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The Female of the Species By Scott Ramsey Edited by Amelia R. Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say, For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away; But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other's tale - The female of the species is more deadly than the male. - Kipling ** Chapter 1 October 2, 2006 The village of Illiamna, Alaska, nestled on the northeastern shore of the lake which bore its name, boasted a permanent population of less than one hundred. The economy of the village was primarily supported by the numerous lodges in the area, providing hunters and fisherman the opportunity to brave the wilds of Alaska in search of all manner of game: salmon, trout, caribou, moose and bear. It would be easy to say that the small size of the community, and its largely Yup'ik makeup, was why Sara Jaeger stood out, but that would not be true. Sara would have stood out in the middle of a crowded city. She was a beautiful young woman, her body lithe and athletic, yet still pleasingly curvaceous. Chestnut hair flowed about her shoulders like a river of silk on the rare occasions when it wasn't tied back in a pony tail, and her skin had a rich, smooth complexion. Her intense, steel gray eyes had a penetrating gaze that gave the impression that she missed nothing, which was true, and yet, if one looked closely, it was almost possible to see the pain they hid. She had arrived in Illiamna ten years earlier, eighteen years old with a six-month-old baby boy on her hip. Her only possessions were some threadbare clothes in a backpack and a rifle case containing a Weatherby Mark 5. She had gone from lodge to lodge looking for a job as a hunting guide until finally Hubert Lassiter had taken pity on her. It had been the best decision he had ever made. Sara was an exceptional guide. It was as though she could sense the presence of game, and her tracking skills were uncanny. It rapidly became known that if Sara took a client out and he didn't bag his animal, it was because he was a lousy shot. Of course Sara hunted herself, but she did it only for subsistence, and she never kept trophies of the animals she took. Her cabin didn't even have a bear skin rug. She was a quiet girl who kept to herself mostly, and though she was not known to display much in the way of emotion, she obviously doted on her son, Brian. Hubert had no doubt she had come to Alaska to escape something, and he suspected it had something to do with the father of her child. She was very protective of Brian, who was a bright and precocious boy. At ten years old, he was already an accomplished woodsman and had gone with his mother on several hunts. He was no less protective of his mother than she was of him. "Looks like you're all set, Sara," Hubert said as the young woman set her gear near the door of the main lodge. Despite ten years in the harsh climate of Alaska, Sara looked virtually the same as she had the day she arrived. Hubert had asked her many times what her secret was and she just smiled and said she had good genes. Sara nodded, her right hand adjusting the holster for the Smith & Wesson Model 500 revolver on her hip. The four inch barreled revolver was always with her, a powerful weapon whose .500 Magnum round was designed for use against dangerous game. As powerful as it was, it was only a backup to the Weatherby Mark 5 rifle that rested with Sara's pack. Large bore handguns were a common sight in Alaska, and a good precaution for someone like Sara, whose cabin was well away from the village proper. Just a few months earlier, Sara had used the revolver to dispatch a big brown bear that had been making a nuisance of itself around the school in nearby Newhalen, saving one of the teachers from what would likely have been a fatal mauling when the bear refused to be scared away. "Does Charlie have the plane ready?" Sara asked. Hubert grinned and said, "Yeah he's down there bitching at the film crew right now. They sure have a lot of gear." "They usually do." Hubert moved around the counter of the lodge's store and walked over to the young woman. He towered over the five foot, six inch frame of the girl he had come to regard as a daughter. Sara didn't protest as he wrapped his massive arms around her and gave her a hug. "I know I don't have to tell you this, but I'm gonna anyway," Hubert said. "You be careful out there. The pickin's have been scarce, and this late in the season there's gonna be some mighty desperate bears." Sara nodded; the salmon runs had been light this season and were nearing their end. The coastal brown bears were trying to pack on fat for the coming winter, and though they usually avoided humans, a hungry brown was not to be taken lightly. "I'll be careful," Sara said. A weathered Ford F-250 pickup truck pulled up in front of the lodge, and Sara hefted her pack onto one shoulder. She picked up her rifle case and headed out towards the truck just as the passenger door flew opened and her ten-year-old son Brian leapt out and hit the ground running. He ran to his mother and wrapped his arms around her. The man behind the wheel of the lodge's truck opened the door and stepped down. Sara flashed him a rare smile. It was a shame, because she had a truly beautiful smile. David Hollister was a zoologist with the University of Alaska and over the last two years had become a familiar figure around the lodge. "Thanks for picking Brian up, David," Sara said. Her smile broadened as she looked down at her son and ruffled his hair. "Hey kiddo, how was school?" Brian attended school in the village of Newhalen, just a five mile drive from Iliamna. Newhalen boasted the largest school in the region - ninety students in grades K through 12 and seven full time teachers. Though small in size, the school provided good educational opportunities, and thanks to satellite access to the internet, students had access to advanced courses. "The usual, boring," Brian said. Like his mother, Brian was a voracious reader, and at ten already tested in the high school level on reading. He was also good in all his other subjects, especially math and science. He had taken an immediate liking to David when they had met and had helped the biologist several times in the field. "I wish I could go with you," Brian said. "I wish you could too, sweetheart," Sara said. "I know how much you like seeing the bears." "It's not the bears, I just want to be with you," Brian said. "Besides, David said we could fly down to Katmai tomorrow." "I believe I said if it was all right with your mother," David said. He walked over to Sara and put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "I may need to fly to Anchorage one day this week to pick up some supplies and check in with the University too. I promised Brian I'd ask if it was all right for him to come." "Sure, that's fine with me," Sara said, tussling Brian's thick brown hair. "Missing a day of school won't hurt, I guess." "Cool!" Brian exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his mother's waist. "I love you, Mom. You're the best!" "I really appreciate your staying with him while I'm gone, David," Sara said. David smiled, a slightly sad smile, and said, "It's no problem at all." David didn't keep his arm around Sara very long, knowing she would get uncomfortable if he did. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wouldn't because he knew she wasn't ready to hear them. They had met two years earlier; Sara had been the guide for an expedition to tag and track brown bears as part of a study David was doing for the University of Alaska. David had never really believed in love at first sight until he laid eyes on Sara. She hadn't looked terribly feminine at the time, dressed in insulated hunting clothes with her hair tied back and a camouflage baseball cap on her head. When she moved it was obvious she was a woman, however, and her face radiated an innocent beauty that was starkly contrasted by her eyes, which conveyed wisdom and sorrow beyond her years. It was the eyes that had done it. David had gazed into her eyes, and he could see the pain she tried so hard to hide. His heart had melted, and he wanted nothing more than to make that pain disappear. Sara had resisted his attempts to establish a relationship with her at first. David was perceptive enough to understand that she was frightened by the idea, and he hadn't pressed the issue. Sara had also made it abundantly clear that she didn't need the help of any man. It would have been easy for David to push aside all thoughts of her and move on. Most other men would have, or they would have pushed too hard and driven her away. David chose the middle path, and slowly but surely the two had become friends. It was true David would like it to be more, but he was content for now. His heart told him she was worth waiting for. Sara put her gear in the back of the pickup and let Brian slide into the middle of the front seat before climbing in herself. David climbed back in the driver's seat and drove the truck the half mile to the float plane dock. A small group was clustered on the dock near the lodge's Cessna Caravan. A short distance away was David's own aircraft, a venerable de Havilland Beaver. David was out of the truck first and grabbed Sara's gear to carry it down to the plane. He counted it a small victory that she allowed his simple act of chivalry; there was a time when she would have snatched the gear away and carried it herself. His second victory caught him by surprise; once her gear was stowed, Sara turned and gave him a hug and even kissed him on the cheek. "David, when I get back, maybe we can have dinner ... and ... talk," Sara said. "I'd like that very much." For a moment she looked more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. Then she turned to the film crew and the steely wilderness guide returned. "All right, people, we're burning daylight. Let's get this show on the road." David and Brian stood on the dock and watched the float-plane as it climbed into the sky and then climbed back into the pickup. "You're in love with my mom, aren't you?" Brian asked as he and David drove out of Iliamna. He and Sara lived in a small cabin two miles outside the village. David shot Brian a look before saying, "Yes I am, very much." "She wants to love you," Brian said. "It'd be great to have a dad, especially if it was you." David had to take a moment before speaking. Brian's frankness had caught him off guard; it was a trait he shared with his mother. "I'm happy you feel that way, Brian," he said when he felt he could speak without his voice cracking. "I think it'd be great to have a son - especially if it was you." "My father died before I was born. Mom doesn't like to talk about it. Something really bad happened ... she still cries about it at night." David didn't know how to respond. In just a few minutes, Brian had told him more about Sara's past than she had in two years. He had suspected as much; Sara was mistrustful of men in general, and it was obvious that she was hiding a painful past. "I just wanted you to know, you know, that it's not you. She tries, she really does, but it's real hard for her. Please don't tell her I said anything." "Of course I won't," David said. CHAPTER 2 Sara much preferred this type of trip into the wilds of Alaska, where the object was to study and observe the wildlife rather than hunt it. She had nothing against hunting; legal, licensed hunting was vital to the conservation of wildlife. Through the purchase of licenses, tags and other permits, as well as the excise taxes paid on hunting equipment, hundreds of millions of dollars were raised annually to support conservation efforts. For Sara though, the sport had lost much of its former allure. She still hunted, but these days it was to put food on the table, and not just for herself and Brian. She donated large portions of every kill she made to the community that had taken her in and made her feel welcome. She did have misgivings about this film crew however. The producer, Harold Kramer, was a condescending jerk. He had argued strenuously when he had been told she was to be their guide, his primary objection being her rifle, not her gender. However, the production company's insurance required a licensed guide, and Sara would never enter bear country unarmed, so his complaints had fallen on unsympathetic ears. Their camp had been set up the day before by the advance crew, which was fortunate since their late departure left them with only two hours before sunset, thanks to the shortening days. Alaska was widely known as the 'Land of the Midnight Sun'; less widely recognized was the fact that during the first days of the year daylight lasted less than six hours. After dinner that evening, Sara called the film crew together and once more explained the rules to them. No one was to stray from camp alone, all the food had to be securely stored well away from camp, and under no circumstances were they to approach any bears when she was not present. Even then they were to maintain a safe distance and use the telephoto lenses of their cameras to get the close-ups. "We have done this sort of thing before, Miss Jaeger," Harold Kramer said. "I understand that," Sara said. "What you have to understand is the salmon runs were light this year, and the bears are desperately trying to pack on as much fat as they can before winter sets in. A desperate bear is a very dangerous animal." "Perhaps if we were salmon," Kramer said. "Bears don't see humans as food." "Tell that to Timothy Treadwell," Sara countered. Timothy Treadwell had been an environmentalist who'd spent thirteen seasons living with the brown bears of Katmai National Park. He had done a lot of good, raising the awareness of the public, but his methods were at best questionable. He ignored the dangers of working with the browns, often getting close enough to touch them. Perhaps his most fatal error had been attributing too many human characteristics to the unpredictable animals. Three years earlier he and his girlfriend had been killed and partially eaten by at least one bear. His final legacy was a six minute audio recording of his own attack, recorded on a video camera that had thankfully had the lens cap in place. Park rangers had been forced to kill two bears just to get to the camp site, and a necropsy of one had found human remains in its stomach. Sara retired to her tent and crawled into her sleeping bag. The weather was still mild, dropping only to the mid forties at night. Sara was well acclimated to the climate, and her sleeping bag was all she needed to pass the night comfortably. They were up early the next morning, and over the next five days Sara guided them to several locations where they were able to get some excellent footage of wild brown bears. The footage would be used as filler for an upcoming documentary. A mile downstream from the lake where the float-plane had landed was a series of low falls that provided great footage of salmon jumping as they made their way upstream, and of course the bears were there to snag as many as they could. On the sixth day, they came upon a prized scene; a sow was out with her two cubs. From their size Sara knew the cubs were less than a year old and had only emerged from their den the past spring. She made sure they maintained a good distance; the sow had noted their presence and was keeping a watchful eye on them. Kramer wanted to get closer, but Sara wouldn't allow it. Back at camp that afternoon, Sara was returning from gathering wood and noticed that the producer was nowhere to be seen. She also noted that one of the cameramen was gone, but wasn't too concerned. She figured they were answering the call of nature, and had followed the rule to never leave camp alone. She quickly realized that something was not right, however. The rest of the crew was acting guilty, and when the two men had not returned after five minutes, she got a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Where are they?" All activity in the camp stopped and everyone looked at her. Sara swore under her breath. "They went back to film the cubs, didn't they?" Sara said. Several of the film crew nodded. Sara swore again, grabbed her rifle and set off at a trot. In all likelihood, the men would never be able to find the sow and her cubs; they were likely far away by now. There were plenty of other bears around, however, and if the clearing where they had seen the cubs was near the den, they would still be nearby. That was assuming they could even find the clearing without getting themselves lost. Her worst fears were realized as she made it to the edge of the clearing. She could see Kramer and the cameraman about a hundred yards away and less than fifty feet from the frolicking cubs. The little bruins were intrigued rather than intimidated by the presence of the humans. Despite its massive size, a full grown brown bear can run at a speed of thirty-five miles an hour for long distances. The sow was barely one hundred yards away from the two men when she emerged from the trees at the far end of the clearing, and they were between her and her cubs. With an enraged roar, she dropped her head and charged. Kramer and the cameraman heard the sow, saw her charging, and immediately abandoned their equipment and started running. It was wasted energy and would buy them no more than a few extra seconds. Sara knew this charge was no feint. As soon as the men had started running, the cubs had turned and run towards their mother. She had barreled past them without pause, her maternal instincts screaming one thing - kill! There was no choice. Sara swung her rifle to her shoulder, flicking off the safety as she dropped to a kneeling position. There was no thought of a warning shot; the sow had to weigh close to eight hundred pounds, and a little dirt kicking up in her face was not going to turn her. Sara settled the crosshairs on target, leading the sow to compensate for her forward momentum. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she squeezed the trigger. It was a rushed shot; the bear was at full speed, and the angle was far from ideal, but Sara never missed. The .375 H&H Magnum round struck just forward of the sow's left shoulder, driving through her lung and heart and bringing her crashing to the ground less than five yards from the filmmakers. Sara immediately worked the bolt of her rifle and chambered another round, but no follow up shot was necessary. The cubs stopped in confusion for a moment, and then ran to the fallen sow and began wailing, nudging and pawing at her still form. Sara tried to choke back a sob but she couldn't; she hated crying, hated showing any form of weakness, but the sight of the two cubs, orphaned by her bullet, was like a dagger to her heart. Her body shook as she cried, her rifle falling to the ground. "She would've killed us!" an out of breath Kramer exclaimed as he and the cameraman reached Sara. "Thank God you ...." Sara was on her feet in a flash, her fist snapping out and flattening Kramer's nose. The producer staggered back and fell to the ground, blood streaming over his upper lip. "You ignorant son of a bitch! I should've let her rip you both to pieces!" "You broke my nose!" Kramer cried, scrambling to his feet. "I'll sue! You saw her hit me, Chuck ... I didn't do anything!" Chuck, the cameraman, looked at Kramer and shook his head. It was obvious that he was not only shaken by his brush with death, but troubled by his part in the incident as well. "That was a nasty tumble you took," Chuck said. "You need to watch your feet." "What?" Sara bent down and retrieved her rifle, flicking the safety back on before slinging it over her shoulder. She shot a withering glare at Kramer before turning and starting back towards camp. "Sara, what about the cubs?" Chuck asked. "Can't we take them with us?" Sara stopped, turned and shook her head. "I'll contact the lodge when we get back to camp. This has to be reported to Fish and Game. They'll decide what, if anything, will be done with the cubs." "They'll die out here on their own ... won't they?" The tears running down Sara's face were the only answer she gave. CHAPTER 3 When the rangers from Fish and Game arrived the next day, they took statements from Sara and the two men. Kramer demanded that they arrest Sara for assault, but Chuck stuck to his story that Kramer had tripped and fallen. The rangers didn't buy it for a minute, but neither did they challenge it. "I would have done the same thing, Sara," one of them told her. When Sara led the rangers to the site of the incident, the cubs were nowhere to be seen. Something, probably another bear, had been feeding on the body of the sow, and the cubs had likely been forced to flee. The rangers said they would set up traps in the area for the cubs. Sara wasn't very optimistic about their chances alone in the wild; they would have remained with their mother for at least another year before setting off on their own naturally. "She was just protecting her babies," Sara sighed. "Sara, don't beat yourself up about it," one of the rangers said. "You weren't to blame. That idiot Kramer admitted he waited until you were away from camp before he pulled this stunt. It's a shame we can't cite him for stupidity." The trip was supposed to last for three more days, but they cut it short and flew back to the lodge that afternoon. They had more than enough footage for their documentary, and Sara wanted to have nothing more to do with Kramer. When the Cessna coasted up to the float plane dock on Iliamna Lake, Sara saw that David's de Havilland Beaver was not there. She assumed he had flown to Anchorage with Brian as he had said he might, and she set about supervising the unloading of the float plane. When she reached the lodge, she saw that Kramer was talking to Hubert, the producer waving his arms about very animatedly as he spoke. No doubt he was complaining about her, but she wasn't about to get into it with him. She waved to Hubert and gave him a sympathetic smile, and then went back out to the truck and drove home. She began to get concerned as sunset neared and David and Brian were not back. David was an expert bush pilot, but she still worried. Her cabin had no phone, so she drove back to the lodge and called his apartment in Anchorage, but only got his answering machine. She then tried his satellite phone, but again got no answer. A call to the airport in Anchorage revealed that his float-plane was parked right where he had left it that morning. "Look, I'm sure they're all right," Hubert comforted her. "They weren't expecting you back for another three days." "I know, you're probably right," Sara said. The lodge phone rang and Hubert answered it. "Yes, she's right here," he said, passing the phone to Sara. Sara took the phone and said, "Hello?" "Hello Svetlana." The voice and the name sent an icy chill through Sara's body. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the phone tighter. "Where are they?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "They are safe, for now," the man said. "I've made arrangements for your travel. Your flight leaves Anchorage tomorrow afternoon. I'm sure I don't have to tell you not to contact the authorities." Sara listened as the man gave her flight details, a slight trace of amusement evident in his voice. "Radchek, if you harm them ...." "My dear Svetlana, you are hardly in a position to threaten me. I am looking forward to seeing you again." The line went dead, and Sara handed the phone back to Hubert. "Is everything all right, Sara?" Sara looked at the man who had taken her in and given her a fresh start and shook her head. "No, it's not. I need to get to Anchorage to catch a plane." "Sara, what's going on?" Hubert asked. "My past has finally caught up with me," Sara whispered. Her head dropped, and she nearly started crying, but she fought the tears. "Hubert, you've done more for me than I had any right to expect. I need to get to Anchorage, and I need you to trust me when I say I can't tell you why." "But when will you be back?" Sara's shoulders slumped as she said, "I may not be back." CHAPTER 4 But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame, Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same; And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail, The female of the species must be deadlier than the male. - Kipling ** After ten years in Alaska, the climate in Rio de Janeiro was oppressively hot and muggy. Dressed in jeans and a lightweight three-quarter sleeve blouse, Sara carried only a purse and the long duster style wool coat she no longer needed. It wasn't hard to spot Mapoza. The six foot, ten inch tall Zulu towered above everyone at the airport, his hairless head glistening. He smiled as she approached, a frighteningly feral grin that made her shudder. Mapoza didn't speak; his throat bore a ragged scar, a memento from an encounter with a male lion when he was a young man. The lion had taken Mapoza's voice, but he had killed the predator with his bare hands. The towering African motioned for her to follow. Sara was not surprised that he led her to another part of the airport, where they boarded a twin engine turboprop aircraft. A two hour flight followed, taking her to an island over three hundred miles off the coast of Brazil. Mapoza and the pilot left the plane without even looking at her. They knew she had nowhere to go. Sara sat there for several minutes gathering her courage and then exited the plane. He was waiting for her a short distance away. Vadim Radchek had been an impressive figure ten years ago, and he was no less so now. His hair was a little grayer, but that was to be expected since he had to be in his fifties. His face had lost none of its rugged handsomeness, and his body was still firm and athletic. As Sara approached, a broad smile spread across his face. "Svetlana, you are even lovelier than I remember," Radchek said, extending his hand. Sara ignored the hand and glared at him as she said, "My name is Sara. Where are my son and David?" The smile did not disappear as Radchek said, "Brian and I are spending some quality time together. You may see him at dinner." Sara opened her mouth to protest, but Radchek held up his hand. "You have had ten years with him, my dear. You have nothing to fear; he is in no danger from me. As for Dr. Hollister, Mapoza will take you to him. I'm sure the two of you have much to discuss." Radchek motioned to a waiting jeep, and once Sara was in the vehicle with the big Zulu, she was driven to Radchek's palatial manor. She was trembling again as she entered the estate, too many memories threatening to overwhelm her. Mapoza led her upstairs and into the west wing of the house. He stopped at a set of ornate double doors and after unlocking them gestured for Sara to enter. The room beyond was familiar, and Sara hesitated before entering. Mapoza saw her hesitation and his lips spread wide in a toothy smile. Sara forced herself to move, and after she entered the sitting room, the door closed behind her. The click of the lock seemed to echo ominously in her ears. "Sara!" David sprang from the sofa where he had been seated and rushed towards her, but Sara didn't seem to notice him. She moved deeper into the large, luxurious sitting room and walked over to a door in the right wall. "Sara, what is going on? Who is this madman?" Sara still didn't answer. Instead, she opened the door to reveal a bedroom, its furnishings a stark contrast to the rest of the estate. The walls were a pale lavender, and there were matching, frilly curtains on the barred windows. There was a large poster bed draped with gauzy curtains, and against one wall was a vanity with an ornate teak framed mirror. "This was my room," Sara whispered. "I hoped ... I prayed I would never see this place again." "Sara, please, talk to me," David begged. Sara turned and looked at David, struggling to maintain control. "Are you all right?" "All things considered, yes," David said. "Sara, who is this guy? Why did he bring us here?" "His name is Vadim Radchek," Sara said slowly. "He's a madman." "I had figured that part out for myself," David said. "That doesn't explain any of this though." "David, there are things about me ... it's a very long story, and you won't believe it when I tell you." "Why don't you give me the chance," David said. Sara nodded, "I owe you that." She walked back into the sitting room and sat down on the sofa. David sat down next to her and waited for her to begin. Sara drew in a deep breath and started to speak. "It's hard to believe it's been almost eleven years," Sara said slowly. "My friend and I had a hunting lodge in Africa. Most of our clients were very wealthy, so when we were contacted by Vadim Radchek, it wasn't unusual. What was strange was that he wanted us to meet with him on this island, before we set up a safari. The money he offered was just too good to turn down though." "Wait, I'm confused," David said. "Eleven years ago? Sara, you couldn't have been more than eighteen ... how could you have owned a hunting lodge in Africa?" Sara looked down at the floor and didn't speak for a long time. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I wasn't the same person then, David." CHAPTER 5 September 2, 1995 "Console do Infort?no." Carter Rainsford turned to his friend Brian Whitney and said, "What was that, Brian?" "That's the name of the island," Brian said. "Console do Infort?no. It means, island of misfortune. Apparently, the place had quite a reputation among sailors around the turn of the century. Lots of shipwrecks." Carter peered out the window of the twin engine aircraft and studied the island below. It was fairly rugged looking, with thick vegetation covering most of it. The northern end consisted of high rocky cliffs. A rocky ridge bisected the island at its midpoint and looked to be nearly impassable, except for a narrow strip on the eastern side of the island. The island narrowed dramatically at its southern end, until it was a mere spit of sandy beach extending into the sea. A wide beach ran along the western edge of the island, starting at the ridge and extending north. It curved around to the west forming a well sheltered bay, and a short distance inland from its northern reach Carter could see a clearing with a runway. A long dock stretched out over the blue-green water, directly south of the runway. Several small boats and a forty-five foot sailing yacht were moored at the dock. The yacht reminded Carter of his own boat, though it was a good bit larger. Hunting and sailing were the two passions of his life, and he was an expert in both. "This Radchek must be really loaded," Carter said. "He's big in pharmaceuticals," Brian said. "His real passion is for hunting though." "Which is where we come in. I still think it would have made more sense to meet him in Africa rather than here." "It's his dime," Brian said. "So we get to spend a few days on a lush tropical island. What's there to complain about?" Carter admitted he couldn't think of a thing, but something about the whole situation made him uneasy. The two friends had established quite a reputation over the years, both as hunters and as guides. They had successfully hunted all of the Big Five in Africa, as well as moose, elk and bear in North America. Their safari service in South Africa was considered to be one of the best, and they had clients from around the world who paid large sums of money to experience the ultimate in hunting. Though both were avid outdoorsmen and hunters, they each brought their own unique skills to the business they partnered. Brian was the administrator and accountant. He handled the numerous details required to keep their operation not only solvent but profitable. Carter ran the operations end of things, planning safaris and guiding clients. He also worked extensively with the locals in managing the wildlife of the area, ensuring that the populations remained healthy and vibrant. For Carter, that was what it was all about. He loved the thrill of the hunt, it was true, but even more he loved all manner of wildlife. The plain and simple truth was that without the intervention of man, without carefully managed preserves, the world would lose countless majestic, beautiful species. The plane circled around and descended towards the airstrip, and a few minutes later they were on the ground. Carter and Brian were met by a very attractive blonde haired woman who introduced herself as Dr. Annette Parsons. Next to her stood a towering African who fixed each of the men with a withering gaze, his right hand resting casually on the grip of a large machete sheathed at his hip. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you," Dr. Parsons said, gesturing to the man next to her. "This is Mapoza. Don't be intimidated by his silence, he doesn't speak. He'll see to your luggage while we go up to the estate." "This is quite a setup Mr. Radchek has here, Dr. Parsons," Carter remarked as they walked towards a nearby Land Rover. "Please, call me Anne. Yes, Vadim has built quite a paradise here. I'm sure the two of you will find it particularly appealing." "Why is that?" Brian asked. "Vadim has created his own personal wildlife preserve. There are thriving populations of both jaguars and pumas here on the island. He's also looking into importing some other species." The Land Rover took them from the airstrip to an immense European style mansion. It's well manicured lawn and neatly trimmed hedges were totally anachronistic in the middle of the dense jungle. The Land Rover deposited them at the base of a set of wide marble steps and then headed back to the airstrip to retrieve their luggage. "Where does the electricity come from?" Carter wondered aloud as they climbed the steps to the mansion. "Geothermal vents on the north end of the island," Anne explained. The mansion doors opened to reveal an elegant round foyer, richly appointed, which continued back into a great room with a huge fireplace that was framed by an immense pair of elephant tusks. The great room was filled with trophies from every kind of dangerous game animal imaginable. "So what exactly does he need us for?" Brian wondered. "I'm sure Vadim will explain everything at dinner," Anne said. "In the meantime, allow me to show you to your quarters, so you can relax for a bit after your journey." They followed the pretty blonde upstairs and into the west wing of the mansion, which turned out to be a lavish guest apartment. Three large bedrooms shared a common sitting area. The d?cor was very masculine, with the head of a large cape buffalo mounted over the fireplace. "These rooms are for you," Anne said, indicating two of the bedroom doors. "The third bedroom is in need of some remodeling and is sealed off at the moment. "Dinner is at six, the dress is casual. The dining room is fairly easy to find; I'm sure two accomplished trackers like yourselves won't have any problem." "We'll just follow our noses," Brian said, giving the pretty blonde his best roguish grin. "I'll leave you two to get settled in then." When she was gone, the two men looked about the apartment for a bit. A porter arrived after a few minutes with their luggage, and they went about unpacking for their stay. Once that was done, they returned to the common area. "Don't you find this all a bit strange?" Carter asked. "How so? I mean this Radchek is obviously a bit eccentric, but then a lot of the rich guys we've taken out have had their quirks." "I don't like it," Carter told his friend. "I can't explain it, but I have this feeling ... like I'm being stalked. Every instinct is screaming that I should run." "Well, you always have been the paranoid half of the partnership," Brian said. "Just relax and enjoy it; this guy is going to pay us a boatload of money for the hunting trip of a lifetime." "You said it yourself, Brian. What does he need us for? He's got trophies of all the Big Five down there and then some." "So he wants to relive past glories. Just take a deep breath and chill, man." By the time six o'clock arrived, Carter's misgivings had only increased. The fact that there was nothing concrete to base them on only made it worse. When they entered the dining room for dinner, Anne was already there. The three chatted for a time over cocktails, until their host joined them. Vadim Radchek was an imposing figure. It wasn't that he was overly large; he was no taller than Carter at six-two. It wasn't that he was in excellent physical condition either, though he was. Rather it was the intensity of his eyes. They were dark and piercing, analyzing everything they settled on with a predatory gleam. "Gentleman, it is so good to meet you in person," Radchek said as he shook their hands. Carter felt as though they were being sized up, like a big cat circling its prey before striking. He tried to shake the feeling off, but it refused to go away. "I'm sure you must be very curious about why I asked you to join me here," Radchek said as servants began bringing out food. "I gather you're not interested in adding another trophy to your collection," Carter said as they moved to the table. Without a conscious thought, he pulled out Anne's chair and waited until she was seated before taking his own. Radchek's eyes never left him, and he wondered if the two were lovers. "No, I'm not," Radchek said. "I confess that hunting traditional big game has lost much of its appeal for me. No, my current hunts are much more ... interesting. We'll talk more after dinner, but for now let us enjoy our feast and perhaps trade a few stories of hunts past." The meal was excellent, which was not surprising by any means. There were dishes from numerous countries, including several African specialties that were familiar to the two men. The conversation was pleasant and often animated as the three hunters exchanged their tales. Radchek had many very colorful tales, and Carter soon found himself relaxing, no doubt helped by the excellent wine. Perhaps Brian was right. After dinner they retired to the great room for cognac, and Radchek gave them some of the history behind a few of his more spectacular trophies. Finally, he paused and turned to Anne. "Well, we have kept our guests waiting long enough, Anne." The pretty blonde nodded and left the room for a moment. When she returned, she was carrying a glass case that held a long stemmed plant with white flowers. She set the case on the coffee table and sat down next to Carter. "This is what we are hunting," she said. "An orchid?" Carter asked. "Very good, Mr. Rainsford," Radchek said. "A very rare, very special orchid." "It's called anthizogynaikeium," Anne said. "More correctly, that's the name the botanist who discovered it in 1865 gave it. The name means 'Blossom of Woman'." "Somehow, I don't believe you're after them because they're pretty," Brian said, his speech a bit slurred. "No, I am interested in them because they hold the key to prolonging life," Radchek said, "perhaps even eliminating the ravages of age all together." Brian laughed out loud, but Carter didn't; he could see that Radchek was completely serious. Anne too showed no sign of amusement. "This orchid is an extremely rare genus of the subfamily Apostasioideae, the most primitive of the orchids," Anne continued. "Until we got our hands on the few specimens we have, it was only known through drawings in a few botanical journals from the late nineteenth century. The nectar contains a very unique and complex organic compound that is actually capable of regenerating cells, reversing the damage that has crept into them over time." "What has this got to do with us?" Carter asked. He felt a bit light headed and decided he had best lay off the cognac. "This plant and the other samples we acquired came from Africa, somewhere in the area near your lodge," Anne explained. "Unfortunately, we don't know the exact location. We would like to use your lodge as a base of operations and enlist your knowledge of the region in our search for the orchids." "You don't know the exact location?" Carter said. He was having a difficult time focusing on what Anne was telling him. "Unfortunately the individual I acquired the specimens from expired before he divulged the exact location," Radchek said. Anne turned to Radchek with a shocked look. "You told me you got them through a third party and couldn't locate the person who found them." "You killed him," Carter said, the words thick on his tongue. Anne looked at him sharply. "Carter, are you all right?" Carter shook his head and looked at the pretty blonde, but her face was fuzzy and out of focus. He looked over to Brian and saw that his friend was slumped back in his chair, apparently asleep. "He'll be quite all right, Anne," Radchek said. "The sedative will merely render him unconscious for a while." "Vadim, what have you done!" Anne cried. Carter tried to rise, but only made it halfway before he collapsed back to the sofa. He heard Anne and Radchek arguing, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. His vision began to narrow, and he fought to keep his eyes open. The drug was too powerful, and he finally slipped into darkness with the sound of Radchek's laughter echoing in his ears. CHAPTER 6 Waking up was like clawing his way out of a shallow grave. Whatever the sedative had been, it had left him with the mother of all hangovers. His entire body hurt, and his skin felt cool, like someone had rubbed menthol over his entire body. "Carter, can you hear me?" He opened his eyes and saw Anne sitting beside his bed. The room was not the one he had put his belongings in earlier. That had been decorated in masculine fashion as was the rest of the house, but this room had a definite feminine theme to the d?cor. He assumed it must be Anne's room. "What happened?" "Vadim drugged you," Anne said, anger, and fear, apparent in her voice. "Please believe me, Carter, I had no idea what he was really planning." Carter tried to rise but had no strength. Just the simple task of moving his head nearly exhausted him. "What the hell did he give me?" "After you were knocked out, he injected you with a massive dose of the processed nectar of the orchid," Susan said. "That's what this is all about? He wants to use us as human guinea pigs? Where's Brian?" "Brian is fine, Vadim has him locked in the basement. He wasn't injected." "I don't understand ... what is he trying to do?" Anne bit her lower lip but didn't speak immediately. Carter could see that she was frightened, and he didn't believe it was an act. "Vadim decided it would be easier to take what he wants. With you and Brian out of the way, he can move into the area near your lodge and find the orchids without anyone knowing." "So he's poisoned me with that plant sap? Is that why my skin feels so strange?" "It's not poison ... it won't harm you, not really," Anne said. She started to say more and then stopped. "Anne, please ...." Anne sighed and said, "The chemical in the nectar does more than reverse the effects of aging. It was called the Blossom of Woman for a reason. According to legend, the indigenous tribes used it to transform males captured from other tribes into females." "And he believes that?" Carter said. "He's mad!" "He may well be mad, Carter, but the process works. I've seen it happen. We tested it on six male chimpanzees. Over the course of a week, they were completely transformed into females." "Th ... that's impossible!" Carter protested. Then Anne's words sunk in and he added, "Completely?" Anne nodded, "All six were bred with other males and gave birth to healthy offspring. I might add that they took to raising their young as though they had always been female." "I've got to get out of here," Carter said, struggling to rise. Anne easily pushed him back down. "It's too late, Carter. The process has already begun. You're weak because your muscle mass is already drastically diminished. The chemical is altering your DNA at this very moment and reshaping your body." "I'll kill the bastard! Can you get me a weapon ... a gun ... a knife ... anything?" Anne shook her head sadly, "I'm locked in the suite here with you. Vadim had this room already prepared for you. He planned this from the beginning." "What .. why? I don't understand." "It's quite simple," Radchek's voice said from the doorway. He entered the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed, that seemingly ever present predatory grin on his face. "Next to me, you are undoubtedly the finest hunter on earth. Once you have been transformed, I intend to make you my wife, a wife that understands my passion for hunting and who will bear me children who will also share my passion." "You're insane," Carter hissed. "What makes you think I'll cooperate with your madness?" "Because if you don't, your friend's life will be forfeit," Radchek said. Carter shook his head, his eyes wide in horror. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; it just couldn't be possible. "He'll do it, Carter," Anne said, casting a frightened look at Radchek. "He won't hesitate to kill Brian or anyone else who gets in his way." "I'm giving you a great gift, Rainsford," Radchek sneered. "You're forty- three years old. When the transformation is complete, you'll be a young woman. We can't be certain exactly how much younger, but the data from our tests on the primates indicates we can expect at least a twenty year reduction in your physical age." "I want to see Brian," Carter said. "I want to know that he's all right." "I'll have him brought up this evening," Radchek said. "In fact, I'll allow you to see him every day as you transform, so that he will have no doubts as well. "Dr. Parsons will be with you through the entire process and has everything she should need to make you comfortable. I'm looking forward to seeing the woman you will become." Radchek turned and left, chuckling to himself. Carter was furious, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. He was completely at the mercy of a madman. CHAPTER 7 By the end of the first day, the effects of the transformation were already apparent. Carter's body hair simply fell out. It only made matters worse that Anne had to help him to the shower, and then help him rinse the hair off while a servant changed the bedsheets. He was a strong, vital man, and the weakness caused by the transformation sent him spiraling into depression. Anne encouraged him to try to rest, but even though he was so weak, he could hardly move; it was impossible to sleep. His skin was very sensitive; sometimes he was hot, sometimes cold, and sometimes it felt as though he was covered with ants. The silk sheets of the bed felt like sandpaper. As Radchek had promised, Brian was brought in to see him later that day. Even though Carter had yet to look in a mirror, the expression on Brian's face told him he had already changed dramatically. "I'll get you out of here, buddy, I promise," were the first words out of Brian's mouth. "No, you won't," Carter said. "You don't try anything; this guy is insane. I'm too weak to be of any help. We have to wait, Brian." "Anne, isn't there something you can do, some way to stop this?" Brian asked. Anne shook her head and said. "I don't even know how the process works. I couldn't begin to attempt to counteract it." "It's just not possible!" Brian shouted, pacing agitatedly about the bedroom. "How can some plant sap possibly change a person's gender?" "It's not just the sap from the orchid," Anne said. "There are other ingredients, all fairly easy to obtain. There's also ... a ritual." Both men stared at the blonde scientist, unwilling to believe what she was saying. "You mean it's magic?" Brian asked. "Anne, that's preposterous! How can a scientist believe such bullshit?" "I believe because I've seen it work. We had two groups of chimps in the test we did. One was a control group. The ... the potion was administered to them without the ritual - nothing happened. Only the group on which the ritual was performed were transformed." "And Radchek did the ritual after he gave it to me?" Carter asked. Anne nodded, "He's also refined the compound. It's much more potent now. The legends spoke of the transformation taking place over a period of weeks; now it takes only a few days." Carter opened his mouth to speak, but instead let out a cry of pain as his body felt as though it were being pulled in several directions at once. Anne opened the drawer on the night stand and pulled out a syringe, but the spasm passed quickly. Carter eyed the syringe nervously as she replaced it in the drawer. "It's just a pain killer, Carter," Anne said. "It's going to get worse, isn't it?" "The transformation won't be pleasant, Carter. If it proceeds as it did in the tests, your body will be radically altered. By tomorrow, your skeletal structure will begin to change, and I won't lie, that is going to be incredibly painful." Before they could talk anymore, the big Zulu, Mapoza, came into the suite and indicated that Brian was to follow him. For a moment it looked like Brian was going to resist, but Carter shook his head sharply. Brian never had been much of a fighter, and even at his best, Carter would have thought twice before trying to take on the towering African. By the next morning, Carter was delirious with fever and pain. Anne did her best to ease his suffering, but she was afraid to use any powerful drugs; there was no way of knowing what kind of interaction they might have with the strange compound coursing through his system. For the most part, all she could do was mop his brow and hold his hand, whispering words of encouragement that went largely unheard. Over the course of twelve days, Carter was completely transformed. The scientist in Anne couldn't help but marvel at the transformation. She watched as Carter's strong, masculine face became softer, rounder. His barrel chest narrowed, and the sculpted muscles he had worked so hard to achieve and maintain faded away. On the third day, Anne managed to convince Radchek that she needed help. The sheets of Carter's bed had to be changed frequently, and even though he was rapidly losing weight, she was not able to move him around herself. Brian was moved into one of the other bedrooms of the suite, and for the rest of the process helped Anne take care of his friend. Anne needed no special insight to see Brian's distress as he watched his friend transformed. It wasn't the fact that Carter's gender was being changed; it was apparent that their friendship ran deep and Brian would stand beside his friend no matter what. But to watch Carter in such agony, his body constantly wracked with convulsions, was almost more than he could bear. Carter cried out incoherently and thrashed about, and in the rare moments when he was lucid, he begged them to kill him. Carter's condition made it impossible for him to eat. Fortunately, Radchek had ensured that the proper supplies and equipment were available for nearly any contingency. Anne inserted a nasogastric tube to keep Carter fed and hydrated throughout the process. She also inserted an intravenous line into the back of Carter's hand, the constant drip administering a painkiller and mild sedative to ease the worst of the agony. Finally, mercifully, on the twelfth day, Carter's fever broke, and with a loud sigh he lapsed into a deep, peaceful sleep. It would have been a cause for rejoicing, except Carter was no longer the man he had once been - he was no longer a man at all. What had once been a tall, muscular man in his early forties was now a beautiful, lithe girl perhaps eighteen years old. Her breasts were pert and firm; not overly large, but no doubt they would seem so to someone who had never had them before. Her hair was still closely cropped as Carter had always styled it, but Anne thought it looked a little lighter, more auburn than the dark brown it had been. She slept for a full day, Anne never leaving her side for more than a few minutes. Carter didn't even stir when Anne removed the feeding tube and IV. When at last she opened her eyes, she looked at Anne and smiled, then stretched sensuously, as one might after waking up from a pleasant night's sleep. A full length mirror was in the corner of the bedroom, and when she caught sight of her reflection, she remembered where she was. That was when the screaming started. Anne pulled the hysterical girl close and held her, doing her best to calm her and failing miserably. How do you comfort someone who has awakened from a nightmare only to find out it was not a nightmare at all? Brian burst into the bedroom, but instead of being a comfort, his appearance made the screaming worse. Anne motioned for him to leave, and reluctantly he did so. Finally, the screaming stopped, primarily because she simply had no more energy to scream. Anne pulled back and looked her in the face. Her eyes were wide and wild and kept darting about the room. Anne had no idea what kind of mental state she might be in. "Carter, do you know who I am?" The girl nodded and her mouth moved, but the only sounds that came out were unintelligible noises. Fear changed to frustration as she tried again to speak. Anne could tell that she knew what she wanted to say, but she was having great difficulty forming the words. "An...ne ...." She at last got out, the name long and slurred. Her voice was a rich, pleasant alto, despite her difficulty speaking. "That's good, sweetheart," Anne said. "Your vocal chords have been altered drastically, and it's probably going to take some time to get used to speaking. Do you understand?" "Ye ... yessss." "Just take it slow and don't try to force it. How do you feel? Are you in any pain?" Carter shook her head. "Well, that's a good sign. I want to give you a thorough examination, but first do you need anything? Are you hungry or thirsty?" "Wa ... wa ...ter...." Anne rose from her chair and walked to a nearby table where a pitcher of water and several glasses were arranged. She poured a glass of water and brought it back to Carter, who immediately began gulping it down. "Easy, Carter, take it slow," Anne said. Carter did as she suggested, and once the glass was empty, she handed it back to Anne. "There, do you feel better now?" Carter didn't answer, just gave Anne a sour look. "I suppose that was an asinine question," Anne said. "Carter, I know this is ... well, I don't really know, but I can imagine how hard this must be. I'll be right here to help you any way I can." Tears formed in Carter's eyes. She tried to hold them back, but her chaotic emotional state made that impossible. All she could think of was Radchek and his plan to make her his wife, to make her bear his children. Soon she was sobbing, her eyes wide and frightened. Her lips moved as she struggled to form words. "M ... make it ... st ... stop...," she pleaded. "Pl ...please ... k ... k ... kill me...." "You're frightened and confused," Anne said as she pulled Carter close again. "But you're strong, Carter. You'll get through this; I know you will." Carter continued to sob, and Anne was very worried about her emotional and mental state. She had no data on how the process might affect a human. The chimpanzees had adapted easily enough, but they were unlikely able to really comprehend what had happened to them. Carter knew what had been done all too well, and she knew what was in store. As she continued to comfort the sobbing girl, Anne slipped her hand into the drawer of the night stand. She pulled out a prepared syringe and stabbed it into Carter's shoulder. The girl recoiled away from her, fear in her eyes. "It's just a sedative, Carter. You need to rest." Carter settled back into the bed, her eyes closing as the sedative took effect. Once she was soundly asleep, Anne removed all the drugs from the drawer and took them with her into the sitting room. She secured them in a cabinet that had a lockable drawer and then pocketed the key. "How is he ... I mean she?" Brian asked. "I gave her a sedative," Anne said. "She's very traumatized; we'll have to watch her constantly." "Carter would never...." "Brian, that is not Carter anymore, not the Carter you knew," Anne said. "That poor girl is dealing with a level of emotional turmoil that we can't even imagine. Until she gets a grip on herself, she could do anything." Chapter 8 The next day Radchek returned, wanting to have a look at his future wife. Carter was still sedated; Anne suspected that while her physical transformation was complete, mentally, she was still changing as her brain chemistry and hormone levels stabilized. Radchek was not pleased, but when Anne explained that Carter might be suicidal, he backed off and even allowed Brian to remain in the suite to help watch her. Brian was in an agony of his own. He had no intention of allowing Radchek to turn his friend into some kind of trophy wife, and yet he was powerless to do anything. He had already scoured the suite looking for something that could be used as a weapon and come up empty. The only thing that even came close was the supply of sedatives Anne had, but Radchek never entered the suite without Mapoza at his side. "I'll find a way," he whispered as he watched the sleeping girl. Carter awoke late the next morning while Brian was still there. She smiled when she saw him, but her expression quickly changed as she remembered what had happened. "I'll get Anne," Brian said, rising from his chair. "No, p ... please stay...." Brian nodded and returned to his chair. He didn't say anything for a long time; he just sat there and watched his friend. She started to struggle into a sitting position, and when Brian moved to help her, she shook her head furiously. He settled back into the chair. Once she was sitting up, Carter began looking around the room. She reached up and felt her hair, which had grown two inches in two days. She pointedly avoided looking down at her chest for some time, but finally she did and sighed. They weren't huge, but they weren't small either. "Do you feel like eating, Carter?" Brian asked. "You haven't had any solid food in days. Anne had to put a feeding tube in." At the mention of food, Carter felt her stomach grumble. She nodded her head and struggled for a moment to speak. "Hungry," she said. Brian smiled and rose, walking over to the door. He opened it and stuck his head out, and Carter heard him call for Anne. The pretty blonde was in the bedroom a few seconds later. "How are you feeling, Carter?" "Okay," Carter said. "Please, d...don't make me sl ... sleep again." "I won't, dear," Susan said as she took Carter's pulse. "She said she's hungry, Anne," Brian said. "I'll call down and have some breakfast brought up." "Nothing heavy," Anne instructed. "Some scrambled eggs and toast should be all right for now." Brian nodded and left the bedroom. Anne sat down on the bed next to Carter and began taking her blood pressure. "Now, tell me how you really feel." "Sc...scared," Carter admitted. "I'm not going to do anything st...stupid though." "That's good to hear," Anne said. "Your speech is already improving." "It feeeelss funn...ny." "I suspect your speech difficulties are a result of your altered emotional state," Anne said. "Adults who stutter tend to have higher brain activity during speech in their right hemisphere, which governs emotion. As a female, you now have a very different emotional structure than you're used to, and it's causing some difficulty. I'm confident you'll be fine." Anne gave Carter a cursory examination while they waited for her breakfast. She appeared to be in excellent health, though a bit underweight. That was to be expected, as she hadn't had any real food for over a week. It didn't take long for her breakfast to arrive, and while she ate, Brian and Anne sat quietly with her. Carter noticed that Brian was very pointedly trying not to look at her. "Brian, you ... you won't break m...me by looking at m...me." "I'm sorry, Carter," Brian said. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." "Too late," Carter said, and she actually grinned. "How...how d...do I look?" Brian looked at Anne before speaking. She nodded her head, indicating he should be honest. "You're gorgeous, Carter." Carter nodded her head slightly, as if his words confirmed what she already knew. She finished her light breakfast and washed it down with two large glasses of orange juice. Brian took the tray from her and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "I'd like to do a detailed exam now, Carter," Anne said once he was gone. "It'll feel a little strange, but I need to determine if everything is...." "I underst...stand." "I also need to take your measurements," Anne said, her voice taking on an angry edge. "Radchek," Carter whispered. Anne nodded, "He said he wants to begin assembling your wardrobe." "Th...that's f...f...fine. I'll n...need clothes if...if...." "Just relax, sweetheart; don't try to force it." Carter took a deep breath and tried again, "I'll need clothes ... if I'm going to be his wife." CHAPTER 9 "Carter, are you out of your mind?" Carter looked up from her lunch and shook her head. She felt ridiculous wearing her old bathrobe, but that was the only article of her old clothes that she could possibly use for now. "No, Brian, I'm not," she said. Her stuttering had nearly vanished, but her speech was still slow and deliberate. "How can you even think of going along with Radchek? The man is insane!" "That may be, but he's also in ... in control," Carter said. "Do you think he'll hesitate to kill you, or Anne? The only thing I have to bargain with is my co...cooperation." "I won't let you do this," Brian said. "You w...won't l...let me?" Carter nearly shouted. "I didn't e...even w...w...want to come here! You're the one that ...that wanted his fu...fucking money so bad!" Brian's face shifted from defiance to pain. He rose from the table and without a word walked into his room and closed the door. "That was unnecessary, don't you think?" Anne said. "It's true," Carter responded. "We didn't need the money. I let Brian talk me into this, and l...look what it got me!" "Just because it's true isn't an excuse for twisting the knife," Anne told her. "You know what Brian is feeling, Carter. He's a man, and you know how you'd be feeling if it was him in your position." "He can't protect me, Anne, no matter how m...much he wants to. But maybe I can protect him. P...please tell Vadim his fianc?e wo...would like to speak with him." Anne nodded and went to the phone to relay the message to Vadim. Carter didn't expect him to come quickly, and she was right. Brian eventually emerged from his room, and Carter apologized for her words. He continued to try and talk her out of cooperating with Radchek, but her mind was made up. She told him that it was the only way she could ensure his safety. What she didn't say was that the idea of staying on the island as Radchek's trophy wife was not nearly as frightening as facing the world as she was now. The island and its estate would be a far less daunting environment. It was two hours before Radchek came to the suite. His face bore a look of triumph that Carter desperately wished she could claw off. "And what may I do for you, my dear?" Radchek asked as he took a seat on the sofa. "I'll do what you w...want me to," Carter said, "but I have conditions." "I expected you would. Please tell me what you propose." "Brian and Anne go free, and you