'Samantha you are one enigmatic woman,' Blake complimented, as he drove her back to Scotland Yard.

'Because you saw me beat up two guys?' she quipped.

He could not keep his eyes of her, and with effort dragged his eyes back to the road.

'So we're all set to head back to South Africa tonight?' she changed the subject.

'The jet's refueled and waiting, we can leave when you say the word,' he replied.

'It should take me half an hour to wrap up the paperwork, I will leave instructions for the diamond to be deposited back at the bank by Peter, is that okay?'

Blake nodded assent.

'Thank you again for loaning it to me.'

'Glad to be of service anyway I can,' he teased seductively.

Samantha ignored the suggestive come on, instead she casually lifted her mobile and called Peter, informing him, she was returning to South Africa that evening.  He wanted them to have dinner, but she declined, she hated laborious farewells.

They had begun their journey back home.  Samantha lounged on the fashionable recliner and contemplated the working relationship between her and Blake.  Things had definitely altered between them.  Could they go back to the way things were before they had made love. And it was not wham bam thank you ma'am sex. She knew they had made love.  It was beautiful, magical and out of this world. But she could not have a relationship with Blake, not while Tobias was on the run.  Nobody close to her was safe.  And when Tobias was locked up again, it will be another criminal that will prevent her from having a relationship. She could never be free to love anybody, unless the world was rid of crime, and that was never going to happen.  She closed her eyes.  She'd hardly slept last night. She remembered it was past two in the morning when she was still chatting to Blake before she dozed off, and then he carried her to her bed, and it was well more than hour later when she eventually got some sleep, but then some three hours later she had gotten up and went for a run, actually more like a ten kilometer sprint .

'Samantha,' she felt a warm hand caress her face, and a soothing voice call out to her.

She opened her eyes to see Blake on his knees in front of her, his face so close to hers, he was whispering something about dinner.

'I thought I told you not to sneak up on me,' she murmured, her sleepy eyes trained on his lips so close to hers.

'I'm in front of you, not behind you,' he grinned.

She smiled.   He had beautiful eyes when he was making mischief, she noted.

'Will you have dinner with me?' he requested, his fingers traced a path down her throat, touching that nerve that pulsed enchantingly on her throat.

Ah yes, he does not like to dine alone!

Samantha gazed into his eyes.  He was a handsome man was Blake Tresscott. Gorgeous expressive eyes, skin beautiful and smooth to the touch.  She remembered from the last time she touched him.  She did not find many men attractive without a shirt on, but Blake Tresscott looked damn irresistible with his shirt off.  Blake brought his head closer, his lips brushed hers softly. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel those sexy lips against hers. He kissed her one more time, his lips gently caressing against hers. Samantha leaned forward, her palm cupping his face, her lips parted and their tongues became entwined. She reached forward, angling her head, experimentally sampling the delightful kiss.

'Samantha there is a suite at our disposal,' Blake whispered hoarsely.

She pulled away. She shouldn't do this.  She should not lead him on that way. There was definitely an attraction between them, she just had to find a way to kill it.  She could not again go through what she had to after Brad, if another man had to be gunned down because of her__.

'I can't Blake. What happened in London__ it can't ever happen again, she got up trying to get away from him.

But he gripped her arm, and refused to let go, 'You know there's something between us,' he whispered, 'why are you fighting it?'

She looked into his eyes, saw the tenderness there, saw the invitation for them to begin something, but she could not offer acquiescence.  She was high risk.  People close to her became victims, just so her enemies could hurt her the only way they knew how.

'There's nothing between us,' she lied, 'we were just two people who took advantage of an opportunity that presented itself.  Now if you're still interested, let's have dinner,' she offered.

Blake stared at her for a very long moment before he rung the flight attendant to serve them dinner.

Samantha received an embarrassing hero's welcome when she walked into her office at NPS.  The news of her success traveled very quickly.  Apparently there were reports on the television, but she bet Peter had called her Director.  She knew they held a healthy regard for each other. Samantha reported back to her Director on the progress they had made on the Platinum case.  Carefully choosing her words, she updated him, that there were no grounds for any suspicion against Blake Tresscott.  She informed him that there were irregularities, and definite fraudulent activities in the trading of diamonds, but she had no proof yet to back her up.

She was told that Tobias was still on the run, and to that end, was also informed that she would have a "tail" following her twenty four seven, except in the confines of her home, or when she needed privacy.

Samantha received more respectful applause from her staff at the Operations Centre at Platinum. They were giving her a standing ovation, and how she disliked all the attention.  The "tail" had followed her discreetly on his own motor bike, he was merely introduced as one of her operatives, but studiously followed her wherever she went.

'Good morning everybody, and thank you,' she replied politely.

'Mr. Tresscott,' she offered a cool greeting to Blake, hoping he'd play ball.

'Good morning Samantha.  Did you have a restful night?'

So he's not going to play ball.

'Yes, thank you, 'she turned her attention as quickly as she could to the ladies, who very loudly heard Blake address her by her first name, but wisely refrained from any comment.

'We have the report you requested from London,' Kerry handed her a document.

Samantha thanked the ladies and walked to Blake. She stood next to him, showing him the document. 'Mr. Tresscott do we have your permission to interview your staff?' she requested.

He took the file, reading through the schedule of the names and dates of employees who were on duty who received the items into stock for the most recent deliveries.

'Don't read anything into it please.  This is just routine procedure,' she warned him.  Although she knew somebody on that list was the guilty party, she did not want Blake to pre-empt their audit findings.

'You may go ahead, but I want reports the minute the audit reveals anything untoward,' he requested.

'My colleagues will give you immediate feedback, when something shows up,' she promised.

Blake glared at her.  She was telling him, that she was delegating her responsibility to her subordinates, and that she would not be at his beck and call.

'I would like any reporting to be delivered by you Samantha. You are the head of this outfit, please ensure you keep me updated.

'If you insist Mr. Tresscott, that can be arranged,' she began walking out, 'I have another urgent case other than Platinum to deal with, so don't blow a gasket, if you have to  wait on me,' she shut the door softly as she exited to follow a lead on the whereabouts of Tobias.

Kate Jonas and Kerry Becker knew their superior officer did not take flack from anybody.  If they were surprised that the generally very professional Senior Superintendent Samantha St. Claire  gave Blake Tresscott a dressing down in front of an audience, they hid it well. The team went about their tasks quietly. They knew their boss did not shirk her duties, she worked hard and she worked long hours if she had to.  Blake should not assume she worked nine to five and then went home to watch soap operas. She had been known on occasion to go without sleep for a straight thirty six hours when she was on the field.

Samantha rode her bike to Kensington, following on a lead that Tobias visited  some Chinese contacts in that area. She made some discreet enquiries, but only got the run around. She thought she recognized a vehicle that Tobias favoured, but  when she approached it, weapon in hand, an old women was at the driver's seat, and had a hissy fit of note when she saw Samantha's gun. 

She then rode into the sleazy streets of Yeoville.  These days it seemed to be primarily inhabited by Zimbabwean refugees, and illegal Nigerian immigrants. There was a Nigerian night club bouncer who always knew and saw more than he was supposed to.  The bouncer knew Tobias, but claimed he had not seen Tobias for more than a month.  Her gut instinct told her he was telling the truth.  Some six hours later, Samantha returned to Platinum, she was feeling frustrated that Tobias seemed to be two steps ahead of her. As she parked her bike, she saw Blake's vehicle still parked in his parking spot.

She noted her "tail" park discreetly at a distance, but dismounted to follow her in.  Samantha was not going to go to Blake, or report anything to him tonight.  She will just study the files she requested, and read the findings of the last few days.  She  read the employee files, making a list of the employees she planned to start interviewing.  She left instructions for Kate to arrange three interviews for her for the following morning between eight hundred and ten hundred hours.

After the long day, her body was fatigued, jet lagged and tired from being constantly on the move. She wished she'd brought her car instead of the bike tonight, she felt like a leisurely drive in her car. 

She indicated by hand signal to the "tail" that she was heading home, he nodded assent.  She knew he would follow her there, where a second operative would then take over at her Melrose Arch premises.  It was close on twenty two hundred hours when she left Platinum.  Blake's vehicle was still there.  Could he have more than one vehicle at Platinum?  She could not believe he had not come to the Operations Room to annoy her, or flirt with her.  He must have heard her arrive there.  Her bike's engine was anything but silent.  Best he keep his distance, they were both safer that way.

Over the next forty eight hours Samantha was dropping calling cards in every sleazy pub and joint that she knew Tobias frequented, she was forcing his hand again.  He had to take the bait sooner or later.  He just had to. How long could he be on the run, he could not hide forever. Samantha did not have long to wait, in fact it was a mere three days later that her nemesis presented himself before her.

She had just returned from the gym, sweaty and in need of a shower, she had dropped her tog bag down, reached out to switch the lounge light on, but as she reached out, she felt a heavy thud, connect below the nape of her neck, dropping her to the ground on her hands and knees.

 'With supersonic speed, her leg reached out bringing her assailant to the ground,

'Why didn't you tell me you're dropping by, I would have ordered take out!' she threw at Tobias sarcastically, as she simultaneously hauled out her weapon, but he was quick.

'Pretty and a sense of humour, so sad you're going to make a beautiful corpse,' he returned, as he kicked viciously at her hand with the weapon, sending the weapon flying across the room.

Samantha winced from the pain, but flipped her body away, rolling three times, out of direct contact from Tobias foot.

She hoisted herself up on her left hand, throwing herself over the settee to get to the firearm, but Tobias threw himself on her, putting pressure on her damaged right arm. Using her left elbow, she put all her strength into it and connected sharply with Tobias' ribcage, he groaned painfully and shifted slightly, and when she got the advantage, used the strength of her own body to turn around and wrapped her ankles in a vice grip around his neck.  He screamed and kicked like a wild man fighting for his life.  Tobias seemed to know he'd hurt her right hand, or he observed she was not using it much, and he kicked out and again made contact with her injured hand.  Samantha gasped from the pain, but with nerves of steel, quickly raised herself up, and landed her right knee into Tobias' stomach.  He tried to get up clutching his stomach, when she kicked out again, and landed a fatal left foot into the side of his face. In a daze Tobias, shook his face.  She saw the blood trickling down his face, and in a flash she dived for her weapon and uncorked it, but in that instant, Tobias chose to quit while he was still able to breathe, flying through the closed window, making a hasty getaway.

Samantha dropped to her knees, trying to catch her breath, she held the firearm uncorked in her left hand.  It was a good thing she was a skilled markswomen equally proficient with her left and her right hand, in fact not many knew she was ambidextrous. 

Her front door flew open, Samantha rolled to the side and pointed her firearm at the figure at the entrance. She dropped her arm to the side when she saw her night shift "tail,"

'Sam, are you okay?' Chuck Trent asked

'Go after Tobias, he's heading South,' she instructed, still out of breath.

'Have you been hit, are you okay?' he asked with concern.

'I am fine, just out of breath, now go get Tobias,' she yelled.

'I don't take instructions from you Senior Superintendent,' he defied her, 'my only job is to stay in your immediate vicinity at all times,' Chuck Trent reminded her.

With painstaking effort, she raised herself up, using her left hand. Samantha went to her tog bag, and with protracted effort dialed Riley.

'Riley did the Magistrate sign the search warrant we requested for Tobias?' she asked calmly.

'No__'

'Who are you calling?' she demanded of her "tail", when she saw him taking out his radio.

He held his hands up in the air, when he saw her point her firearm at him, her eyes cold with furious anger.

With agonizing effort she transferred her gun to her right hand, and pulled the walkie talkie from his hand with her left hand and slipped it into her pocket.

'Your mobile Trent,' she demanded.

'Sam, I have to call in__'

She raised her firearm higher towards him. If he challenged her, she was a sitting duck, she did not think she would be able to pull the trigger. Not that she even had any intention of firing her weapon at an officer who was tasked to protect her. She just did not want him reporting the incident just yet, when she still had unfinished business to go out and attend to.

She reached out her left hand, and he meekly placed his mobile in her hand.

'Senior Superintendent what's going on,' she heard Riley yell from her forgotten cell.

'Riley hold on a minute,' she replied.

'Sit down,' she instructed her "tail", just now you and I are going to take a ride.

He raised his eyebrows at her disbelievingly.  Heck she must definitely look a mess, and a sight for sore eyes. Well she'll clean up nicely later.  When Chuck Trent was obediently seated, she picked up the conversation again with Riley.

'Where is our dear friend tonight?' Samantha asked Riley.

'What's going on there Boss?' Riley demanded.

'I've just had a friendly visit from Tobias,' she supplied.

'Are you okay Boss?'

'Yeah, I'm still breathing,' she murmured, 'so call the Magistrate and find out where the punk is, I'm going to him right now!' she demanded.

'He informed us yesterday he does not see the urgency in signing the warrant when we can't hold a prisoner when we have him,' Riley stammered.

'Is it our fault the good for nothing__.   Riley make the call now, and find out where I can meet the retard!' she demanded again, losing all patience.  Her wrist was throbbing, it was giving her a headache of note.

'Boss, he's at the Auberge Restaurant, perhaps we can wait till__'

'Thank you Riley, that's all for tonight,' she cut him off.

'Samantha picked up her car keys from the key holder and tossed it to Chuck Trent.

'Do you know the Auberge in Parktown? She asked him

He nodded.

'Let's go,' she instructed.  'Wait, give me a minute,' she requested, and hurried to the bathroom.

She washed her faced with her one good hand, tried to tidy her hair without any success. She cringed silently when she saw how her right hand was swelling at an alarming rate.

Samantha flashed her badge at the Maitre d.  Stormed in demanding to be pointed to where Magistrate Sutcliffe was seated. He saw Samantha walk towards him, and glared at her angrily.  He seemed to be entertaining a pompous Chinese dignitary that she knew off.

'Mr. Sutcliffe is there any justifiable reason why you do not do your job in office hours that I have to chase after you?' she demanded.

'Senior Superintendent St. Claire, I do not believe you warrant is a matter of life and death, you will have it tomorrow,' he brushed her off.

'You are sitting with it for three bloody days?' she raised her voice slightly.

'Ms. St. Claire, you are disturbing my evening, good night,' he ended their conversation.

'Mr. Sutcliff, is your wife aware of the brothel house you frequent on the other side of town?' Samantha flung at him, losing all patience.

Either she was in too much pain to observe her surroundings, or Samantha was so livid with the Magistrate, that she was not in control of all her senses.  For adjacent to where she stood, but a little out of her line of vision sat Blake Tresscott, dining with a rather attractive looking blonde number. 

Under normal circumstances she was extremely astute as to the goings on around her, but her arm was causing such excruciating pain, that her brain threatened to black out her entire nervous system. It was sheer unrepentant will and "never say die" spirit that still kept her standing on her feet.

From her body language, he knew she was spitting mad. He was curious about her entrance in to the rather exclusive restaurant with her gym gear on.

And what was she giving that Magistrate a hard time about? Surely he had rank over her!

The man's face was flushed like a tomato.  He looked like she had just taken the wind out of his sails.

'Are you threatening me, Ms. St. Claire?'

'You make the call Gigolo Boy,' she tossed a picture to the Magistrate of himself, in a very compromising position. I'm sure you don't want your teenage sons to see this picture in tomorrow morning's news paper of the man they call "daddy!"

'Do you have a copy of the warrant?' he mumbled resignedly.

Samantha raised her hand to Trent, who walked to the table, took out a document from his inside pocket, and handed it to her.

She reached out her left hand and forwarded it to Sutcliffe. She could not even raise her right hand an inch, it throbbed mercilessly. She wished she could slip her hand into her pocket, but the effort was gargantuan. Samantha began to walk out, leaving Trent to pick up the signed warrant.

'Ms. St Claire! __Ms. St. Claire, may I have a word with you,' the dignitary questioned?

'Don't offer me a job Ambassador?' she spoke quietly.

'You know who I am?' he was surprised.

She gave him a half smile, her eyes cold and unfriendly, 'I'm not for hire?' she tossed at him and stormed out.

Trent switched on the ignition, but turned to stare at Samantha in amazement. He now understood why they secretly called her the "Iron Lady."

'Trent,' she whispered.

'Yes, Sam?'

'Stop staring at me and get me to the hospital,' she mumbled, with painful effort pointing to her damaged wrist.

'God all mighty!' he exclaimed, seeing her arm looking like three times its normal size.

 Samantha had blacked out somewhere between the journey from the Auberge to the hospital, but she forced herself to stay wide awake now, as she was being wheeled to the X ray division.

'Sam, we haven't seen you for like a year, I thought you're being a good girl these days, 'Doctor Jason Roberts smiled easily.

'All you do is twiddle your thumbs, so I have to keep you busy,' she winced inwardly, as her arm was tossed about on the X ray apparatus.

'There's a nasty tear there, what were you doing using your hand as a football?' he questioned.

'Not me, but somebody thought, it looked like a football, amazing they don't even resemble the same shape,' she quipped.

'I'm booking you overnight for observation,' Dr Roberts informed her.

'No Jason, just patch me up, and I'm out of here.'

Over the six years she'd developed a friendly relationship with the hospital contracted to look after the NPS's agents. She'd been there a good couple of times. Injuries to the body were a commonplace occupational hazard.  Dr Roberts looked at Samantha, knowing full well, she would just force her own discharge anyway.

'You should consider retirement St. Claire.  Perhaps take up gardening,' he grinned.

'At the ripe old age of twenty eight, very funny,' she retorted.

Dr Roberts handed her a script, 'the injection I've given you will wear off in about three hours, you're going to need those pain killers.'

'Thank you,' she murmured.

'I guess I'll be wasting my time telling you to stay in bed for the next three days?' he questioned.

'Would you lie on your back for three days Jason?'

When he did not answer, she grinned, 'I'll be seeing you, and keep up the good work Doctor,' she mocked.

He saluted, then walked her and Trent out.

'What's the point of giving me body guards who don't take instructions from me?' she demanded from her Director who came to visit her at her home.

He looked away sheepishly, 'it's for your own good Sam, your safety is of paramount importance,' he informed her.

In the morning when she awoke, she thought she'd resume work, but her entire body felt like it had been to the panel beaters. Her arm was screaming with pain. Her entire body refused to cooperate, she wisely decided to shower and stay put.

For Samantha to call in sick, was tantamount to "Breaking News."  That is why her Director had come flying across town to satisfy himself on the true state of her injuries. She now had two posted guards twenty four seven. Satisfied that there were no fatal injuries, he instructed her to stay at home the next day as well. She tried to moan and groan and squeal her resistance, but he was hearing nothing.  Totally bored, she was making two trips a day to the gym, and through absolute determination and will she put her arm through a rigorous exercise regime.

She brought some of the weights home and continued the revitalization process at leisure.  Her left arm had always been more powerful than her right arm, but she was a natural right handed person, and wanted to regain some normalcy to it.

It was her second day at home and her mind began to wonder where it should not. The entire day her thoughts kept going to Blake Tresscott.  She wondered if he was around or away on business. She almost called him, to set up a meeting, except for the life of her she could not think of one item that she needed to discuss or converse with him about. She did call her team there, just to check in, and she also had to postpone the rest of the interviews she needed to complete.

Samantha was glad Tobias had made his escape. She was fully convinced she would have pulled the trigger aiming for his heart. She did not want his tainted blood on her carpet or his dead body in her home.  She walked around her apartment aimlessly picking up objects with her right hand, each one heavier than the previous.  She was doing well with all of that except she could not hold a pen yet. She tried repeatedly about three times, and when she failed for the third time, she flung the pen against the wall.

 Okay Samantha, calm down, you can do this.  Just be PATIENT!

'Okay, okay,' she murmured to herself, 'she brought her duvet to the lounge, tossed it on the floor, picked up the pen again, and lowered herself onto the duvet.

She picked up the pen with her left hand and placed it in between her right thumb and forefinger.  But her fingers would not close, the pen kept slipping away.

'No,' she groaned, no no no,' she dropped her head over her arms giving up.

The door bell buzzed, she groaned softly, 'Go away!' she whispered.

A few moments later she dragged herself up to answer it.  Her colleagues were filing in one after the other.  Dr Roberts had also paid a visit to check on her arm. She slipped on a jacket, so the bandage was not easily visible before she opened the door.  Actually now she understood why she was having Blake Tresscott withdrawal systems. She'd forgotten how handsome this gorgeous hunk was. She stood staring at him, like a tongue tied teenager, admiring his masculine frame casually draped against the door frame. She slowly released the oxygen she was holding in her lungs.

'This is where you're supposed to invite me in,' he smiled.

Samantha blinked, then stepped aside to allow him entry. Blake looked around admiring the economically furnished room, the cascading chandelier hanging from the high ceiling looked attractive.  Civil servants did not have the disposable income like Blake Tresscott  probably had in his bank account. Her lounge was uncluttered.  It held a plasma television screen.  A very powerful stereo system, and three leather settees. Potted indoor fern plants, were decoratively placed around the room.

'You have a very beautiful home Samantha.'

'Thank you.'  She supposed he was being polite.  She was proud of all she'd achieved from the salary she earned.  She had not received any inheritance from her dad.  Her mom did offer her funds from her dad's estate, but Samantha had declined, encouraging her mom to use it as she had no source of income.

Blake noted the duvet on the floor, the pen and pad on the duvet, although nothing seemed to be written on it.

'I see you rather enjoy relaxing on the carpet,' he smiled.

She lowered her head, her thoughts going to a specific night in London, she should not go there.

'These are for you,' he murmured, handing her the bouquet of red roses he brought.

She was tempted to reach out with her right hand, but she would feel like a total idiot, if she dropped them.  She adjusted the position of her body, so her left hand was closer to him and reached out to accept the roses.

'Thank you, they're beautiful.'

'It's a pleasure.' He smiled and followed her to the kitchen.

Oh heck, why the hell did he not stay in the lounge?

'Show me where the vase stays,' he murmured.

So he knows?

'I was informed by your Director,' he spoke quietly.

'It's in the cupboard beneath the sink,' she spoke softly.

He opened the cupboard that was neatly arranged with kitchen detergents and the said vase.

Blake filled it up about three quarters of the way, placed the roses in , propped them up, filled more water and took it back to the lounge. He looked around the room, identified the spot where he wanted the roses to stand and placed it there.  It was amazing how the bouquet added colour and some character to her stylish lounge.

'What would you like to drink?  I don't keep any alcohol,' she offered, 'unless you have your own mobile stock,' she smiled.

'Do you not drink any alcohol?' he enquired.

'I don't really care for it,' she shrugged her shoulders.

'I do have some stock in my car,' he grinned, 'would you join me if I brought in a bottle of red wine.'

'I'll join you with one glass,' she accepted.

'Perfect, I'll be right back.'

And before she could say,"UB40" he had returned.

'I'll find my way around your kitchen,' he smiled.

'Top shelf to the right of the sink,' she called out.

                                                                                 -end Chapter Five-