A Second Time Around free porn video

An assassin, finds himself in the body of a ten year old girl, who's family desperately needs the kind of help only a skilled killer can bring. Can he help this family without revealing himself and ruining his chance at redemption? A Second Time Around By Mr. Ram Inga looked nervously in her rear view mirror, the headlights were still there. She was sure it was her husband, Emilio. She looked over at their ten year old daughter, Marisol, sleeping in the seat next to her, and sighed. She should never have threatened to go to the police about Emilio's business. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!', she thought. They'd had another argument about Emilio's selling drugs, a frequent subject since Inga found out about his business. Emilio had promised that he would stop and get into something legitimate, but that was a lie. He came up with one excuse after another. Inga had had enough and instead of taking Marisol and leaving Emilio quietly, she gave Emilio an ultimatum, quit now or she'd go to the authorities. His look darkened and he stormed out. She immediately realized her mistake, woke Marisol, gathered together a few things and left the house. Inga was tall, blond and beautiful, Emilio had really poured on the charm when they were dating, they had only dated a few months before they were married. He'd told her that he was a coffee importer, he was, but what he hadn't told Inga was that his main import was cocaine. Emilio was very good at keeping the nature of his business from his wife, friends and neighbors. A year and a half after they were married their daughter, Marisol, named for Emilio's maternal grandmother, arrived. Emilio became more distant after the birth of their daughter, he spent more and more time at work. Inga immersed herself in keeping a nice house and being a good mother. One day, while dusting in Emilio's den, she found a plastic bag of white powder behind some books in his bookcase, she confronted him about it, he said that he started selling drugs to save his business after a financial setback, that he would stop when he could ease out of agreements with his suppliers. Emilio strung Inga along for a few months, until she stupidly forced the issue. The car behind her pulled up very close, Inga didn't know what she should do. As she approached a bridge, the pursuing car accelerated and started to pass. Inga sighed with relief, It wasn't Emilio after all, it was only someone who wanted to pass. Just as the car pulled ahead of her it swerved to the right, forcing her off of the road. She screamed, waking Marisol who started screaming also. Inga's car followed the embankment into the cold, dark, river. Her car came to rest in about eight feet of water, the passenger compartment quickly filled as the cold river poured through Marisol's partly open window. Inga tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge, then she rolled her window down, grabbed Marisol's arm and swam out the window of the sunken car, as she cleared the window, she lost her grip on her daughter. Her lungs near bursting, she gasped as she surfaced, took a deep breath and dove back down to the car. Inga quickly found the car's roof and followed it to the driver's side. She felt Marisol's small body floating partly out of the car, her leg tangled in a loose seatbelt, a sharp tug freed the girl's leg and Inga swam up and to the shore. Marisol wasn't breathing! Inga quickly started CPR on her daughter. Less than an hour later, a county sheriff's deputy noticed the tire marks and broken brush alongside the road and stopped to investigate. As he shined his light down the river bank, he heard a woman cry out. "Help us! Call 911!" Inga's CPR had started Marisol breathing again, but she didn't regain consciousness. "OH GOD, HELP ME!" cried Inga. .... Dimitri took a last puff on his cigarette and flicked it into the gutter. The target was just leaving a trendy nightclub in Istanbul with some acquaintances. As Dimitri passed, he hit the target hard in the nose with the heal of his palm, driving the nasal bone into the target's brain, killing him instantly. A large man in the target's party grabbed Dimitri by the arm, Dimitri drove his knuckles into the man's throat, crushing his windpipe, the large man fell to his knees, trying to catch a breath that would never come. Dimitri walked into the night, as the target's companions gathered around the fallen men. Soon, Dimitri was lost in the crowd. As Dimitri packed to go home he thought, how many had he killed in his life? One thousand, Two...? he'd lost count. Most, he had no idea why they were targeted, they were just assignments. In his fifteen years as the KGB's top assassin, they'd never told him why. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Dimitri moved back to his native Ukraine. He quit the trade for a while, but legitimate work was hard to find, so he started to work as a freelance assassin. He thought that, maybe, he could save enough to give himself a fresh start. Business was good, for him, in the former Soviet republics, he could be very particular about the jobs he would accept. He started asking his clients why they wanted the target terminated. Some clients, he turned down as he decided that death wasn't warranted in the situation presented to him. Dimitri thought that maybe he could do some good in the world with his unique talent and dealing death was his talent. Dimitri was finding it more and more difficult to accept new assignments, he was ready to move on and retire to another country with a new identity, start a family and settle down. Dimitri did not grow up in a loving family. Dimitri's father had been a drunk, and his mother a drug addict, they had little time for young Dimitri. It had been his lack of a home life that had forced young Dimitri into joining the Army, just to get away. It was in the army that Dimitri was recruited by the KGB, Psychological tests indicated that Dimitri had a certain moral flexibility, which could be exploited by the government, the KGB gave Dimitri the best training, and he rose rapidly through the ranks, leaving the KGB as a Major. The Istanbul target's termination had been an easy one to accept, he was an Al-Quaida operative and was planning to bomb a train. The target was the Al-Quaida cell's explosives man, without him, there would be no attack on the train. That wasn't the reason that the client wanted him dead however. The target had been responsible for the death of a wealthy Saudi's son, the Saudi had tracked him down and hired Dimitri to finish him off. When Dimitri saw the Al-Quaida connection in the target's portfolio, he'd immediately accepted the job. Dimitri hated Al-Quaida, he'd killed hundreds of them in Afghanistan, during the war in the '80s. He thought them amateurs, religious zealots, indiscriminate bombers, who gave killing a bad name. Though Dimitri was a superb sniper and could kill with a knife or poison in dozens of different ways, he preferred to kill using no weapons but his body, that way if he was searched for weapons, none would be found. Dimitri's growing anxiousness about his profession was eased, in part, by his meditating. As a freelance assassin, he had a lot of time on his hands, he'd started meditating as part of his martial arts training and had become very good at it. When meditating, he could clear his mind of his growing uneasiness about his life's path. Meditating helped him to focus and it cleared his mind. Where many of his colleagues turned to alcohol to ease their troubled consciences, he found comfort in this daily ritual. At the age of forty five, Dimitri was considered to be an old man in his profession. Other assassins of his generation were mostly dead, from liver failure or making fatal mistakes on the job. Dimitri booked passage home on a ferry from Istanbul to Odessa. The thrumming of the ships engines were relaxing to him, he tried to arrange sea transportation whenever he could. The beginning of the day and a half trip was uneventful, but the weather worsened, as a front dropped down out of Russia, battering Ukraine with wind and rain and sweeping over the Black Sea. Soon the small ship was pitching badly, taking green water over the bow, each pitch forward admitted more sea water through an un-dogged door in the foc'sil. Dimitri was in his cabin, eyes closes doing his breathing exercises when the ferry pitched forward, it didn't recover and dove straight to the bottom. Dimitri could feel that the ship was at an angle from which it could not recover. His last thoughts were, 'Typyer konyets.' Now it ends. Water filled his cabin. It was strange, as Dimitri floated towards his cabin's overhead, he felt a hand pulling on his arm, but a strap of some kind was tangled on his leg, he kicked it loose and lost consciousness. When he awoke, he was laying in a hospital bed, and was surprised that he wasn't dead. He felt weak, which didn't surprise him, nearly drowning could do that to a person. A nurse came into the darkened hospital room and saw that he was awake. She pushed his hair out of his eyes with her hand. 'Wait a minute' he thought, 'my hair isn't long enough to get in my eyes!' Dimitri always kept his hair very short, so an opponent couldn't grab it. 'Have I been in the hospital so long that my hair has grown out?' he thought. The nurse said, "Your mommy is alright dear, you can see her tomorrow. Get some sleep, your mommy will be back soon. Then she turned and left the room. He thought it strange that the nurse spoke English, if this hospital was in Ukraine. Dimitri spoke nine languages well and was fluent in five, English being one of the five. Dimitri was feeling very sleepy. He thought that he might be medicated. Though he had many questions, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. The next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window of Dimitri's hospital room woke him up. As he opened his eyes, he saw a beautiful blond woman sitting at his bedside. 'Now this is more like it!', Dimitri thought, checking out the blonde's breasts. "Oh, Honey! I was so worried! 'Honey?!! Do I know this woman?', thought Dimitri. "Can you sit up, dear?" "Da." He muttered as he pulled himself to a sitting position. "What?" "Eh?" "Oh never mind!" smiled Inga as she hugged her daughter. 'My god! This woman is huge!' thought Dimitri as he was embraced. Dimitri looked down at himself and then at the room. The woman wasn't large, he was small! He looked at his arm, it was a tanned child's arm! He looked at the beautiful woman, and thought that this must be the 'Mommy' that the nurse mentioned last night. How could this have happened? Dimitri had to see more, he needed to be alone. Dimitri saw the partly open door to the hospital room's bathroom. "Mommy, I have to go to the toilet." Dimitri was startled by the high pitch of his voice "Here, let me help you." said 'Mommy' as she lowered the side of the bed. Dimitri put is legs over the side, they were so skinny! 'Mommy' held onto Dimitri's arm to steady him as he stood up. He only came up to her chest! She continued to hold him as they walked to the room's bathroom. "I can go by myself." Again, that high voice. "Are you sure?" "D-Yes!" "OK, I'll be right here if you need me." Dimitri closed the door to the bathroom behind him and looked for the mirror, it was behind the sink and a little too high for him to get a good look, he climbed up on the toilet seat and turned toward the mirror. He gasped, "malenkaya devochka!" A little girl! His reflection was that of a girl, about ten years old. She had beautiful olive skin and long dark brown hair with cute bangs. She had startling china blue eyes that clashed becomingly with her Mediterranean features. 'This girl will be a true beauty when she grows up.' Dimitri thought. '!!This girl is ME!!' the realization crashed home. He climbed down from the toilet and pulled up his hospital gown and felt his crotch, nothing, just the smooth, hairless sex of a girl. He'd rather liked what he'd had, it had given him a lot of pleasure, he sighed at the memories. There was a knock at the door, "Are you all right honey?" Dimitri dropped the front of his gown and said, "Yes Mommy!" he flushed the toilet, washed his hands and opened the door. There were two more women in the room when Dimitri came out of the bathroom. One was an older version of the blond woman. He thought, 'That must be Baboola.' Grandma. The other woman was obviously a doctor. "How do you feel, Marisol?" asked the doctor as she bent down and looked at Dimitri. "Fine." He answered. 'Let's check you out, OK?" "OK." After a thorough examination, the Doctor said, "She seems perfectly healthy. I would like to watch her for a few more hours, but I don't see any reason why she couldn't go home this evening." Then she turned, smiling, to Dimitri and said, "You are a very lucky girl!" .... Dimitri sat in the backseat of a car, a stuffed bear belted to the seat next to him. He listened to the two women in the front seat. "Oh Mom, thank you for putting us up." "Don't be silly, Inga, you and Marisol are family, we have to stick together, besides, I've been lonely in that big house since you father died." "We shouldn't be in any danger from Emilio, after what I told the police, they say that they have enough on him now to put him away for a long time. They say that he's a major cocaine kingpin, I had no idea! Even after I found out that he sold drugs, I thought that he was a small time dealer." "I never could see what you saw in him." said Grandma. "Oh Mom! He's so handsome and he was very charming. But your right, after we were married, I felt like I was just another pretty ornament, like his Lamborghini or his expensive watches. I thought that a baby would bring him around, but he just put more distance between us after Marisol was born" .... They moved into Grandma's house, and enrolled Dimitri in the fifth grade at an elementary school near Grandma's home. Life settled into a routine. Dimitri, always a pragmatist, went with the flow and tried to get into his new role. This child's life appeared to be a permanent thing, though not what he would have chosen for himself, he had a new identity and loving family as he had planned for his retirement. Though in a way that he would never have conceived. He now had a chance to live a long life, in a more productive way than he did the first time, he embraced that chance. School was easy. Marisol was put in the 'gifted' program. At first, she had a hard time socializing with the other children, but she made an effort. She eventually made friends with some of her classmates. She was very good in sports, her mom enrolled her in gymnastic classes, were she did very well. Marisol was amazed at the energy and flexibility that her ten year old body had. Her coach thought that, with a lot of work, she could be a contender in the Olympics. Marisol didn't think that she wanted to be an Olympic athlete, but it was nice to know that someone thought that she had potential. The workouts helped her build strength and stamina and it gave her a chance to have some social relationships with other girls her age. Marisol loved her Mom and Grandma and she had friends who she loved and who returned that love. She liked being taken care of, looked after and tucked into bed each night with a kiss. It was something that young Dimitri had yearned for, but never received. She liked her life. Sure, she was now female, but half the people in the world were female and didn't seem to mind it. She was young and small, but not vulnerable, not with the sharply honed skills of her old life. No, this wasn't the life she would have chosen for herself, but she had no complaints. Marisol's love for her new family grew everyday and she would do whatever it took to protect these sweet, loving people and keep her new life intact. .... One day, Marisol returned from school and saw her Mom and Grandma looking worried. They didn't come out and tell her, but by listening when they thought that she couldn't hear, she learned that her father, Emilio, was out of jail. It seemed that money had won out over justice again. Marisol didn't think that Emilio would come here himself, if he meant to harm them. They didn't even know if he wanted revenge or not. The police were no help, they did say, however, that they would step up patrols in their neighborhood for a while, but it was impossible to tell if that was really happening. Marisol was used to waiting for someone to make their move, but her Mom and Grandma were nervous wrecks after just a week. Finally, ten days after Emilio was released from jail, he acted. As Marisol was getting off of the school bus, near her home, a skinny man with an acne scarred face rushed out of the shrubbery and ran towards her. As he moved to scoop her up, she suddenly fell onto her back, put her foot in his crotch and pulled on his belt. His forward momentum was enough that he couldn't stop himself, she flipped him over herself and under the back wheels of the bus as it pulled away. The bus rolled over his chest, his left arm became trapped between the dual rear tires as the bus rolled forward, it pulled him around and around the wheels for about half a block when the driver, feeling the bump, bump, bump, stopped. By the time the driver discovered the grisly remains of the henchman, Marisol was out of sight and skipping innocently up the walk to her front door. Nothing happened for a few days, but Marisol knew that Emilio hadn't given up, it seemed to her, that his strategy was to get to Inga by kidnapping Marisol and using her as a bargaining chip. That was just fine with Marisol. Marisol was waiting for her mother to pick her up after gymnastics class when Emilio struck the second time, this time there were two men. They grabbed her and pushed her into a car, she was trapped between them in the front seat. While the driver was distracted starting the car and the other man was looking to see if anyone had seen them snatch the girl, Marisol reached into her book bag and took out a new, freshly sharpened, yellow, number 2 Ticonderoga pencil. When the kidnapper on the passenger side looked back at her, from checking for witnesses, she drove the pencil through his left eye and into his brain, he died without making a sound. The driver was busy checking for traffic, Marisol found the dead man's gun, pulled it from his waist band and shot the driver in the head, dropped the gun to the floor of the car and climbed over the passenger side dead man, opened the door and got out. She walked to the end of the block where her mom picked her up only a couple of minutes later. .... Emilio was furious, "That bitch must have hired a bodyguard! That's three of my men who have been taken out!" The first one, he'd thought was a simple accident, but the last two killings seemed like a professional hit to him. Emilio thought it was time to hire a professional also. .... Emilio hadn't tried anything for over a month, but Marisol knew that he hadn't given up. School was over, for the summer and her friends were off to visit family or to camp, so she had time to keep an eye on things. Mommy and Grandma seemed less worried. When Emilio didn't do anything to harm them, they thought that he probably had enough trouble with the police watching him to bother with his ex-wife and daughter. Inga won a divorce from Emilio. She had also managed to get her old job back, as a graphic designer. One day, Marisol got a lucky break, while on a shopping trip to the local mall she recognized someone from Dimitri's past. Marisol first saw him while she waited for her mom to buy cosmetics, she saw Grigory Chekhov walk past the front of the store, he was looking right at Inga, he didn't give Marisol a second glance. Marisol knew who his target was. Chekhov had been recruited as an assassin about five years after Dimitri. He had also gone freelance after the fall of the Soviet union. Dimitri had thought that Chekhov's work was sloppy. A sadist, Chekhov tended to draw out his executions. For him, assassination was more than just a job, it was fun. Chekhov was also very expensive, he had an inflated opinion of himself and charged accordingly. Emilio must have paid dearly, with the standard fifty percent down, fifty percent at completion, contract. Marisol would have to make sure that her father wouldn't need to pay the other fifty percent. While Inga was busy with the sales lady, Marisol followed Chekhov out to the parking lot. Chekhov, got into a gray Ford Taurus, not far from Inga's new car and waited. Marisol, noted the license number and looked around, she saw that there were too many people around for her to take any action, she returned to the store. "Marisol! Where did you go!?", her Mom asked, frightened and relieved at the same time. "I had to go to the bathroom, Mommy." Marisol lied. "Well, don't go without me again, there are bad people around who could hurt you!" "No, Mommy!" "What?!" "No, I won't leave you." "OK" That night, after Marisol's Mom and Grandma put her to bed, Marisol got up and went to her bedroom window, Marisol's bedroom had an excellent view of the street. Just as she expected, she saw a gray Taurus. Marisol crept downstairs, and into the kitchen, where she gathered all their sharp knives from a drawer, then she slipped silently outside. Marisol found a spot in the garden, where the streetlight cast a shadow of the detached garage on the ground, she settled in where she could keep an eye on the car and waited. A match flared in the car lighting up the drivers face. Marisol nodded her head, it was Chekhov alright and he still had his sloppy ways, he should know better than to strike a match in the dark, on a stake out. Marisol hefted each knife expertly and stuck them in the ground in front of her, she waited. An hour and a half later, The dome light came on in the Taurus as Chekhov opened the car door.. 'Christ! How amateur can you get!" thought Marisol. 'He might as well shoot off a flare announcing his presence.' Chekhov walked towards the house, confident that he was to make some easy money. Marisol waited, watching. Finally, when Chekhov was less than three meters away. Marisol started throwing knives from the shadows, with deadly accuracy. Marisol knew that her child's body didn't have the strength to throw a knife with enough force to hit a vital organ. So she used her own variation of a technique developed by the Chinese in ancient times called, 'The death of a thousand cuts.' The idea was to cut the subject many times in arteries that were close to the surface of the skin. In the neck, arms, wrists and groin. If done correctly, the subject would bleed to death slowly from so many wounds that it was impossible to staunch the flow of precious blood. Caught in Marisol's furious fusillade of flying blades, Chekhov turned and staggered to his car, bleeding profusely. He drove off. Marisol gathered up all the knives, that didn't stick in Chekhov, and brought them back in the house, she rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Back in her room , she got back in bed and closed her eyes, she smiled as she heard it start to rain, washing Chekhov's blood down the sewer. Chekhov was a large man, he had a lot of blood in him, he made it to the freeway and was only a mile from a hospital when he passed out from loss of blood. He died when his car hit an overpass support at seventy miles per hour. .... After a month, Emilio knew that something had gone wrong with the hit. Emilio was crazy mad, "God damn it! I'm out more than twenty large as well as three good men and that bitch still isn't dead! I'm gonna kill her myself!" Emilio's plan was much like his original idea, kidnap Marisol and lure Inga to a place where he could kill her. Only this time he would do it himself, after all Marisol knew her Daddy, It should be no problem to coax her into going with him. He just had to watch out for that bodyguard who had to be following Marisol. Emilio followed Marisol around for a week, keeping an eye out for the bodyguard and learning Marisol's routine. Emilio decided that the best place to get the kid would be from her gymnastics class. Marisol knew that Emilio was following her, he really wasn't very stealthy about his shadowing technique. She'd recognized him from photos her mom kept. She wondered when he would stop messing around and finally get around to taking her. That time finally came on a Thursday, after gymnastics class. Emilio walked into the gym's office and told the receptionist that he was Marisol's father and he was there to pick her up. The gymnastic coach brought her out. Marisol's coach asked her if she knew that man. Emilio looked nervously around. Marisol said sweetly, "That's my Daddy!" She ran to Emilio and hugged him around the waist. "Daddy, Where have you been?" Emilio smiled, thinking, 'My God! Inga hasn't told the kid ANYTHING!' "Common, I'll take you to Mommy" Leaving the gym, Emilio kept a sharp eye out for the mysterious bodyguard, and a tight hold on Marisol's hand. He thought, 'He must be busy guarding Inga, well that won't help her now!' In the car, Marisol, still playing the part of the innocent child, asked, "Daddy, where are we going? Home is that way!" Emilio replied, We're going to my business, Mommy will pick you up there." Emilio's building was a large nondescript warehouse near the docks, there was an office high up in the corner of the building with windows looking outside, allowing a view of the waterfront and windows inside, looking to the interior of the building. The office was accessed by a long stairway leading to a catwalk that ran past the office door. Emilio led Marisol up to the office. "You wait here, I'll be back after I call your mommy." "OK, Daddy." Emilio close the office door, walked down the catwalk a little way, took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Inga's cell phone. Marisol opened the door a bit and listened to Emilio whisper to Inga that he had the girl and that if she wanted to see her alive again, she had better come, no cops, to the warehouse and he gave her the address. She closed the door and sat in a chair along an outside wall of the office. Emilio came in, leaving the door open to the warehouse. "Now we wait for your mother." "How long will she be?" "About a half an hour." Emilio paced the room for a few minutes and then stopped to light a cigarette. Once a heavy smoker, Marisol found that this child's body really didn't like the smell of cigarette smoke. She coughed and said, "Daddy, could you smoke that outside please?" Emilio's first impulse was to ignore the kid and continue to smoke, what right did she, a kid, have telling him what to do? But she was being very co-operative, and he didn't want anymore trouble with her than was necessary. He would, of course, have to kill her also, after he killed the mother, he couldn't have any witnesses could he? He needed her alive, now, in order to get Inga into the warehouse. Emilio gritted his teeth and said, "All right, honey." and he stepped outside onto the catwalk. After a few more minutes, he leaned onto the rail along the catwalk and took another puff from his cigarette. Marisol saw her chance and quietly slipped off of the chair and walked up behind Emilio. "Daddy?" "What?!" he asked sharply, without turning his head. "Goodbye!" With that, Marisol grabbed Emilio by the ankles and easily tipped him over the low rail. Emilio fell thirty feet and landed with a sickening crunch. Marisol walked down the stairs and to her father. Emilio had broken his neck in the fall, but was still alive and conscious, though he couldn't move. "How.. Why?" "Why? You shit! You drowned your own daughter and you've been trying to kill your wife, who loved you, for what... money, power, ego? Well I'm here now and I have a good thing going for the first time in my miserable existence and you're not going to take it away from me or harm those sweet people who have made it possible!" "What? You killed those men? How?" "Yes. As to how, ask the devil, he might know. I'll see you in Hell!" With that, Marisol stepped on Emilio's chest with her patent leather Mary-Jane causing his breathing to become more and more labored, each time his chest fell, Marisol increased the pressure on his chest, until Emilio could no longer take another breath. She kept her weight on his chest until he stopped breathing altogether. She walked back up to the office and waited for Inga. Twenty minutes later, Inga came into the warehouse and called, "Marisol! Are you here?" "I'm up here, Mommy! Daddy fell off of the rail, is he alright?" Inga saw Emilio's broken body on the concrete floor, just below the office, she sobbed and took out her cell phone, dialed a number and thirty seconds later the police stormed into the warehouse. By that time, Inga had already been to the office and was leading Marisol down the stairs, she hugged her close and kept Marisol's head turned to her, so that she couldn't see her father's body. Marisol's police interrogation was short. She told them that 'Daddy' had stepped out onto the catwalk to have a cigarette, lost his balance and fell over the rail. The police listed it as an accidental death and closed the case. ...Epilog... After Emilio's death, life for Marisol, her Mom and Grandma, was completely normal. Marisol grew like a weed in the seventh grade and ended up taller than Dimitri had been. Dimitri was correct, grown up Marisol was a true beauty. Though she didn't date much in high school, she was very popular and was not only class valedictorian, but prom queen as well. After high school, she decided to study medicine, and save lives, rather than take them. She figured that if she worked hard, she could even the score. In medical school, she was the only one in her class who didn't get sick the first day they had to dissect cadavers. She found that it was much more difficult to save a life than it was to take one, but she worked hard at preserving life. That's not to say that her killing days were over. For example; there was that would be rapist who she dispatched in the hospital parking lot when she was working on her internship; Marisol had been walking to her car when she was grabbed from behind, with her arms pinned to her sides, she stomped hard on her attackers foot with her high heeled shoe, breaking his foot. When the man let go, she spun around and kicked him hard in the balls, he doubled over, she grabbed his head, twisting it violently, breaking his neck. The whole maneuver lasted less than thirty seconds. (She considered her Hippocratic oath more of a guideline than a hard fast rule.) She left the body on the pavement and drove away. The body was discovered by another hospital employee who accidentally drove over it in the dark. Police identified the body as that of a convicted rapist, recently released from prison, they just put the death down as a pedestrian / car accident and pursued the case no further. Marisol became a trauma doctor and excelled at it. Unlike many of her colleagues, there was little that she hadn't seen before in the emergency room, only this time she was healing people, instead of causing the damage. She met a handsome young man, a college professor, who she fell in love with and married. They had three children, further balancing her lives to kill ratio. By the time Marisol died at the age of 105, 140 years in actual life experience, she was a great, great grandmother, and she was well into the black, as far as lives saved versus lives taken was concerned. She never did see her father, Emilio, again. ~fin~