dashed if this did not come to fruition. Anyway, he had heard nothing about it from the Embassy as yet, so decided to keep quiet.

"Oh, I will, Darling, I will send parcels every day if necessary," Gina was determined not to burst into tears at the forlorn sight before her. She desperately wanted to tell Jeff that she had brought money, that she was going to try every means within her to get him out of this place but could not. The presence of Huntingdon-Smythe stilled her tongue. Also, what if it could not be done. She could not bear to raise Jeff’s hopes in case her plans did not work, and she still had no idea whom she would have to deal with in this matter.

"Carol, how is the business coping?" Jeff needed to know. "The Transcon is still stuck out here and the load - well God only knows where that has gone but I doubt it will be still on the trailer."

"Don’t worry Jeff. We have it all in hand," Tony has been terrific, he got the first load and brought it back, shaken though he was after what had happened," Carol tried to sound more positive than she felt. "I have bought another truck, and it’s up and running. Tony and I are both on the road so that’s fine for now."

"The new truck is great!" Gina tried to sound up-beat and raise Jeff’s spirits. "She can even outrun the ‘Silver Lady’! We call her the ‘Flying Angel’!"

"So you two have driven here, come by truck?" Jeff did not like the idea of Carol and his Gina being out here in a truck after what had happened to him.

"Tony is here as well," Carol put in quickly. "The trip was really uneventful and pleasant." she lied, "We have the re-loads arranged and will be travelling back in convoy too. But don’t you get any ideas of resting up here too long though. We need you back on the road too!"

Jeff smiled wryly. "Okay, Ginger Nut. I’ll just have a short break here then I’ll get back out there on the road so you can work me to death!" Jeff had not lost his sense of humour.

Carol wanted to ask about the Operators licence being in Jeff’s name and how the business stood with his incarceration but held back. This was Gina’s moment and it was for her to speak to Jeff.

Carol turned to James Huntingdon-Smythe and engaged him in quiet conversation while Gina spoke to Jeff. They only had fifteen minutes together so Carol attempted a low profile although privacy was hardly possible.

The time flew by, although Carol had glanced at her watch and noticed that the statutory fifteen minutes had stretched to nearer twenty five. "Time finished. You come now." Markov spoke gruffly although his voice was not harsh.

"Okay Zhravko," Jeff replied familiarly. "Do I have your permission to kiss my lovely wife goodbye?" Markov nodded curtly.

Jeff walked round the table towards Gina. "Chin up my lovely," he said quietly and kissed her gently. "It will all work out in the end you’ll see," He stroked Gina’s silken hair and nodded to Markov who opened the door, standing aside as Jeff walked through then following him into the corridor, closing the door behind them.

Gina sat down heavily once more on the hard wooden chair. Her heart was breaking. "We have to get him out of here!" she announced desperately, lifting her eyes imploringly to Huntingdon-Smythe.

"I do understand how you feel Mrs Meredith - "

"No! No you DON’T understand how I feel! Nobody can understand how I feel. Not unless the person you love most in the world is locked up in this place and you can’t do anything to help them. No, Mr Huntingdon-Smythe, you have NO idea how I feel!"

Carol did not speak. There was nothing she could say that could be of any use so she held her silence.

"I apologise Mrs Meredith." Huntingdon-Smythe tried again. "I do realise of course that this is a terrible situation for you, and for your husband. We are of course trying to do the best we can but things take time here. I can only apologise. I will be staying back here when you leave and speaking further with the Governor. We need to get a trial date sorted out as soon as possible to find out what the sentence will be."

"But my husband is innocent!" Gina’s voice quavered as she spoke.

The Embassy official sighed. He had heard it all before. "Let me explain." He tried to sound patient as he spoke. "Bulgarian law is very simple and clear cut. The law states that ‘it is illegal to carry drugs into Bulgaria’, that is the bottom line."

"Yes, but - " The man held up his hand.

"There are no ‘but’s’ I’m afraid. Your husband was driving his truck, was he not?"

Gina nodded. "And he crossed the border into Bulgaria, yes?" Gina nodded again. "This is where his truck was searched and the drugs were found?

"That’s what happened," Gina agreed. "Nobody is denying that, the question is - "

"There IS no question here." The man stated firmly. "Your husband IS guilty of carrying the drugs into Bulgaria, it’s as simple as that I am afraid!"

Gina was lost for words. There was nothing to say. The British Government was obviously not going to chance compromising its position in a foreign land for the sake of one man.

"But what about a trial?" Carol asked. "You said something about a trial. If he is already supposed to be guilty then what purpose does a trial serve?"

"The fact that he is guilty is without question here," Huntingdon-Smythe went on. "The trial is really just a formality. The best we can hope for is that some doubt is cast onto whether Mr Meredith was aware that the drugs were on his truck or not."

"So if they believe him they will let him go." Gina felt hope rise in her chest.

"Sorry." Huntingdon-Smythe shook his head. "The best we can hope for is a reduced sentence."

Gina felt sick again. "Reduced to what? From what?" Carol asked. "We know nothing of what to expect"

"Around twelve years is the usual sentence." Gina felt the room starting to spin. "But if he can prove, and it will be extremely difficult to prove, that he knew nothing of what he was carrying, then it may be reduced to seven years."

James Huntingdon-Smythe’s eyes looked sympathetically at Gina, sitting frozen to her chair and desperately trying to control the urge to vomit. What if her plans did not come to fruition. Jeff would have to spend years in this place.

"What we usually do in these cases is ask that the sentence be served in a British prison, which at least will allow your husband to be taken back to England. But as our laws are so lenient in comparison to Bulgarian law, they usually insist that at least five years of the sentence is served in this country."

"I have to get her out of here." Carol stated. Gina looked ill and this conversation was not helping. "You will speak to Jeff before you leave won’t you?"

"Yes, then I will make some arrangements and try to get a lawyer to him some time tomorrow. I will be in touch as soon as we know something." He was looking at Gina, ashen and shaking. "Take your friend back to the hotel." His voice softened. "I think she needs to rest."

Carol thanked him and helped Gina to her feet. "Come on Kiddo, let’s get you back for a lie down. You need to eat as well."

Gina did not answer as Carol let her towards the door and the long corridor leading outside. There was surprisingly no sign of any prison guards. "Just follow this corridor to the door." Huntingdon-Smythe advised. "There will be someone in the yard to let you out."

"I would have expected someone to escort us out, going by the strict security in here." Carol remarked.

"Oh, the security is certainly here. Believe me!" The Embassy official shook their hands and walked the opposite way down the corridor as Carol and Gina walked towards the door leading to the courtyard,

The cold air met them in a rush as they walked outside, into the concrete yard.

"Carol! My legs just won’t - " Gina slumped to the ground. Carol grabbed her arm in an attempt to break her friend’s fall as Gina collapsed onto the cold concrete.

"Gina! Gina!" Carol knelt down and lifted Gina’s head onto her lap. The icy wind making her ears ring. Desperately she looked around. The burly, bearded prison guard was striding towards them. Carol desperately hoped that it was not against Bulgarian law to faint on prison property.

"I’m sorry." Carol looked up helplessly as the big man arrived at her side. "My friend, she is not well, I must get her to the hotel."

Without a word the bearded man bent down and lifted Gina effortlessly into his arms and began to walk towards the gate, shouting an abrupt instruction to the young guard who immediately punched in the code on the gate panel and swung it wide to allow them through.

Carrying Gina as though she were weightless, the big man strode across the busy road towards the hotel. Carol almost had to run to keep up.

"This hotel you stay?" It was the first time he had addressed them.

"Er, yes - thank you!" Carol was not sure how to react. Was he doing a genuine good turn or was it his official duty to clear swooning ladies from his prison yard.

Carol opened the big glass doors into the hotel foyer and Zhravko Markov strode through, turning slightly to angle Gina’s small frame clear. "Get key!" he instructed, showing no signs of depositing Gina onto her feet. Carol ran to the desk and demanded her key from the curious hotelier.

Gina had come round but was not sure what was happening. "It’s all right, Kiddo." Carol tried to assure her as they entered the lift. "This kind man came to our rescue." She fervently prayed that the ‘kind man’ was not going to demand favours for helping them and desperately wished she could think of the right things to say to relieve him of his burden before they reached their room.

"I’m sorry to be such a problem," Gina had regained a little of her composure as the lift began its journey. "I think I may be able to stand now."

The big man gently lowered Gina to her feet, keeping his arm about her for support.

"It is hard on the woman when her man is taken." His voice struggling for the correct English words but the tone was gentle.

"It is a shock more than anything." Carol tried to explain. "This ladies husband has never been known to do wrong."

An inclination of the head but no answer.

"You have been very kind." Carol continued. "What is your name?"

"Markov." The man replied. "Zhravko Alexandrou Nikolia Markov."

"I am Carol Landers and this is Gina Meredith."

"The English is lucky man!"

"Not right now!" Gina said weakly. "Locked in a cold cell for something he did not do."

The lift doors opened and Carol led the way to their room. At the door she hesitated. Zhravko obviously intended to accompany them inside.

"Thank you once more for your help." Gina looked up at the tall man, still supporting her with an arm about her shoulders.

Markov removed his arm and gave the hint of a bow. He glanced to the number on the door, "This evening. Be here. I may have something to offer you."

Gina shot him a desperate glance. "You may be able to help Jeff, help us?"

"There are ways of making things move faster, as, I believe, you already know Mrs Meredith." His eyes were steady on Gina’s face as he spoke.

Carol took a step towards Gina, protectively standing close. This did not go unnoticed by Markov. He stood back. "Please do not misunderstand." he said curtly. "Both you women are safe as long as Zhravko Markov is your protector." He almost stood to attention, inclining his head smartly in salute.

"Thank you." Carol was still not entirely convinced. "I am sure we both appreciate having you as our champion."

"How can things be made to move faster?" Gina remembered what she had been told by Mark Cameron and Marco. "If it can be done by paying Jeff’s ‘fine’ then that will not be a problem. Can you find out for us if this is possible."

"Oh, Madam, it is more than possible," Markov replied.