The Princess of the Desert -- Chapter 15 -- Conclusion

Printer-friendly version

The Princess of the Desert

By Melodie Thomas

Edited by Holly Hart

Chapter 15

Unknown day or date
The world started coming back to me slowly, with the first indications that I was regaining consciousness was the awful pounding in my head as the effects of the drug started to wear off. I could not open my eyes yet, but my head felt like it was in a vise, and I felt like I would vomit at any second. The second thing I noticed was the floor I was laying on was moving, up and down, like on a wave, and that motion was not helping my head or my stomach. I tried to move and was greeted with a screaming pain in both of my shoulders. As my awareness increased, I realized that my hands were handcuffed behind me, but not to each other. My right hand was handcuffed to my left ankle, and my left to my right ankle. I was in the position of being hogtied, but nothing around my neck. I was lying on my stomach, on the floor and as my eyes were able to open, and my ears started registering sound, I realized I was on a boat. I had no idea how long I had been here, or how long I had been tied up this way, but my shoulders and knees were screaming in protest. I appeared to be in some kind of storage compartment that was just long enough and high enough for me to fit into, but no room to move.

I tried to look around the compartment the best I could, but there was little light, or little to be seen. From where I was laying, I could not tell where the door to the compartment was, so I lay my head back down and tried my best to control my breathing, to focus my mind away from the pain in my arms, legs and head. The best I could tell, I had no other injuries, so the only option I had was to wait until someone came for me and see what options were available then.

The human mind has a limit to the amount of pain that it can tolerate, and I was wondering when I would reach that point as the boat ride continued on for what seemed like hours. Each crash over a wave caused a new wave of nausea, and a renewed screaming in my joints. I thought I was about to reach the limit of sanity when I heard the sound of the engine change and the magnitude of the wave crashing start to decrease. At first I thought I was hearing things, but soon I could definitely feel a slowing in the motion as the ride slowly started to smooth out. A few minutes later, I could hear the engines pitching up, then down and the boat motion was erratic, then I felt a bump and we hit something solid, then the engine shut off, we had docked.

I was anxiously waiting for something to happen. Not only was my body screaming, but with the stopping of the boat, the air in the box was getting hotter and harder to breath. After a few minutes I felt like I was suffocating and being cooked alive at the same time. Time seemed to go on forever, and I started to feel panic set in, not from the pain but from the difficulty breathing. I started to squirm, which just caused magnified pain in my shoulders.

Suddenly the compartment wall on my left opened, with the wall lifting upward. The rush of fresh, cool air was almost like a blessing as I sucked in the cool air. While I was trying to catch a breath, a hand reached into the compartment and grabbed my bindings in the center of my back and pulled them towards the opening, causing me to roll up on my side. The movement sent new waves of pain throughout my entire body and I let out a small cry. However, my body did not stop moving when it reached the side as there was nothing there to hold me. I continued to roll over onto my back, with nothing but open air underneath me. I felt myself falling as I continued to rotate and suddenly impacted the floor on my right side with no warning or chance to brace myself. Landing on my right shoulder forced a cry out of my mouth as it felt like the shoulder was being torn off. As soon as the shoulder hit, my head bounced off of the steel plates of the floor and I lost my battle with the nausea and immediately vomited.

“It does not seem that our guest enjoyed our accommodations all that much. Shame really, Mr. Jones, could you please get a deck hose and clean up our guest?” I heard in a heavy accent above me.

I looked up and saw a man in a white sailor outfit and wearing the white hat of a sea captain, standing on a deck platform above me. I was about to ask who he was when I was hit in the face with a hard spray of salt water that went into my mouth and nose and started me choking. The spraying continued until all of my vomit was washed overboard and I was soaked from the waist up.

Gasping for air, I looked back at the man standing above me. “Who are you?” I croaked.

“Oh, my apologies for the error in my manors, Agent McNeil, I am Robert Brajovik, the Capitan of the ship that you just had the pleasure of riding on. I was hoping for a better greeting than that, maybe even a tip, but I guess you can’t please everyone.” He responded with a big smile on his face.

“Where is Stephanie?” I croaked out again.

“Stephanie?” Brajovik answered, “Oh, we found work for her on the last part of our journey. She is below entertaining my crew for a job well done. There were only ten of them, so she should be done shortly.”

I felt a crushing feeling in my chest, know what was happening to Stephanie, but there was nothing I could do, so I just lay my head back down on the deck.

“Now, Mr. Jones, please make sure the Agent McNeil’s hands are still bound, but release his feet.” I heard Brajovik order.

I felt someone behind me connect a set of cuffs on my wrists, followed by some fumbling then the pressure was released on my legs, one at a time. As my legs straightened out, the pain shooting through both knees and hips felt like a hot iron, and I could not help the groan that escaped my lips.

As soon as my legs were released, a set of hands grabbed each of my shoulders and lifted me to my feet. As my legs tried to carry my weight, they nearly collapsed, causing me to fall back against the bulkhead of the ship. The hands continued to hold my arms while I tried to get my legs to work again.

Though my eyes were watery from the pain in my legs, I got the first look at where I was. The boat was docked against a wooden pier that extended away from a sandy beach, lined with palm trees. From the smell in the air, the warmth of the air and the look of the land, we were at some tropical island or cove. From a cabin forward from me on the boat, I watched as four girls walked toward the gang plank that exited the boat. One was the girl that Stephanie called Vicky, two others I did not recognize, but the forth was Jill, with her arm in a sling.

As the girls reached the gangplank, another woman coming on board the boat greeted them. “Well done girls, welcome back.” I heard a similar accent to Brajovik’s.

“Thank you, Mistress,” all four answered in unison.

“Jill,” the woman said, “I hear that you were a great help to your sisters on this mission, you will be rewarded.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Jill answered, looking at the floor.

“Girls, take Jill to the infirmary and have her arm tended to, then return to your quarters.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they all answered in unison again.

The woman continued onto the boat and started walking in my direction. She had long black hair that nearly reached her waist, was wearing white shorts and a white top that left little to the imagination.

“Agent McNeil,” the woman said, “I am Anya Brajovik and I am very pleased to meet you.”

“I have been hoping to meet you too, but I hope you don’t expect me to call you ‘Mistress,” I answered, feeling to level of bravado starting to return.

Anya laughed, “No, Agent McNeil, you may call me Anne. I will say that you are either a very talented, thus very dangerous man, or the luckiest man I have ever met, which makes you just as dangerous.”

I had a number of foolhardy comments at the tip of my tongue, but at once, common sense told me to keep my mouth shut.

“Either way,” Anya continued, “it is good to have you here, but I really doubt you will enjoy what we have in mind for you.”

“I want to see Stephanie,” was all I responded with.

Robert laughed, “No, Agent McNeil, I don’t think you would. Like I said, she is a bit busy right now.”

Just then I heard a scream come from inside the ship and instantly recognized it as Stephanie’s voice. I tried to lung forward and surprise the ones holding me, but my legs could not handle the movement and I stumbled. As I stumbled forward, a fist found its way into my sternum and I folded in half, collapsing back on the deck.

“Take him to the holding area.” I heard Robert command.

The pairs of hand again grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me to my feet. Though I tried walking, I still did not have enough control over my legs to keep up with the two guys escorting me, so they were more dragging me off of the boat than me walking. I was dragged down the pier to a house that was mostly hidden behind some palm trees. Instead of going into the house, I was taken around the side where a set of stairs led down. At the bottom of the stairs, we entered a damp and musky basement area that had a number of rooms with heavily barred doors. I was led up to one of the rooms, pushed inside and the door closed and locked behind me.

The next day
Though I can’t see outside, I can tell if the sun is up or not based on the light seen through the door leading outside. I know the sun was up when they locked me in here. I have since seen the sun go down, come back up and now it appears to be going down again. No one had come to see me, give me food or give me water. My hands are still locked behind my back and I have not seen or heard another living soul. Though my stomach is growling with hunger, the biggest issue is I need water. My tongue feels like it is swollen to twice its normal size and my lips are starting to split from being dry. One of the things I remember from crisis training at both the FBI academy and from the military is don’t panic, as that only causes you to use up energy of which you already are in short supply. I knew they knew I was down here, so, I also knew that calling out or trying to get attention would do nothing but consume my critical energy supplies.

Instead, I spend my time focusing on Stephanie. I knew that whatever I was going through was child’s play compared to what she was dealing with, back in their hands again after being free for almost a year. I kept telling myself if she was tough enough to survive this, then I would be tough enough to survive with her. Mostly, I was praying we would both, somehow, find a way to survive.

The last image of Tina, sprawled out on the floor with her face covered in blood, haunted me as well. I had no idea if she was alive or not.

Night had definitely settled when I saw a light heading my direction from the other end of the hallway. Two guys walked to the front of my cell, opened the door and signaled me to come out. I cautiously approached them, but they must not of have thought I was moving fast enough, as one of them grabbed me by the shoulder, pulled me out the door and pushed me in the direction they came from. The momentum caused me to lose my footing, and I fell hard to my knees on the concrete floor. Wordlessly, one of the men walked up behind me, grabbed the chain between my cuffs and lifted, pulling my arms up behind me. The backward rotation of my shoulders left me no choice but to get to my feet as quickly as I could as the man behind me continued to lift. Once I was standing, he held my arms just at the pain point as he pushed me down the hall.

At the end of the hall I was directed to a set to stairs leading up, which put me one step higher than the guy behind me, easing the pain in my shoulders somewhat, but I was still in no position to do anything. As we reached the top of the stairs a door was opened and I was pushed into a room that looked like the lobby of a resort. There were a number of chairs and small couches scattered around various tables. In the center of the room was a larger coffee table that had a couch on one side and two overstuffed chairs on the other. I was directed to one of the overstuffed chairs and held there in a standing position.

“Please release his hands, but guard him closely. Have a seat Dan.” I heard a voice from behind me.

I tried to turn my head, but was held in place by the guy holding my cuffs. I felt activity around my wrists as one of the cuffs was released and I was pushed into the chair. I turned myself so I was sitting in the chair properly and slowly trying to work my shoulders due to the stiffness as Vivian Vasnev walked up and sat on the couch opposite me. Though I was surprised to see her, I tried to maintain a passive expression on my face. I tried to take a quick look around the room; the two guys that just brought me in moved over to my left, about thirty feet away. Both had automatic weapons in their hands. I could sense someone behind me but did not turn to look. With Vivian, the best count I had was four people in the room with me.

“Hello, Vivian.” I said in a very dry throated croak.

“Vicky,” Vivian spoke to someone behind me, “would you please bring Dan a cup of water. Please make it a plastic cup.”

“Yes, Madam.” I heard from behind me.

Vivian then looked at me, “You have been a real problem for me, Dan, and a real challenge at the same time.”

“I am not sure if I am supposed to apologize or not.” I responded, as the girl I had seen in the hotel handed me a plastic cup of water.

“Oh, most of it was really not your fault; at least I don’t think you did any of it on purpose.” Vivian smiled at me. “But that doesn’t make you any less of a problem.”

I really had no idea what she was talking about, but while she was talking, and not shooting me, I wanted to learn what I could. “Vivian, what is this all about?”

“You mean my little operation or our conversation?”

“Both, really.”

“What my husband’s sadistic father discovered years ago, was a gold mine in human behavior control, but he was far too stupid to truly understand it. When Anya rediscovered his notes, some years back, she and I started discussing what some of the potentials were and thus our little business was born.”

“What business?”

Vivian raised her hand in the air and signaled to someone behind me. The girl known as Vicky gracefully walked around my chair took Vivian’s hand and sat, very ladylike, on the arm of the couch. She had a perfect figure and a smile that would match Stephanie’s, any day. As with Stephanie, it was impossible for me to picture that this person use to be a man.

“We offer for hire, the best covert operators and assassins in the world. Perfectly trained, unquestionably loyal and more than willing to accept the ultimate sacrifice if needed. They can fit into any cover, and blend with any environment. Vicky here is part of the best group we ever had, which, by the way, is the same group that Stephanie came from.”

“If they were so good, why were you trying to kill them off for some low life videos?”

Vivian shook her head in disgust, “That was that worthless piece of shit Garcia. We had four excellently trained girls in that group we sent to Arizona, Erin, Lucy, Vicky and Stephanie. That asshole Garcia decided to use them as his personal play toys. Erin died and we thought Stephanie had too, until you sent her back to us. I would have spent anything to kill that bastard.”

“So, that is how they knew where he was so easily,” I said as though thinking out loud. “If Stephanie was one of your superstars, why did you get her back in the case, why try to kill her, why not just take her and run when you could?”

Vivian laughed out loud, “You are such a naive young man, and really not all that bright. Lovable, I agree, but not that bright. We were never trying to kill Stephanie, Dan, we were trying to kill you.”

I guess I could not hide the shocked look on my face.

“You see, Dan, something happened to Stephanie that I did not think was possible with any of my girls. She fell in love with you. You became her biggest motivation factor. I had her back for six months and I could not get past her love for you and get her back into the fold.”

“Ivan told me you created her love for me.”

“That is what I wanted Ivan to think, so he would put doubt between you, but even that did not work. For some reason, my beautiful Stephanie, fell in love with you and I could not break that tie. The only choice was to kill you and remove the focus of her love. The attempt at the court house in Albuquerque was designed to kill you. We failed and Stephanie’s love for you only grew.”

‘So, it was true, Stephanie’s love for me is as real as my love for her’. I thought to myself as my eyes just focused on the table in front of me.

“So, why are we having this conversation?” I asked, “why not just kill me now?”

Vivian smiled, “Unfortunately, Dan, that is exactly what I intend to do, but it will need to be more traumatic than that. Stephanie truly fell in love with you, and it was really a shock to me to find that kind of love could over write the years of work that I put into her. Kind of sad really, if you believe in such things. You see, Stephanie has built too close of a tie with you and your family, so only she will be able to break that relationship and she needs to do so willingly, then she will be mine again.”

I was about to ask for an explanation when I caught a movement to my right. Turning my head I saw Stephanie stumble into the room, as if she were pushed, followed by Charkov.

“Charkov?” I exclaimed as I bolted upright in the chair.

I had only sat up straight, quickly, but felt the sudden pressure of something hard against the back of my head and knew instantly what it was.

“Hello, Agent McNeil,” Charkov growled through clenched teeth, “sorry I cannot speak well, but I have been taking care of your little Stephie for you.”

Charkov was supposed to be with Smith, how could he be here? But, then again, I never saw him again after we left Manila; I only saw the reports from the interview. Was the whole thing a scam? I felt my whole being sinking. If Smith was in on this, then there would be no Cavalry coming to the rescue, nobody would be coming to the rescue.

Stephanie was pushed further into the room and I could see the bruises and tears on her face. Her lower lip was split and dried blood still formed a trickle from the corner of her mouth. She was wearing a see through white blouse with nothing underneath, and I could see long streaks of blood seeping through from her back. Her eyes were downcast, with no expression on her face.

Vivian signaled to the two guys that had brought me into the room, and they approached me, grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing me back to a standing position against the wall.

“You see, Dan,” Vivian said, still seated on the couch, “we had to put poor Stephanie through a little extra conditioning, but now she will rejoin our fold, and to do that, she will kill you for us.”

Stephanie was pushed over to the table in front of Vivian, where she continued to look down at the floor. Vicky walked over to Stephanie and set my S&W 10mm on the table in front of her, and then walked away, staying to my right.

I quickly glanced around the room to see what I had for options. There was one guy on each side of me, both with automatic weapons, I could attack one of them but never get both. Vicky was to my right, holding another pistol of some sort, Charkov was behind Stephanie, but did not appear to have a gun. I needed more time to think this through.

“Before you kill me,” I quickly said, “obviously Smith was involved in all of this, so what was the charade in Manila and in Hawaii? Why send the SEALs to rescue us?”

“It is really very simple,” Vivian said, “the Manila operation was simply a pickup but we wanted to expose Stephanie to Charkov and some of my girls to see if it would trigger her programed responses. Unfortunately, it triggered the wrong response as poor Mr. Charkov can attest to.”

“And the dead girl?” I asked, trying to stall more time.

“That was really a surprise, she jumped one of our men while they trying to restrain her. She got ahold of a weapon and they had no choice. There was too big of a trail on how you got there, so we had to bring you out. In Hawaii, again we were surprised because we did not expect Stephanie to defend you from April, memories of all of her training had been suppressed and we honestly did not think she would do what she did. Once you defeated April, we had no idea who else you called so we sent in real help and set it up to look like an attack.”

“So, who is Smith?” I asked

Vivian smiled at me, “That, my poor Dan, you will never know. Now, my child,” Vivian said speaking to Stephanie, “would you please kill Agent McNeil for me?”

“Yes, Madam.” Stephanie whispered as she reached down and picked up the weapon.

Stephanie brought the pistol to full arm extension, pointed right at my head. There was only about six feet between us, and I was looking right down the barrel. I felt my heart rate increase as panic started to set in, what do I do?

“Steph?” a pleading whisper escaped my lips.

Stephanie did not blink or react in anyway as she squeezed the trigger. My vision blurred as I heard the deafening sound of a ‘click’ as the firing pin fell on an empty chamber. It felt like time was frozen, and nothing happened.

“Oh dear,” Vivian said with a smile, “it seems we forgot to load it. Vicky, if you please.”

Vicky walked over and took the 10mm from Stephanie, removed the empty magazine and replaced it with a full one, racked the slide and handed the weapon back to Stephanie.

Stephanie brought the pistol back to aiming at my head, but this time there was something different, something in her eyes, a sparkle. I focused on her eyes and saw her wink her left eye at me and then I saw her lips move as she silently mouthed the words ‘I love you’. Just as her trigger finger tightened, the barrel of the 10mm moved quickly to my right. From six feet away I could feel the muzzle blast and I heard the sound to the bullet hitting something with a hollow thump and the gasp of a human voice. Stephanie allowed the recoil of the weapon to add to her momentum as she swung to her right, slamming the 10mm into Charkov’s already broken Jaw.

My reactions were not as quick as Stephanie’s, but I had both of my hands hanging in front of me, which I formed into a double fist and swung as hard as I could toward the man on my left, catching him in the cheek. The impact was not that hard, considering my already weakened condition, but was enough to surprise him and cause him to bang his head into the wall behind him. As I moved in his direction, the wall beside my head exploded into a pile of stinging fragments as someone fired in my direction. The side of my face felt like it was being scraped against a file as I continued my assault on the man next to me. I got my hands on his weapon as he recoiled off of the wall, I continued to drive forward, slamming my forehead into his face, which was enough to dislodge his grip on the weapon.

I hit the floor just as a new burst of automatic weapon fire came from across the room. As I rolled onto my back I could see two additional men and three other girls coming into the room, all carrying weapons. I brought the machine pistol in my hands around in that direction when suddenly, the lights went out and the room was plunged into total darkness.

Seconds after the lights went out; I could hear the sound of shattering glass and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Those sounds were followed by earsplitting explosions and a painfully bright light, one after another, after another. My vision was totally gone and all I could hear was a painful ringing in my ears. I was completely disoriented but could still hear the sound of gun fire coming from various directions.

The chaos in the room started to subside as my hearing started to return. I could hear voices.

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

“Clear!, Turn on the lights”

The lights came back on in the room and the first thing I saw was a man standing over me in a wetsuit, a black painted face, night vision goggles, and a suppressed machine gun pointing at me.

“Agent Daniel McNeil?” The man asked.

I nodded my head and pushed the machine pistol next to me away and raised my hands. The man nodded back, “U.S. Navy SEALs. We are here to get you out.”

I quickly stumbled to my feet. The room was still spinning, but I stumbled my way back to where I had last seen Stephanie. Vivian Vasnev was lying face down on the coffee table that had been in front of her, with a pool of blood dripping off of the edge of the table. I saw Charkov on the floor and Stephanie was next to him, part way under him. I rushed over to her, grabbing and throwing Charkov’s body aside. Stephanie was lying on her back, her whole front covered in blood and the hilt of a knife sticking out of her ribs, next to her left breast.

“Oh God, NO! Stephanie!” I cried.

“Medic! Medic!” I screamed as I dropped beside her and pulled her into my arms.

I could see the pain and fear in her eyes as the tears started falling freely from mine.

“No, no, no, please God no.” Was all I could get out.

Stephanie slowly raised her left hand and touched my lips with her finger tips, and I watched the light fade from those beautiful eyes.

A SEAL dropped to his knees opposite me with a medical bag, and put his fingers to Stephanie’s neck. I looked at him, pleading with my eyes. He looked at me, then lowered his eyes and shook his head. She was gone.

I don’t know how long I sat there holding her. There were no more tears to cry and I had no place to go, so I sat there. I didn’t want to let her go. I felt hands on my shoulders and a voice trying to talk to me but it was not getting through. Slowly I turned my head and saw Mike Holiday sitting next to me, with tears rolling down his cheeks. He reached around and pulled my head onto his shoulder, and the tears started again.

Saturday, July 11, 2009
The services had ended some time ago, the eulogy has been read, the lectern taken down, and the maintenance crew had already folded and stacked all of the chairs, all except the one that I was sitting in. Everyone had wandered their way out of the cemetery, returning to the parking lot, where they huddled in a group, watching me. As far as services go, it was very small, with only seven of us in attendance.

My mom, Mike and Brenda came down from Phoenix; Paula was here, as well as Tina and her husband. Tina was in a wheel chair and had to fight to be released from the hospital to attend. Since her husband is a doctor, the hospital finally gave in. Tina had a major skull fracture from assault. Her head was still wrapped and her face so swollen she was almost not recognizable. Tina announced to us yesterday that she would be retiring from the FBI effective immediately. It seems she agreed with her husband’s arguments that she had a more important role to play in life as a wife and mother. I could not agree with him more. As Brenda left the grave site, she kissed me on the forehead and handed me an envelope, something that she said Stephanie wanted me to have.

Sitting there, alone, looking at the headstone and the unopened envelope in my hand, I am not sure I will ever make sense of everything that happened. So many things happened in the days leading up to and right after our capture, that I am not even sure where to start.

Stephanie had told Brenda during our visit that she felt something was not right with the whole group we had been working with, and something was being staged to happen. The fact that we were given permission to go to Phoenix without an escort confirmed her suspicions. She said that Doctor Barbra Carson helped her by getting two sub dermal GPS tracking devices from the CIA, where Dr. Carson was truly employed, and confirmed by Mike, and implanted the tracking devices in Stephanie and Jill, without Jill’s or Smith’s knowledge. Stephanie gave that information and the device frequencies to Brenda, with instructions to give the information to Mike as soon as we left. I was left in the dark, according to Brenda, because Stephanie felt we needed to let things play out, and I would have tried to stop them. She would have been right.

Brenda told the story to Mike on the Wednesday evening that we left mom’s house. At first, Mike thought it was just a big conspiracy theory, or paranoia at play. However, he decided he would go to the airport Thursday morning to see us off, without telling anyone. Not only did we not arrive at the airport that morning, but neither did the Lear. Mike called the local police and found Tina with a cracked skull and the two other agents on the detail drugged in the basement parking lot. At the same time, Brenda called Paula Rienfelt and discovered that not only was she not in a relationship with Ryan Sloan, she had not seen or heard from him since the barbeque at my house.

Mike immediately sent the tracking device information to Washington and started rattling the political cages for information. Throughout the day, Thursday and most of Friday, some startling and frightening information was surfacing. First of all, the CIA did not have, not had they ever had, an employee by the name of Joshua Smith in any position, let alone the position of Senior Supervisor of Field Operations, a position that did not exist. They did have a Doctor Barbra Carson, who, sadly, had been found in her car at the bottom of the Potomac River that Thursday afternoon, the result of a tragic accident being explained as brake failure. However, no one could explain why she was driving on that pier, which was nowhere near her home, or office.

The Virginia State Police reported responding to the report of a gunshot at the home on Dr. Ivan Vasnev, where they found the former Dr. Vasnev, in his study, where he had placed a .38 caliber revolver to his head and pulled the trigger. The suicide note found at the scene said he was overly despondent at his wife leaving him and his failing health.

Mike also had agents contact both the Phoenix and Tucson airports to collect the tail numbers of the Lear jet that had made many stops in both places. A records search on the tail numbers revealed it was registered to an Insurance company based out of Kansas, and the actual jet the numbers belonged to was a Gulfstream, not a Lear. FBI agents that visited the company and collected the flight records discovered that not only was the jet truly not a Lear, it was not configured as I had described and collected flight records show it had never been in either airport in Arizona.

With all of this information in hand, Mike had to get the director of the FBI to pull in the Director of the CIA, Homeland Security, and the Presidential Advisor on National Security before he could get authorization to activate a SEAL team to come to our rescue. The GPS tracking data located us on a small island in Los Roques archipelago, in the Caribbean Sea.

The only person to leave the island that night alive, besides the rescue team, was me. All four of the girls had been killed in a shootout with the SEALs, as was Charkov and four local men. Vivian Vasnev was shot in the head a close range with what appeared to be a 10mm. The best theory is Vivian had to have been shot by Stephanie, as she was the only one there with a 10mm. Neither Anya nor Robert Brajovik were found of the island, and their boat was missing. However, three days later the boat was found adrift one hundred miles east of Guadeloupe with no one on board.

Because a U.S Navy SEAL team performed an assault on foreign soil, without Presidential approval, a Federal inquiry was started, and in the first few days enough evidence was presented to escalate the case to a national pitch. The FBI and CIA were the primary whipping dogs with the most to explain. How of this could all been going on for so many months without Congress or the Office of the President knowing anything about it needed to be explained, as could how the CIA could be operating missions on US soil, which was strictly prohibited. Mike was able to obtain the only known photograph of Joshua Smith from the office camera at the FBI office in Phoenix and the congressional oversight committee was having a field day with the CIA on how someone that was not a CIA employee could be directing as many assets as he appeared to be, without the CIA knowing about. There were still eight unaccounted for victims, at least one of which, we believed to be operational somewhere in the world.

I was personally relieved of duties, which I told Mike were duties I really didn’t want right now anyway, by being put on administrative leave, awaiting possible disciplinary actions. Part of me wanted to find these people and make them pay for what they did to Stephanie and others. However, part of me just wanted to crawl away and hide somewhere, and pretend the whole thing was a dream. There may come a day that I will be willing to rejoin the hunt, but not today, not now. The emotions and the wounds are too raw, the objectivity is gone. I don’t know who Smith is or where he and the Brajoviks are, but I am definitely not in their league. As Stephanie said once, I am just a Boy Scout, I have a lot to learn.

With Mike’s help, I was able to get Stephanie’s body sent back to Tucson as the Federal inquiry continued. I contacted Stephanie’s parents in Colorado to try to tell them what happened to their child and find out if they wanted her sent back there. I was told in no uncertain terms that their son had disgraced them years ago, and they had no desire to hear anything about the disgraceful life she lived or wanted their grandchild to know of her father.

More for selfish reasons, than any other, I took Stephanie home to Tucson and laid her to rest next to the desert from which she came, nearly a year ago. She had brought to me a new vision of life, a new understanding of love and the ability to dream where I didn’t think dreams could exist. In the short time that I knew her, she had become my best friend. I loved her with all my heart and saying goodbye to her that day was the hardest thing I have ever done. I did not want to leave her, if I did, I felt that I would lose her forever, and I was not ready to let go. I sat there, looking at the headstone and the envelope. I didn’t want to open it, but knew I had to. I carefully unsealed the flap and removed the single sheet of paper within.

My Dearest Darling

If you are reading this, it means what I feared would happen, has, and I am no longer with you. I am so very sorry for the pain you are feeling right now, but I think this is probably, the best way it could end. My life was taken from me, and though you tried very hard to give it back to me, it was not possible. My body was so damaged that the end was inevitable. My kidneys and my liver were already failing, and the doctors felt I had only a few years.

If I would have lived, you would have cared for me, and I would have cherished your love, but I would have been a burden to you, which is not a life I would want to live. This way I go to my death carrying your love in my heart, and knowing that someone truly loved me, which is a gift I can never thank you for enough. You gave to me the one gift that I had never received in my life, your unfaltering love, the courage to dream, and the feeling of a family.

I am sorry that I deceived you in the end, but you know you would not have supported my plan. I needed to bring this to an end, one way or the other. Either you needed to be free of me, or we needed to be free of them. Now, my Love, I hope that you will carry forward with an untarnished memory of my love for you. Take your time to grieve, but then move on and find another, for you have much love to give, and you are a man worth loving.

So with this, I say my final goodbye. My Darling, I loved you so very, very much.

Yours forever:

Stephanie

What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
Helen Keller

Dear Readers
Though this may be the final chapter of “The Princess of the Desert”, it is not the end of the story. This story will continue in the sequel “Tears of the Princess” coming soon to BCTS
MT

up
156 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Thank you.

A really great story, lots of twists that made sense! I must admit, I thought Smith was using them to flush out the bad guys, not that he was one of them.

Can't say

much since I can't see the keyboard though the tears. So many loose ends out there and poor Dan is alone. Great writing, although bitter-sweet doesn't quite describe it.
Thank you
Hugs
Grover

Greater Love Hath Nobody...

A bittersweet ending, Stephanie truly loved Dan. I hope he keeps the love they felt for each other and he does not descend into a quest for vengeance. What of the other girls abducted and "changed"? Will it beome his quest to find them and bring them home?
A very touching story and I look forward to the sequel. Thank you.

Stephanie

Constantly showed a strength of spirit that I don't think many at all possess. She was a very memorable character.

The ending was sad, yes, but in the end she actually won, didn't she? Avoiding a slow painful death, taking some of the evil f***s that had done all that to her, and still knowing she was loved.

The sequel should prove interesting if it's at all like this one has been.

Maggie

Wow!

The affair with Oly North pretty much destroyed my faith in the honesty of our government. Fortunately, I am small fish, not worth their notice.

What a heart rending story! It is packed with action and I see that you are not afraid of true to life endings. I do hope he finds and kills the bad guys but it may be up to others.

Thank you so much!

Gwendolyn

Thank you

A wondeful read, Arecee

Princess of the desert

I very much enjoyed reading this story!!! Looking forward to the next part.

gyg1977
lol

Bummer

Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, crap.

I wish to seek an accomidation with all involved under the Americans with Disabilities Act. I have depression and have been judged "Seriously Mentally Ill". Endings like this are too stressful....

Very well written, super plot, not that everything made sense. I'm not in any condition to think about this too deeply.

I really didn't cry that much. I guess I'm in shock; dazed and confused....

Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee

Holy tissue alert!

WOW!

Superb story!

I must say that Smith never did sit right with me. The whole thing just smelled... off.

It's so sad that Stephanie had to give her life to getting so many of the bad guys, but... with that many of them gone, perhaps the rest will be a little disorganized for once and they might start making mistakes.

Can't wait for Tears of the Princess!

Now I'll just go back to sobbing quietly... Truly a sad ending. It doesn't even merit the moniker "bittersweet", it's much like the ending of "Grave of the Firefly's", even though the movie opened with the death scene, the final moments of the film still hit like... well, it's indescribable really.

There's truth to it though, there was truth to that war movie, and there's truth to this story... Just like I consider Grave to be a must-see, I would now add this story as a must-read! And not just a must-read for a TG fiction, but a plain out, flat, straight up, if you have not yet, MUST READ THIS NAOW!

Abigail Drew.

Damn, damn, damn DAMN!! For

Damn, damn, damn DAMN!!

For two reasons:

First: You are a better writer than me. I'm jealous. I wrote "Only A Baby Machine", in which I tried to describe in detail the complete (forced) feminization of a subject. I came up with many of the same devices to accomplish the task, but with too much technical detail and not enough human feeling. The technical detail is a quibble: my real complaint is that you made the reader feel for the characters so much better than I did.

Second: After making us feel so much for the characters, couldn't you have given them (and us) a more cheerful ending? (A bit of selfishness--I recognize that your ending worked better for the story.)

Congratulations on one of the finest stories I've read here.

Suzy Q

Susana

I pushed the Good story!

button a whole bunch of times. I wish all of them counted.

T

I am in AWE

Valcyte's picture

I will send you a PM later on but I just wanted you know that I think your talent is.........words fail me.

Val
P.S. I have composed about 2000 words of praise for your writings and the only thing holding me back is the desire to edit my praise so it sounds reasonable and not superfluous fluff.