The Courier
Copyright 2008 by EC
EC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/

(warnings: erotic discipline, sex between adults, medical fetish, public nudity, 
harsh police interrogation)


Chapter 5 – Victor Dukov's house

Once Kim and her group had returned to her office, she began finalizing the 
details of Maria Elena’s immediate future. The prisoner needed a place to 
sleep that night, she needed to begin Danubian language lessons as quickly as 
possible, and she needed to find work within three days. 

Cecilia dispatched the language problem first. There was a new group of US 
exchange students at the National University who were enrolled in intensive 
Danubian language training to prepare for attending classes alongside local 
university students. Among Cecilia’s students there were two language groups: 
slow and advanced. The easiest and cheapest solution would be to have Maria 
Elena attend class along with in the slow group.

The next problem was where Maria Elena would work. She had to take a job 
that kept her body as exposed as possible, preferably something outside. A 
quick question determined that she did not know how to ride a bicycle, which 
eliminated the option of her being a document courier. Another option, the 
record store where Kim used to work when she was a criminal herself, was 
not available either. At any other time Kim could have called the owner and 
started Maria Elena as a window washer, but the previous week she had sent 
over two clients and the store definitely did not need any more. Any other 
customer service job was out of the question until she could speak Danubian. 

Kim shrugged her shoulders: “We have another day to think about that one. 
Let’s see what we’re gonna do about where she’s gonna sleep.”

It was getting late, so the only viable solution was for Cecilia to take Maria 
Elena home with her. She explained to the prisoner that she was living in the 
house of Victor Dukov, who was the brother of the country’s Prime Minister, 
Vladim Dukov. Victor was a recent widower whose sons were grown and had 
moved out, so he had made his house available for Cecilia and her nephew. 
There also would be a spare room for Maria Elena, at least for a few nights, 
until Kim could arrange long-term housing. Cecilia called Victor explaining 
the situation and getting permission to bring Maria Elena to the house. Then 
she turned to the prisoner and wryly asked:

“Well, right now you get to make your first decision as a criminal. Either you 
can come home with me, sleep in a comfortable bed, and have a decent meal; 
or you can be locked up in a holding cell and sleep there and wait until 
tomorrow morning to have something to eat. So what’s your choice?”

“I… I’ll go with you…”

“Good answer. Now, you understand that means you’re going back outside?”

Maria Elena nodded. Kim interjected:

“Tell her to stop nodding. You know that criminals are not allowed to nod, 
they have to answer ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when spoken to by someone who’s not a 
criminal. Tell her that.”

Cecilia translated, eliciting a very sad glance from the prisoner towards her 
Spokeswoman. The Dominican felt enormously sorry for her and was 
increasingly annoyed with Kim’s unsympathetic behavior towards her client. 
However, she held her tongue, having learned never to challenge protocol in 
Danubia, especially from a public official. She knew that it didn’t matter that 
Kim was her friend, because the Spokeswoman was a public official first; and 
a friend second.

At that moment a naked, very well-built young man showed up at the office. 
Upon entering he fell to his knees and placed his forehead on the floor.

“Good evening, Penitent Jason Schmidt. Please rise so you can fulfill your 
commitment to the Creator.”

Jason immediately stood up and kissed Cecilia. Noting the shocked expression 
on the prisoner’s face, Cecilia introduced him with the following explanation:

“This is my fiancé, Jason. He’s performing Public Penance for the Danubian 
Church, which is why he’s collared. Jason’s not a criminal, but he has to 
follow a lot of the same protocol.”

Maria Elena looked over Jason’s attractive body. He was deeply tanned from 
having spent the last four years of his life never touching any clothing. He had 
a very lean and muscular figure from constantly running and working out. By 
far he was the most attractive man she had ever seen close up. She noticed his 
collar was different from hers; it was smooth and rounded, had no ring, and 
had a key-hole that allowed it to be unlocked. 

Jason’s expression was shy, and right away Maria Elena could tell that Cecilia 
was the one who controlled their relationship. A quick glance sent an 
unspoken message to the prisoner: don’t even think about trying anything with 
him; he’s mine. Maria Elena was unnerved by how quickly her translator had 
picked up on her attraction to Jason, and how, without saying anything, she 
had issued a warning. 

----------

A few minutes later Cecilia, Jason, and Maria Elena exited the Central Police 
Station. Kim had issued some final instructions to Cecilia, telling her that she 
needed to have Maria Elena back in her office early the next morning. There 
was one final detail to take care of; the prisoner’s hair. As best she could, Kim 
quickly tied her hair in loose braids, telling her that she would need to have 
her hair properly braided before returning the next day. It was up to Cecilia to 
make sure Maria Elena’s hair was decent before she went out again.

Cecilia clearly was the one in the lead as her two naked companions followed 
her onto a large plaza that was dominated on each side by an important 
building. Directly in front of the police station was the city’s main courthouse, 
where Maria Elena would go on trial later that month. To the left was the 
Gothic cathedral she had passed earlier in the day. Opposite the cathedral was 
the National Parliament Building. The Courthouse and the National 
Parliament were attractive late 18th Century buildings; the Cathedral clearly 
was much older than that. The plaza itself was full of people walking to catch 
trolleys or sitting and conversing. 

Maria Elena still was horrified at having to be naked outside, but that feeling 
was starting to diminish. For the first time since her arrest, she was able to 
resist the temptation to cover herself. The fact that she was not the only naked 
person in her group helped her to accept her situation. The hot summer 
evening helped as well. She could tell that Cecilia was uncomfortable in her 
clothing, while Jason seemed perfectly relaxed and enjoying himself. 

They walked behind the cathedral and returned to the trolley stop. The first 
trolley that passed was an express returning to the airport. Maria Elena looked 
longingly as a few travelers got on with suitcases, presumably to fly out of the 
country. That trolley departed, only to be followed by another trolley going 
directly north towards the National University. Cecilia and Jason got on, 
followed my Maria Elena. 

Cecilia handed a coin to the fare-taker, but Jason and Maria Elena, because 
they were collared, did not have to pay anything. However, that also meant 
that Cecilia could take a seat, while Jason had to remain standing. Maria Elena, 
exhausted and still somewhat sick from her earlier ordeal, was looking 
forward to sitting down. The moment she approached an empty seat Cecilia 
admonished her:

“Stand up! You can’t sit!”

“What?”

“You’re collared! You’re not allowed to sit on public transportation. You have 
to remain standing so people can see you. Don’t you see Jason? He’s not 
sitting either.”

Maria Elena felt true despair as she took her place standing next to Cecilia’s 
naked fiancé. The trolley was about half-full, and it seemed everyone was 
staring at her. Part of the reason was that both she and Jason had attractive 
bodies that were pleasant to look at, but also the other passengers had 
overheard the two women conversing in Spanish, a language completely 
unknown in that part of Europe.

The trolley passed through an opening in the Old City Wall and into a 
neighborhood with elegant 19th Century architecture. A few stops later it 
entered a residential district of solidly-built 2-story houses along a pleasant 
tree-lined street. Cecilia put out her hand to allow Jason to help her stand up. 
Once she was standing, she gave him a quick slap on the bottom. Immediately 
he got out of the trolley and again offered his hand to assist her as she exited. 
To Maria Elena that scene was totally bizarre, because never had she seen a 
man appear to be so thoroughly under the control of a woman.

The trio walked along a very narrow street before arriving at a 2-story brick 
house. By Danubian standards the house was very nice, but it was not any 
larger than a typical upper-middle class home in Colombia. There were two 
large trees in front, several large windows, a solid wooden door, and another 
door on the side that led directly into the kitchen. The back yard had a wall 
around it, as was true for most houses in Danúbikt Móskt. Unlike most 
Colombian houses, however, the wall was not topped with barbed wire and 
there were no bars on the windows. Maria Elena noticed another significant 
difference. Not a single house on the street had a garage, none of the houses 
even had a driveway, and not a single car was parked anywhere in sight. The 
neighborhood, because of the absence of vehicles, was incredibly quiet.

When Cecilia knocked, a middle-aged man with a unpleasant expression 
opened the front door. Jason immediate went to his knees and touched his 
forehead to the ground. Maria Elena correctly assumed that she needed to 
follow Jason’s lead and sank to her knees as well. The man ordered Jason to 
stand up in Danubian and shook his hand. The young man turned to Cecilia 
and kissed her goodbye. It was clear that he wanted to take her in his arms, but 
it was equally clear that under the staring eyes of her host father he was not 
about to take such a risk. Instead he departed, his uncovered body standing out 
among the green trees and the brick houses as he walked away in the late 
summer dusk.

Cecilia explained that Jason lived with a different family, in the house of a 
retired Spokesman called Alexi Havlakt, who was an advisor and personal 
friend of the Prime Minister. It turned out the only reason Cecilia’s fiancé had 
accompanied the two women was to escort her back to her residence. 

“You’ll see that we’re all connected here. I live with the Prime Minister’s 
brother, Jason’s living with the Prime Minister’s best friend, Criminal # 98946 
is married to the Prime Minister’s son, and Spokeswoman Lee-Dolkivna used 
to live with Prime Minister Dukov.”

Maria Elena thought that detail was very strange; why should these North 
Americans be living with such important people? She wanted to press Cecilia 
for an answer, but held her tongue, assuming she would find out soon enough.

Cecilia told her companion to kneel upright so she could properly introduce 
her to Victor Dukov. The man gave his kneeling guest a quick nod of 
acknowledgement, listened to Cecilia’s explanation of her situation, and gave 
her another quick nod. He spoke in Danubian, as Cecilia translated.

“Victor is granting you permission to enter his house and sit at his table. You 
need to thank him by saying ‘Spakéebo dék’.

“Spakéebo dék.”

Victor nodded yet again and let out a quick whistle. Cecilia explained that was 
his signal that he had accepted her as a guest and that she was to enter his 
house.

“People communicate a lot in this country, not just with words, but also with 
whistles and hisses. A quick high-pitched whistle means ‘come along with 
me’. A long low-pitched whistle means the person disapproves of you or 
something you’ve done. A hiss is much stronger than that, almost an insult. 
There’s a lot more, but those are what you’ll need to know to get you started.”

Maria Elena got up and followed Victor and Cecilia into the house. Cecilia 
offered her the use of a bathroom, which she desperately needed, followed by 
a summons to have dinner. Seated at the table along with the elder Dukov was 
a married son and his very pregnant wife, Cecilia, and a seven-year-old boy 
she introduced as her nephew Pedro. Maria Elena expected Pedro to speak 
Spanish, but unlike his aunt, the only languages he knew were Danubian and 
English. Cecilia barely had time to eat because she was translating questions 
and comments for four other people, plus trying to listen to her nephew’s 
chatter about the day he had spent with some friends. 

By the time dinner was finished Maria Elena knew considerably more about 
both her host and about Danubia in general. Victor Dukov was the owner of a 
successful business communications company that offered services ranging 
from bicycle couriers, overnight package delivery, fax machine sales and 
servicing, and various Internet services. He employed 25 bicycle couriers, 
owned two stores, and operated an Internet café. His couriers were criminals 
that always started out riding bicycles and then, upon finishing their sentences, 
had the option of working in one of the stores. He openly admitted that having 
his brother as Prime Minister had helped his business tremendously because 
his employees spent most of their time moving documents between the 
government’s various ministries.

Victor talked about his earlier life when he had only five couriers and that 
Kimberly Lee had worked for him. It was clear that he was very fond of her, 
remembering her as one of his best employees. He reflected that in a way she 
still continued to work for him, because all of his current workers were clients 
that the Spokeswoman had recommended. “I don’t have to advertise for 
employees at all. Kim’s the one who picks them out and interviews them. 
Having her assistance is like having a hiring agent working for me for free.”

Maria Elena clearly was worn out by the time dinner was finished. Now that 
her stomach was full, she was nodding off, in spite of her efforts to show 
courtesy by paying attention to her hosts’ conversation and Cecilia’s 
translations. The Dominican came to her aid by excusing herself and 
requesting permission to take Maria Elena upstairs. Once again she had to 
kneel and repeat “Spakéebo dék”, but then she was released. 

Cecilia ordered the prisoner to take a bath and brush her teeth before she could 
sleep, emphasizing that Danubians were fastidious about cleanliness. She also 
ordered Maria Elena to wash and thoroughly comb her hair, because the next 
morning it would have to be braided. While the Colombian was in the 
bathroom, Cecilia stripped off the covers from the bed that she would be using, 
because even in her bed she would not be permitted to cover her body. 
Fortunately the evening was warm, so hopefully she would be able to adjust to 
sleeping naked with no covers.

Once Maria Elena was out of the bathroom, Cecilia approached her with a thin 
dry dishcloth.

“Pass this under your collar after you’re cleaned up. The skin under your 
collar will chafe if you leave your neck wet, and I can tell you that’s not 
something you want.”

Once the prisoner dried her neck, Cecilia showed her the bed and explained 
that she couldn’t cover herself, even while sleeping. Then she looked hard at 
her companion. 

“Maria Elena, I have a question. I need to know if I can trust you.”

“Trust me?”

“To not try to escape once we’re all asleep. I want you to understand that 
Spokeswoman Lee-Dolkivna has taken a personal risk in delaying your trial 
and not locking you up. She’s placing trust in you. I’m placing trust in you. 
Victor Dukov is placing trust in you. We all understand that you’re scared. 
I’m not gonna try to convince you that everything will be OK, because your 
life as a criminal is not gonna be easy. But you have to understand that we’re 
doing what we can to make it bearable.”

Maria Elena said nothing. She was accustomed to being told that everything 
would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about. She was accustomed to 
being constantly lied to, to listening to pleasant words that had no meaning, 
mixed with threats that were very real indeed. Cecilia’s blunt statement came 
as a surprise to her, because she had been expecting to be told, once again, 
that everything would be fine and not to worry. She didn’t know how to 
respond, because she was indeed pondering if there was any way she could get 
out of the house, find some clothes, get her collar off, and try to escape. She 
couldn’t bring herself to deny that was what she was thinking.

Had Cecilia told her that everything was going to be fine and not to worry; 
Maria Elena could have lied and attempted to escape with no regrets. It was 
obvious, however, that Cecilia cared enough about her to tell the truth about 
what the future held for her. There was no mystery, no surprises… she knew 
what she faced as a criminal in Danubia. Almost without realizing what she 
was doing, she confessed:

“I was thinking… about trying to escape. I… I’m sorry…”

“That’s what I suspected. Of course, you do understand that there’s no way 
you could get away? That collar has a transmitter on it. The moment we 
noticed you were missing we’d call the police and they’d locate you. Even if 
you got the collar off, where would you go? What would you do? You 
wouldn’t exactly blend in. You don’t have any money. People would notice 
your hair. You couldn’t talk to anyone. There’s no Colombian embassy here. 
Your passport’s gone. You try to run, and the only thing you’d do would be 
add to the number of switchings you’d get in your sentence. More 
switchings… that’s the only thing running’s gonna get you. More switchings.”

Before Maria Elena could think of a response, Cecilia changed the subject:

“There’s something else that I want you to think about. For your plane trip, 
you were supposed to get 1,000 Euros and a visa, correct?

“Yes.”

“For one kilo?”

“Yes.”

“From what I know, 1,000 Euros and an EU work visa seems an awful lot for 
moving one kilo. Are you totally sure you would have gotten that? I mean, did 
you… ever talk to anyone else who flew a kilo to Germany? Did you even 
know those guys, I mean… before you went to Panama City?”

Maria Elena paused, realizing that no, she had never talked to anyone who had 
worked for Alex.

“No. I didn’t know them…”

“And you weren’t flying with anyone else? No partners?”

“No, I was alone.”

“That’s not normal, Maria Elena. Usually they fly couriers in groups, or at 
least pairs.”

“People do it all the time. I’ve heard of plenty of people going by 
themselves.”

“Yes, but in your case, to me it seems something wasn’t right. I don’t know… 
maybe Alex is a really great guy and he was trying to do you a favor, but I 
doubt it. If I had been you, I would have checked things out a bit more 
carefully before getting mixed up with him.”

“There wasn’t any time. Everything was so rushed…”

“What you mean was that he didn’t give you any time. Time to think… time 
to have some doubts… you’re right about that… no time, but you need to ask 
yourself why.”

Maria Elena was silent, not sure how to answer her companion’s skepticism. 
Cecilia waved her hand to get the prisoner’s attention:

“So, can I trust you or not?”

“Yes, you can trust me. I promise I won’t try to run away.”

“In this country, people never promise. They simply say what they’re gonna 
do.”

----------

A few minutes later Maria Elena was soundly asleep on her bed. She was 
lying on her stomach and gripping her pillow, which was the only item 
besides herself that was on the bed. Until she lay down, she had not realized 
how tired she was after not having slept over the last 72 hours. The previous 
night, of course, had been spent awake in that school. However, she had not 
slept the night before either, because she lay awake restless in Panama City, 
both terrified of what she was about to do and eager to start her new life in 
Europe. She was beyond exhausted; too tired to even care that she was forced 
to lie naked on top of a sheet.

Cecilia told Pedro to get in bed before going downstairs to briefly talk to 
Victor. Then she went to her room and got on the Internet to deal with 
correspondence and e-mails that had built up over the day. Unlike Maria 
Elena, it would be several hours before she could go to sleep, because after 
answering her e-mails she had to work on progress reports for her students.

----------

Victor Dukov watched Cecilia as she climbed the stairs to return to her room. 
He reflected that it had been four years since she and her nephew had first 
come to his house. She had come to live with him and his wife after having 
fled the United States with her boyfriend Jason. A very strange couple indeed, 
but it was because of them that his brother was still Prime Minister and 
Danubia still had an independent government. The entire country owed them a 
tremendous debt, so to allow her to stay in his house all that time, even if a 
rambunctious small boy was part of the deal, was nothing to him.

Four years… how much everything in his life had changed in just four years. 
Four years ago his youngest son was still living at home and his wife was still 
alive. They were both gone: the son working at a new customs inspection 
station at the southern border, and his wife was in the Realm of the Afterlife.

Victor took off his clothes and put on a black prayer robe. He then returned to 
his living room, knelt in front of a black-framed portrait of his wife, and began 
praying. He had lost her, and fully understood that her death was due to his 
own negligence.  


Victor’s wife had been the one person in his life who was patient enough to 
withstand his ill temper. She understood that he was not good at expressing 
himself, which frustrated him and made him seem much meaner than he really 
was. She gave him a family and sense of purpose, wearing herself out raising 
three sons as well as helping him with his business venture. She always 
supported him, even when it seemed his courier service was not going to 
succeed. For years she was indispensable, spending long hours making sure 
his bookkeeping was in order so he could attend to his employees and their 
assignments. Without her, his sons would not have grown up to be responsible 
adults and the business would not have survived. He fully understood that. 

Yes, Victor’s business had expanded tremendously over the past several years, 
but that expansion came at a huge personal cost. His wife started having 
strange pains in her body, but she chose to ignore them. She had felt nauseous 
and faint, but she pressed on. Towards the end Victor knew that she didn’t 
look very good, but he dismissed the thought that anything could be seriously 
wrong. He figured that he would take her on vacation and with some rest 
she’d feel better.

The vacation was supposed to be during the summer, but in April she finally 
went to see a doctor. At the appointment the Dukovs found out what was 
really going on; that she had advanced cancer and that it had spread 
throughout her body. There wasn’t anything that could be done, because she 
was way beyond the point that treatment could have done her any good. By 
June she was dead.

It was August now, and Victor still had not come to terms with what had 
happened. If only he and his wife had taken better care of their bodies, seen 
their doctors on a regular basis, it was for sure the cancer would have been 
detected in time for something to be done about it. It really had been up to him 
to watch out for her, because she was too busy with his needs to think about 
her own.

----------

Victor finished his prayers and rose to his feet. For a very long time he stared 
at his wife’s picture, unsure what to do next. He knew that eventually he 
would have to go to bed and face another day. He now had a total of 63 
employees: couriers, clerks, salespersons, accountants, and supervisors. Those 
people depended on him. Cecilia and her nephew depended on him. Even his 
brother, the Prime Minister, depended on him. He had a grandchild that would 
be born within a month, so dwelling too much in guilt would do him no good. 
He felt responsible for what had happened to his partner in life, but now he 
also was responsible for the futures of so many others. How to balance all 
that… what should have been with what would be in the future? Really… how?

Victor walked upstairs and passed the door to the room where the Colombian 
girl was sleeping. The door had been left open, because as a criminal she had 
to sleep uncovered in an open room. The light from the hallway illuminated 
her attractive figure. 

He stood in the doorway contemplating his new guest, wondering how long 
she’d be at his house. He vaguely suspected it would be more than “just the 
few days” that Kim had told him. The truth was that, until she could learn 
some Danubian, she would have to stick close to Cecilia and living with her 
was the only realistic option. He then realized that if the Colombian stayed 
longer than a few days, he really didn’t mind. For some reason he found her 
interesting and was not in any hurry to get rid of her. Strange… he was 
completely unable to communicate with that girl, and yet she fascinated him... 

----------

A few hours later Maria Elena woke up. At first she was totally confused. The 
room was unfamiliar, she was naked on an uncovered bed, and she had a 
metal collar around her neck. Most disconcerting was the total silence. She sat 
up and covered herself with her hands, trying to figure out what had happened. 
Surly this must be some weird dream… 

She touched the collar and looked around the room. Then she felt the bruises 
in her bottom and the welts on her thighs. Those hurt for real… no dream. At 
that point the memories of the previous day started coming back and she 
realized where she was. No dream… she was in a stranger’s house, in a totally 
foreign city, where it seemed there was only one other person who spoke 
Spanish. 

She touched the collar again and put her finger through the metal loop. No 
escape… there was no escape. She could go downstairs and even step out the 
front door if she wanted, but because that collar had a transmitter on it, there 
was no escape.

No escape. It was not only because of her collar there was no escape, it also 
was because she had nowhere to run. Really… no where to go. Without 
money and a visa there was no point in trying to go to Spain. Most certainly 
she did not want to be deported back to Colombia. Many of her friends had 
wanted to go to the United States, but for some reason she had no desire to go 
there, nor did she want to go anywhere else in Latin America. Her earlier 
thoughts of running now seemed silly, because even without her collar, she 
was trapped.

Maria Elena slipped downstairs and decided that she did indeed want to step 
outside. However, she propped open the front door to make sure she could get 
back in. The pre-dawn darkness was incredibly peaceful, because there were 
no sounds of traffic to disturb the quiet. No one was moving about; she was 
totally alone on the solitary street. There was a slight rustling of leaves in the 
night breeze, but that was it. The cool air seemed to caress her bare body. For 
the first time since her arrest, she actually was enjoying the sensation of being 
naked outside.

She reflected that it only had been 18 hours since she had been arrested, and 
yet so much had changed in that short time. She wondered what happened in 
Frankfurt when Flight 2298 finally arrived, and El Flaco stood by, waiting for 
a call from her cell phone that never came. Maria Elena guessed that he 
probably called Alex to confirm that a courier was indeed supposed to be on 
that flight. They would have spent the rest of the morning figuring out that the 
flight had been diverted to Danubia, that Maria Elena traveled as far as 
Danúbikt Móskt, but that she never made it back on the plane. The only 
question remaining would have been to determine whether she had been 
arrested by the Danubians or whether she had decided to not re-board the 
plane on her own, in hope of stealing the cocaine she was carrying and trying 
to sell it herself. As for the boyfriend who had been responsible for her getting 
into drug trafficking in the first place, Maria Elena was realistic. Undoubtedly 
already he was working on some other idiotic naïve girl, using his fancy car 
and expert Salsa dancing to seduce someone equally as stupid as herself. It 
was likely that he already had totally forgotten about her.

There was one change that she could be happy about. She realized that her 
Spokeswoman probably was right when she asserted that in Danubia, Maria 
Elena was totally safe from Alex and El Flaco. She would not have been so 
safe from them had she gone to Spain… and… 

Suddenly Cecilia’s words of doubt entered her mind… 1,000 Euros… that 
was indeed a lot of money. Was it possible that El Flaco really had no 
intention of actually giving it to her? What if Cecilia was right? El Flaco 
didn’t know her, so what would have prevented him from murdering her and 
keeping the 1,000 Euros for himself? Now that she had some time to reflect, 
that frightening possibility loomed in her imagination. Another scenario 
forced itself into her thoughts. Germany… why did they have her fly to 
Germany? Wouldn’t Spain have been more logical? Maria Elena didn’t speak 
any German; so in that country she would have been totally helpless… 
especially if they took her passport. Maybe that was what they wanted? Yes… 
she had heard stories about women from all over the world traveling illegally 
to various Western countries and ending up… 

Maria Elena tried to catch her breath. She thought about Cecilia’s questions, 
and started remembering various details in Panama City, small things that 
should have alerted her that she was placing herself in very grave danger. She 
chose to ignore those warnings, because she was so blinded by her dream of 
going to Spain. She realized, she now knew, that there was no chance that El 
Flaco simply would have paid her off and allowed her to leave Germany. No, 
he had something much more sinister in mind for her. A terrifying thought: 
had she not been arrested, had she continued on to Germany, would she even 
still be alive right now?

----------

Trembling with fear and badly shaken, she went back inside, closing the door 
behind her. She went to the bathroom and managed to calm her nerves. To 
distract her mind from her frightening situation, she stopped in the hallway 
and studied herself in a full-length mirror. She realized that her figure was 
attractive. That came as a surprise to her, because she never really had looked 
at herself naked in a full length mirror before. She still had tan-lines from the 
swimsuit that she normally wore in Colombia, but she knew those would be 
gone within a few days; one more detail from her previous life that was 
destined to disappear.

Maria Elena returned to her bed and fell back asleep. She had only been up an 
hour, but during that short time she clearly understood that she needed to 
accept what had happened. The only future for her would be a future in 
Danubia, because for her there were no alternatives. 

The Path of her Life… as the people around her kept saying…