The Courier
Copyright 2008 by EC
EC's Erotic Art & Fiction - http://www.ecgraphicarts.com/

(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 
taking 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, 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 fiance, 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 rather 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 tremendously 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 fiance.  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 Danube City.  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 rather 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 Ceclia 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 fiance 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 ‘Spakeebo dek’.

“Spakeebo dek.”

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 cafe.  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 
“Spakeebo dek”, 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 
and the room somewhat hot, 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 gonna be very difficult.  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 15,000 Euros and a visa, 
correct?

“Yes.”

“For one kilo?”

“Yes.”

“From what I know, 15,000 Euros seems an awful lot of money 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 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 in Rika Chorna 
Province, and his wife was with the Creator.

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 indispensible, 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 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, 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 shoulders.  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 that only one other person 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 rather 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 Danube City, 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 naive 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…5,000 
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 15,000 
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 travelling 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 quite 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…


