Ferret Girl Ch. 01

It must have been there for years, she thought, given how difficult it had been to get the degraded latex to give up its hold on the metal floor plate. When she'd pulled out the seat completely, she'd had to laugh - and curse a little. There were about ten of them there. The clean-up took half an afternoon and a bit of solvent to make it all look spit-shined.

After that, she'd had to wonder about just how the hell you could manage an act like that in the close confines of a Ferret interior. It became a fun little pastime for her as she worked on other things. How does one enjoy a bit of a fuck in a place like that?

But the whole thing, as rude and nasty as it had been, gave Kate another idea, and sometimes, when there was no one else about, she'd lock herself inside Fanny if she could manage it and have a bit of private fun.

Well if you were in a bullet-proof metal box on wheels and no one could see or hear you, ...

Since Fanny spent a lot of time at the museum, she preferred her own Ferret for it. If she was away at a show and it wasn't too cold, she'd found that she could camp out quite comfortably inside her Ferret. With a little thought, she'd configured an LED interior lighting system that drew very little from the battery. It wasn't as bright as the original one, but then that was for when the engine was running, this one was for when it was off.

She'd bought a surplus military arctic sleeping bag and she'd be toasty in it, if a little cramped. It might not have room service, but it was fairly comfy and it was fun and cost her nothing. She'd lock up and sleep in a huge T-shirt inside the sleeping bag in a modified sitting/sprawled-out position. The downside to that was that sometimes, she'd wake up really cramped and knotted like today.

The other downside was that she had no one to share this with.

Ferrets were fun to Kate. If it was a normal weekend during the summer months, she'd pull one of them out into the sunshine and wearing the T-shirt and cut-off jeans that she'd brought for the purpose, she'd wash them. The "car wash" sometimes got her into some fun conversations with men now and then, but she was always mindful about her job. Sweet gigs like this just didn't happen very often. But once everyone was gone and she was alone with Fanny in her stall, Kate was inside and loving it.

What had happened that day was that Kate had overdone it. She'd been working long hours at her dad's shop and then she'd kept right on working, preparing for the upcoming show. The power nap that she'd intended to have had lasted over four hours.

She pulled her old laptop out of her knapsack and booted it up. The clock told her that it was after ten PM. That caused her even more trouble. She really had to pee, but she didn't dare to walk through the shop to use the toilets, since there were ultrasonic motion sensors there.

But necessity is the mother of invention, they say, and Kate had come up with a plan. She was quick about it and took a couple of tissues with her when she peed over the floor drain. A moment with the shop hose and nobody was the wiser. She pulled out her cellphone.

The museum curator answered on the third ring and Kate explained what had happened. "I'm a little trapped here, David," she said in embarrassment, "I can't go back into the main shop area because the motion sensors have surely come on by now and I don't want to have to explain it all to the base MPs when they respond to an alarm. I'm fine right here in the service bay area, and I've still got my cooler full of goodies to eat, so I'm alright. But I was supposed to be in that meeting tomorrow that you were talking about on Friday. I'll still be there, I just won't really be in um, business attire, if it's alright with you."

Her boss was fine with everything and after making sure that Kate was definitely alright, he rang off.

Kate shook her head to herself and looked for something to eat in her cooler. She read some of an ebook on her PC and after that, Kate Perkins did her best to find a comfortable position in the commander's position and tried to go to sleep. She thought about maybe getting back with William, her last boyfriend, but threw the idea onto the scrapheap after only a little thought.

Bill suffered from an incurable condition. It wasn't fatal or anything, and there was a lot of help to be had on the subject and all. But in order to affect a cure, the patient had to agree that he suffered from it in the first place, and Bill had steadfastly refused to concede the possibility that there was even a problem. After a lot of trouble on her part to help, Kate had given up finally, knowing that without at least admitting it to himself, there was nothing that she could do for him and that he'd likely die with the condition, though by itself, it wouldn't kill him, while Kate herself likely would if she stayed with him.

She'd been warned going in, she remembered. His own sister, her best friend, had told her of his ailment in no uncertain terms as she tried to wave her off. Now? Well, now, Kate knew that his sister had been right on the money about the incurable malady.

Bill was an asshole.

With that decided and with Fanny's hatches buttoned up, Kate set the alarm on her phone and eased herself and her arctic sleeping bag a little lower. She had a rough idea what her meeting with David would be about in the morning.

She thought about some nice tropical scenery; warm beaches and palm trees as her hands began to tease her breasts. Before long, one of her hands slid down to begin a little work between her thighs as she imagined a pleasant little scene on a beach late at night.

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"I'm acting in a bit of a different role here today," David Markham said quietly as the two of them sat in his office the following morning. "I've received a request for a referral and frankly, both you and the museum stand to gain from it, though it would mean a bit of a change for you."

"Well," Kate smiled as she worked on the breakfast that her boss had thoughtfully brought for her, "let's hear it then. A change is as good as a rest."

The forty-three year old curator steepled his fingers together and thought for a moment. "As you know, Ferrets were sold to quite a few customers over the nineteen years that they were in production, twenty-five nations used them, past and present, though there are only nine current users."

"Yes," Kate smiled, rolling her eyes, "and there were four thousand, four hundred and nine of the little darlings built in total. I know all of that, David. Please go on."

He smiled, "Well I know that you're an authority, but I don't know if you're aware that the island nation of St. Kitts and Nevis still has three Ferrets running supposedly, though I don't know which of the two islands they're on or anything. There were at one time many sugar plantations there and it was a large source of income to the Crown. Those days are long gone now and after a long period of decline, the island of St. Kitts is undergoing a bit of a revival as it shifts its economy toward tourism and other industries.

But there are still a couple of semi-active plantations, though they're quite modernized, I'm told and there are other crops grown there as well, the sugar industry still being largely closed. One of these is still operated by one of the old families on the island though they grow other crops there as well, and they have expressed a serious interest in leasing the Ferret that you have named Farley from the museum and they wish as well to speak to you about hiring the services of you and Fanny. You would need to keep both units up and running and they know that you've got a military background and are familiar with small arms."

He looked a little uncomfortable for a moment. "I've um, ... I've also told them that you did at one time cross-train into the military police role, so they'll want to talk to you about that as well."

Kate almost swallowed her fork.

"Alright, " she said, "this sounds a little bit funny to me, and I don't mean hilarious, though the morning is still young, I suppose. What do they want the Ferrets for? They're only good for a very few things, David. You can use them on a battlefield, or you can use them in support of a peacekeeping sort of role as the UN did, or, ..." She looked up.

"You could use them to keep a local population under control, and if there's anything like that to this, I'm not interested, and I'll tell you that right now."

He shook his head, "No. Nothing like that. They have a bit of a security problem that the local police can't really help with. They're offering to pay for the transport to ship both Mark 5s to the island and back at the end of it all, and pay your fare as well. They want to hire them for a period of two years, and your role will be to keep them running as I've said, as well as operate Fanny too. It'll be a busy thing, Kate, and there may be a bit of excitement to it all as well."

His phone rang at that point and he walked to his desk to answer it. He had a bit of a nervous smile when he stepped back to the table. "There's a man here who represents the customer, a Mr. Morris. I'm sure that he'll be able to explain it a lot better. From the museum's point of view, other than a few insurance issues, this represents a lot of money offered for the use of one of our vehicles, and I'm certain that what they might offer you enough to at least keep your attention long enough to hear him out and consider, Kate."

Everton Morris was a powerfully-built, middle aged man of African-Caribbean descent who looked only mildly interested in being there, but was obviously much-used to being sent on errands around the world for his employers. He shook Kate's hand, after giving her a bit of a surprised appraising look.

David looked a little uncomfortable, "Ms. Perkins had already been hard at work this morning, Mr. Morris," he fibbed, "I neglected to tell her about the meeting today."

Morris nodded and began to lay out the requirement. A few minutes later, Kate got her chance to ask the questions that were top of mind to her.

"What are your needs here, sir?" she asked, "I'm trying to figure out why you'd need or want Ferrets for use on a plantation."

Morris looked annoyed, "The plantation is a modern and well-run farm by anyone's standards with a highly skilled workforce, " he explained, "the property ends at the ocean's edge on one side and the other activities have nothing to do at all with that, but we've had troubles with drug runners using the property there to trans-ship. They pull a yacht into one of the coves and a few smaller craft come to them in the shallow water close in to shore. We are concerned that some of this product is at least stored on our property at best and produced there at worst. You can imagine that this is not desirable for the Cardington family to even be unwitting participants in this sort of thing.

The police have tried to help, but have not been successful, or I should say that it hasn't even gone very well. At first, we'd notice and we'd call, but it took far too long for them to respond. These people are well-armed, better than the constables. St. Kitts is a small nation. We do not have the resources to do much about this. Now we have trouble getting the police to even come, and it's affecting some of the workers. They fear that if the police cannot do anything, it will only be a matter of time before they themselves are threatened in some way or another. We are not talking about regular farm labor here, Ms. Perkins, though there is still a little of that. Most of our workforce is skilled, and if they feel themselves or their families threatened, they know that they can find good work elsewhere, so it is important to us that they stay and feel secure.

Mr. Cardington thought of using Ferrets to patrol the shoreline here and there. He'd seen the old Ferrets that are used now and then for civic celebrations, more as participants than anything else. He knows that those ones are very old and thought to hire newer ones. We wish to have them patrol the perimeter and act as a deterrent, once it becomes known that they are there."

He leaned forward and looked at Kate, "We wish to have you there to train some of our hired constables to use the Ferrets. We understand that one of them is your personal property and we can understand that you may not wish to have someone else operate it, and therefore, we would hope to use your services in a constabulary role as well. Frankly, we think that you'd be the best driver and instructor that we could hope to find, and so we are prepared to offer you a two year contract and hope that the pay might be attractive enough for you to at least consider."

And that was how Kate found herself on board a freighter carrying two Ferret armored cars to a small and beautiful Caribbean nation a month later.

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Earlier that day, Kate sat on the bunk in her cabin and opened a few of the boxes around her. Back in the day, Ferrets were navigated by the commander using topographical maps. Things were a lot different now. She didn't really know much about the island, other than what she'd found out online. That had looked nice, but she knew that she wasn't destined for any of the touristy places, and she doubted that much existed in the form of maps that she could get her hands on.

So she'd thought of her faithful little GPS. Well that was fine, but it didn't work all that well inside a metal-skinned scout car. That also ruled out getting one of the windscreen --mounted models. So she'd gotten some PC-based map and trip planning software that came with a little USB GPS antenna and she'd bought herself a new notebook PC .Twenty minutes later on the deck, she was looking at her present position on the little screen, plodding along at 18 knots and not a roadway in sight. The choice of the notebook had been a natural for Kate; it had its own battery, so she could use it independently of vehicle power. It would be nothing to mount the little sensor and run a USB cable.

She was traveling as one of a very few passengers on the same freighter that carried the two Ferrets, some spare parts and her tools in a shipping container, besides its more conventional cargo. It was a pleasant enough way to travel, but it lacked most of the amenities that one might expect on a regular liner. There wasn't all that much to do.

The crew was interesting and very friendly, but she didn't reciprocate their keen interest in her, and she tended to spend quite a lot of her time in her cabin, planning out what had to be done on arrival. Other than the job that she was preparing for, there was another reason for her keeping more or less to herself.

After a few days, they were a lot farther south and it began to get much warmer. Kate spent a bit of time in the crew lounge, but she found that she couldn't get all that much done as she sat at a table with her notebook transcribing things into a quick and hopefully meaningful training agenda on operating the scout cars. Before long, one or two of the crew would come over to try to engage her in conversation. Passengers were a pleasant diversion for them from the monotonous job of crewing a tramp freighter. Kate was friendly, but she kept her distance from the sailors politely after a point.

There was another problem, and he was on his way over to her at the moment. Kate sighed in a little exasperation. Some people just can't seem to understand 'no, thanks'.

This had been going on for days, but she planned to put a stop to it very soon.

The next day, she was sitting in the lounge in the morning, just finished her breakfast when she was approached by one of her fellow passengers, a rather obnoxious man who liked to drink almost constantly. He'd come to Kate's attention because of his tendency to make some rather crude suggestions to her at intervals of about three minutes every time that he found her. Finally, he made his mistake when he'd suggested that they go to her cabin for the day. Kate looked up angrily and closed her notebook to put it into her bag. She saw a few of the crew looking at the two of them intently.

"I have an idea," she said, "I think that we ought to make this a little more into what it really is-an unpleasant possibility."

"How d'yer mean?" he asked.

"Well like a lot of arseholes, you can't seem to take no for an answer. It probably stems from a mistaken notion that you have that you are attractive to someone like me. I find the thought of going to bed with you to be repugnant and I've told you so, but you keep bothering me.

Let's arm-wrestle," she smiled at him; "You put fifty quid on the table here. If you win, I'm all yours, yeah? If I win, the fifty's mine, and you get to see what all of these men here think of you regardless."

He stared at her.

"Well?" she leaned forward, "Have you got the fifty, or does a big man like you need to ask wifey for the money?"

He stood up and in a few moments, there was a pile of paper bills on the table. In a few moments more, there were a few more interested sailors in the lounge laying down their money in side-bets as well, and when they were ready, one of the men offered to call it.

When the sailor had counted to three, Kate slammed the drunk's arm down before he could blink. She lifted fifty pounds out of the pile of bills, folded them, and put them into her shirt pocket.

"See?" she grinned, "Your money feels better already. Want to make it two out of three? I'll want a hundred this time."

The fool blinked at her, "A hundred?"

"Yeah," Kate beamed, "Double or nothing. Come on, here's your chance to put a woman in her place. You win, you screw me. I win, I keep screwing you, and I can tell you, you're an absolutely wonderful fuck so far."

The crewmen roared in laughter and it had the desired effect on the fool's pride. He agreed, looking determined.

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Two hours later, there was a knock at Kate's cabin door. She opened it and found a thin woman standing there looking absolutely miserable.

"You're the wife?" she asked.

The woman nodded, "Yeah, God help me, I'm the wife. I was hoping tha -- "

Kate shook her head, "It's alright," she said, as she reached into her shirt pocket. She handed over a wad of bills held together with a rubber band. "It's all here, four hundred and eighty quid. I wouldn't take the coins that he offered me.

Oh!" she said, remembering, as she reached into her jeans and pulled out a set of car keys to hand them across to the now wide-eyed and mortified woman.

"Oh God, ..."

"Look," Kate said, "I'm sorry if this embarrasses you, but your man's an ass and whether you know it or not, you've got a problem. He's been bothering me every single day since we sailed and I'm really tired of it now. I've already been to the captain over it and I imagine that there'll be some fallout over this yet. I don't need somebody like your husband ruining my trip for me the way that he has been. I just had enough of it this morning, that's all."

The woman began to say that her Paul wasn't really a bad sort, but he had a lot of things on his mind.

Kate didn't buy any of it.

"There's no excuse for what he's doing. The fact that you're here proves what he is, doesn't it? He doesn't have the stick to apologize himself, so he sends you to try to get his money back, or worse, you're here to appeal to me as a long-suffering wife while he sleeps it off.

I feel for you, but I've seen his kind before, and this won't stop him. I'm telling you that you'd better do what you can to keep him on a short leash, or I'll pound the snot out of him the next time that he so much as opens his mouth to me. The way that his arm feels will be nothing, trust me."