Breaking Point Chapters 21-25 free porn video

21. Rachel "A woman's guess is much more accurate than a man's certainty." -- Rudyard Kipling, Plain Tales from the Hills ***** The next morning, Rachel awoke and went straight to the bathroom. Careful examination revealed the bruising beginning to show on both breasts. She washed gently and then went to get dressed. As she walked into the boudoir so Juanita came in with an elderly looking gentleman. "Rachel, this is Professor Ferrandis. He wants to talk to you." "Just let me slip on some clothes Juanita." "What happened to your... You were questioned last night? By General Cortez?" Rachel looked at the woman she thought of as her friend and then burst into tears, nodding. "We'll come back, the last thing you need is people asking you more questions, especially personal questions." "Please. Don't go. I could do with some friendly company." "You put some clothes on, whatever you feel comfortable in," Ferrandis said soothingly. Rachel went into the wardrobe and looked at the collected clothes. As usual there were several outfits to choose from, but this time it was her choice. She examined the options, the Armani trouser suit, a floating cocktail dress, a traditional blouse and skirt and a more European day dress. Rachel chose the day dress as it had a slightly higher neckline, to hide the bruises, and it 'looked right'. She returned to the boudoir and sat down with her guests. While she had been dressing, her breakfast had arrived. The local version of eggs Benedict. They talked for over an hour, with Rachel answering even the most personal questions. She was a little confused by some of them, as none of the questions seemed to be about anybody but her. On the walk out the Professor was very thoughtful. Once they were in the lift he shared his thoughts. "It would appear that 'Miss Barker' is a more accurate description than even she fully realises." "Then my initial diagnosis was correct?" "Most definitely Doctor. You and your colleagues have just completely feminised a latent transsexual. I hope your colleagues are prepared for the possible backlash once she realises it." "I think she knows, she has made several attempts to protest the way she thinks he would, but this last week she was a woman among women, it was very telling." "I can imagine. Well, what next?" "You know what's next Professor; I just have to arrange it." ***** Rachel finished her breakfast and waited for her next visitor. She was expecting Cortez or Rodriguez, instead she saw Carlos, now wearing his uniform. "I thought you were on the civilian staff." "You were intended to. But that is before." "What is your real name Major?" "Carlos Ortega, Miss Barker." "Ortega? You're the...Oh that's so lovely." "Pardon?" "You've been looking after Juanita Maria, that's so good of you, considering everything." "Que?" "Never mind, what can I do for you?" "Colonel Rodriguez says he is going to look for another film from his friend in the British Embassy. But not for tonight. He hopes to see you tomorrow." "Thank you." "You sad Miss, you been cry a lot." "Your General had some questions for me, he didn't like some of my answers, I am still in pain from the reminder." "General he very good inquisitor, he teach Colonel Alvarez, before now of course." "That would be about right. Thank you Carlos." Rachel watched him go and sat down at the table again. Quietly she picked up the pack of cards that someone had left and started to play Patience. ***** No-one arrived for the rest of the morning, which confused her completely. Admittedly she was feeling a little abused, but now she was feeling lonely too. She went to look for Carmelita or any of the others, only to find two soldiers at the outer door. "Buenos Dias Senorita." "Whatever. Am I not allowed out then?" "No confraternizar." ("I do not fraternize.") "Lovely. I get the gist. Back to the solitaire then." She went back to the table and started another game of patience, then another. ***** In the control room Ortega was watching as Rachel changed to playing blackjack against herself. He knew that the orders were for isolation, but that didn't mean he had to like them. To his surprise he was joined by Colonel Rodriguez, who he thought was away for the day. "How's she doing?" "Coping I think. She was used to having nobody so the last few days have been overload." "I'll have to cancel the film, unless she wants to watch 'Red October' again. They only have an old print of 'It's a Wonderful Life." "Are we providing a Christmas dinner for our captives?" "That is down to General Cortez, although we will all be involved in the sacred day celebrations." ***** Although there were no timepieces for Rachel to look at, Rodriguez had removed the 'bomb' timer over a week before, she could gauge time quite well, so it was around about two pm that she looked up at the camera. "Some food would be nice?" Nothing happened immediately, so she went to the bedroom for a brief relief. As she returned so one of the substitute nurses entered and handed her a medicine cup of a chalky white liquid. "Drink!" she commanded "What the?" "Please drink," the nurse said, little more politely. Knowing that it would go down her throat one way or another, Rachel swallowed the foul tasting, bitty fluid. "Urgh! That's foul." "It is a powerful laxative," the nurse said haughtily as she turned and left. "What..." Rachel wandered into the bedroom, sat on the end of the bed and looked in a bemused fashion at the door while she tried to fathom this new twist. The bitterness of the drink was still in her mouth, so she helped herself to a glass of water from the carafe by the bed. As she sat there, she examined the events of the night before. Nothing there that would explain this. Surely the Professor's questions were to do with her psychological condition, so why would she be given a laxative? She slipped from the bed, careful to stand on her toes until she had her shoes on. She walked out to the two new guards outside the door, which had been left open. They made it obvious she was to remain in the room. She went back to the bed and sat on the end. About half-an-hour later, after the first effects of the laxative had shown, Juanita walked into the room. She was dressed in a very tailored and expensive business suit. "Stay seated Ms Barker," she said. "I just want to have a quick talk to you." "You're very formal this afternoon Juanita. I take it you're not a nurse, are you?" "No Ms Barker I am not a nurse. I am a genitourinary surgeon, your surgeon. Juanita Sanchez-Montoya." Rachel gulped slightly and looked at the woman she had actually come to like and trust. "I thought you a little too educated for a nurse. Oh good grief, Dr Montoya, you must have been laughing inside at my error." "No, but I did find it hard to truthfully answer your follow-up questions." "Does the fact that you're here mean I soon won't be all there?" "One way of putting it." Suddenly it clicked. "That's what the laxatives are for..." "Correct." "Oh my god." she pressed her right hand between her breasts. "Already? Really?" "Yes. I have been observing you for a while now..." "Breakfast... Oh very clever." "... and I came to the conclusion that this would be a good time, which is why I stopped the hormones." "Didn't you need Cortez's okay for that?" "No, I have medical authority here. My other position is as surgeon and physician to the President. I hold the honorary rank of General." "Impressive." "I presume you're going to cooperate? You aren't complaining or fighting?" Rachel shook her head. "It's my only life-line now, isn't it? I couldn't go back, not now." "Why not? Most men would want to return to their manhood?" "That's just it...I don't...especially after last night. I..," Rachel replied. "I feel 'right' now. Heinmann and his cronies have done me a big favour." "When did you last eat?" "Breakfast this morning. You saw it." "That is good. Well, apart from sips of water, nothing else for you. And no water from mid-night." "They may want to talk to me again." "They will have to wait." "I don't think they will see it that way." "That is their problem; I will see you again tomorrow." "Tomorrow?" "Your surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning." With the final sentence proclaimed, Juanita left, leaving Rachel to her magazines, her cards and her thoughts. It seemed strange that she could admit to being glad of her feminine position, appearance and future. It was the first time since Mother had died that she had even acknowledged the existence of her feminine side. A smile crossed her face as she remembered the lie she had told at the dinner table. If Heinmann or Rodriguez had discovered that Rachel had had a couple of 'outings' shortly after the death of her mother, they might not have been so keen to let her free. At least that had not come out despite the confusion, at least she thought so. Well, there was one thing that would stop; the haemorrhage of information that had happened would have to cease. The afternoon went quickly, mostly due to the effects of the laxative, especially when they gave her a second dose, three hours after the first. Carmelita arrived about five am and proceeded to set up her equipment. She then shaved Rachel from the navel down. Conversation was sparse and mostly consisted of: 'move here, spread a little more...' and other such comments. At six, three nurses arrived with a load of tubing and a couple of large jugs. It didn't take Rachel long to calculate what they were there for. They handed her a surgical gown and, once she donned the gown, they set about their task. The indignity of two enemas lasted for nearly two hours, as they made absolutely sure that nothing remained. When they had finished, Juanita returned and had a long examination of Rachel. They then rolled on the thrombosis stockings and inserted a cannula into her left forearm. That was basically it, it confirmed nil by mouth. It also meant that they really would be doing the operation; they would not have gone through this procedure. Rachel suddenly regretted not talking through the operation with Juanita. All that remained was for her to read until the nurse came with the pre- med. Of course, reading was merely a distraction, something to occupy her hands while her mind drifted. The major events of the last six months quickly went by and she put down the magazine. Her mind drifted. ***** The old house was empty now; there was no sparkle or warmth in the stone and brick. The welcome that she provided had died when Louise Rosemary Elizabeth Seymour-Barker had passed. His room, left as he left it, looked Spartan to his eye, none of the comforts he would have liked; but then this had only rarely seen him as his home. He walked down the wood- panelled corridor to his mother's room. Her dresser looked empty, gone was the mother-of pearl handled hairbrush set. That made him feel mad, cheated. He looked in the wardrobes. Only five items remained. Her wedding dress, her Debutante gown, her country jacket and skirt, made of heavy duty corduroy, her Queen Alexandra's Nursing Corps Uniform and a simple black sheath dress. Fired by the need to hold on to something of the mother he had loved, but rarely seen, Ray took the QA uniform and the black sheath dress from the wardrobe. Cautiously he made his way to his own room again and hid them behind the army greatcoat he had grown out of years ago. He chewed at his lip, undecided and not a little scared at what he was contemplating. The sound of someone else in the house startled him; he quickly shut his wardrobe door and furtively looked around for something else to be doing. He went to his suitcase and started to unpack his underwear. He was about to open his dresser drawer when his brother walked in. He was about three inches taller that Ray and his rather lighter brown hair looked almost sandy coloured in the reflected sunlight. The blue-grey of his RAF uniform notwithstanding. He looked round and then at his watch. "Nice of you to turn up at last." "I'm not starting that fight now Jeremy and I'd advise you not to. You are lucky enough to be based in the UK." "Pop made it for the funeral." ***** Rachel shook her head and wiped away the tears that had started to form. That memory was getting just a little too painful. She came to the conclusion that a lot of the memories from Ray's life were painful in one way or another. However, she had nothing to do except sit in the bed, even taking a walk was embargoed, so her mind wandered again. ***** Geneva in summer was a pretty city, Ray thought, as he wandered through his hotel lobby and out into the sunshine. Just shy of his birthday and officially out of a job he had gone to Switzerland to get some time away. At least that was what his briefing had told him. He looked around and then went looking for a caf? or restaurant off rue St. Victor. He had been there for about an hour when he spotted the young girl he was there to talk to. She had been speaking with a group of people in one of the buildings nearby and was now making her way towards him and the caf?. He looked at her carefully. She was plain by accepted standards, little make-up, but sparkling blue eyes and a pert nose. Nervous inside, he waited his moment and then stood in such a way that he knocked a chair into her path, then, neatly caught her before she could fall. "Good grief, how clumsy of me." "Dummkopf." "I'm so sorry; look can I get you something as an apology. You look about in the mood for some Strudel?" Immediately her attitude changed, she accepted his offer and took the seat he had deliberately tripped her with while he ordered two expressos and two slices of Strudel. While they waited he introduced himself. "Ray Barker, late of the UK? You?" "Alfreida, Alfreida Kepler. Do you always pick up girls, literally?" "Truth is this is the first time, but I felt I had to talk to you and you would have just gone past me if I hadn't." ***** A rattling sound brought Rachel back to the present. One of the nurses from earlier was carrying in an instrument tray with a syringe in it. She was followed by two orderlies with a gurney. She helped Rachel up onto the gurney then opened the cannula and injected the pre-med into Rachel's vein. After the injection Rachel was taken to the anaesthesia room, where she was surprised to see Professor Ferrandis. He explained that he was acting as anaesthetist and asked her to start counting. She counted back from twenty and the last number she remembered was nine. ***** A dull ache, a strange wall, indistinct faces. Little vignettes of sound or vision that stayed in her memory. Then came the hazy return to full consciousness. Something tightly bound around her abdomen, a strange feeling of pressure inside, the tingly feeling of stitches in her crouch. There were also bandages on her face, and her nose felt broken. To her surprise, there was no sensation of surgery on her chest, and no bandage either, but a vague tingle from the small of her back. Looking down she could see a tented area over her abdomen and a catheter tube to a bag on the bed-side came out from under the blanket. A woman's face came into view, Juanita Maria Alvarez. "Take it easy. Don't move. Dr Montoya will be here in a minute." "What time is it?" she asked. "Nine p.m." "Bloody hell." "Try not to talk too much. They've done some cheekbone and nasal work on you." "Are you okay?" "No, but I am coming to terms with it. It seems we were more alike than I thought." "We are now. Where are we?" "We're in the infirmary still; they don't want to move you just yet. How do you feel?" "Did you get the number of the truck?" Rachel tried to move but Alvarez held her down. "Don't move, just yet, they have restrained all but your arms, so you'll only hurt yourself." Rachel became aware of the restraints then and stopped trying to move. "How long will I be like this?" "Five days, maybe six. I was stuck for six." Alvarez pulled up the chair and sat, holding Rachel's hand until there was the sound of someone entering the room. "Let's have a look," Juanita Sanchez-Montoya said, just out of Rachel's sight. "Humm, release the straps, she will need to sit up a little." Nurses came into view and Rachel was released and an extra pillow added behind her shoulders. She could see Dr Sanchez-Montoya standing at the foot of the bed preparing to lift the covers onto the cradle over her hips. "I know it's early, but I want to check before we move you. You feel no discomfort?" "It feels strange, sort off stuffed." "That is to be expected. Good, we will move you now. Remember, only sips of water for today, you must take it very easy, no sudden movements, no scratching and no peeking." One of the nurses cranked up the head of the bed, lifting Rachel up from her waist, She then turned to Alvarez. "Let us have a look at you too, come with me." The two Juanita's' went off towards the operating theatre while two nurses and two soldiers wheeled Rachel back to her room. The bed only just went in through the door, but then they nestled it into the usual position and waited for the Doctor to re-join them. Rachel took a couple of sips of water and then picked up the copy of Hello magazine that was lying on the bedside cabinet. When the doctor returned, she was alone. She dismissed the guards and nurses and stood commandingly over Rachel. "Remember, no sudden moves, it's for your own good. Stay quiet and it'll only be another four days, mess up my work and you will regret it." She then turned to the kidney tray on the side. "Your hormones will be restarted at the end of the week. However, since you no longer have any male organs to produce male hormones that need not be too much of a problem, just yet," "What do I have to do?" Juanita drew up a chair and began to explain slowly and carefully the timetable for the week to come, including the procedures when what she called 'the pack' was removed. If Ray had been in control he would have lost it there, but Rachel took the instructions in her stride, understanding the reasoning behind each event as Juanita explained them. They had moved on to future requirements and things to watch out for when Rodriguez entered. "May I speak with Rachel please?" Juniata looked disdainfully at him. "Alone?" "Very well... Until later Rachel." Rachel blinked twice as a response as she didn't want to move her head too much. Rodriguez slipped into the vacated chair and took hold of Rachel's hand. She wanted to take it away, and would have if he had gripped it firmly, but he just lightly held it, gently, almost affectionately. When he spoke, he did so softly. "Well, now there is no argument, Miss Barker." "What I want to know now is, why have you all given up your lever? I definitely can't return to being a man now, so where is my incentive to co-operate?" "Ah, can't give you all our secrets." "What happens to me now?" "According to Cortez, once your surgery is healed sufficiently, you and Maria are both going to be sold to a Madame and put to work as prostitutes. I don't think the President will allow that, not since his physician is your physician. I personally want you for myself, but I am prepared to wait for the surgeon's go-ahead..." The sound of high-heels preceded the arrival of said surgeon. "Right, out please." Rachel waved goodbye as Rodriguez left. Well Doctor, what now?" "Get some sleep." To emphasise this, she injected a mild sedative into Rachel's drip. "Remember, nothing too strenuous and no sudden moves of the legs. I'll be back tomorrow." Rachel drifted off slowly into a hazy sleep, two men's faces dancing before her on the insides of her eyelids as she went. ***** 21. Recovery "Scars are not injuries, Tanner Sack. A scar is a healing. After injury, a scar is what makes you whole."? China Mi?ville, The Scar ***** The following five days were horrible ... But at least she could move her arms and the muscles didn't feel anywhere near as flabby as on her arrival in this underground prison. In addition, she wasn't subjected to the laughter of her captors; indeed, they were the soul of compassion to her. Then came the day she had been both dreading and praying for, the grand unveiling. Mendez removed the bandages around her face, then Rachel watched fascinated and appalled as Juanita slowly removed a horrible black mass from between her legs. To her surprise, Juanita-Maria was there, also watching, almost in horror at the removal of the compressed bandages and gauze. It still didn't help with the small tugging sensation and the pop when the thing came free. "Humm, excelente." Juanita made a full examination of the area, which was still very tender. She re-gloved and one of her fingers probed inside Rachel's behind and she pressed against something firm. Rachel gasped as a strangely pleasurable sensation went through her from the groin up. "Excelente. That felt good, no?" She discarded the gloves and re-gloved again. "Yes," Rachel croaked. "This will hurt though," Juanita warned as she took one of the dilators she had earlier presented Rachel with, covered it with jell and inserted it firmly into the new opening. Rachel gasped in pain as she felt the plastic pushing at her insides, first deeper, then wider as Juanita rolled the dilator around in a circular motion, pushing outwards on the sides. "God!" Rachel exclaimed, despite the warning look from Mendez. "Three times a day, with both sizes," Juanita warned. "Or I will do it!" Rachel wiped away the tears of pain from her eyes and nodded in understanding... "The catheter will be removed tomorrow. If you walk round be careful to keep it low. Once it is removed be careful the first few times when you sit to go, it will spray out like helicopter blades. And remember to wash with warm water swabs if it does and dry thoroughly." Again Rachel nodded, as did Alvarez. "Now let's help you up, you doubtless want to see yourself?" Rachel nodded. Besides Alvarez, Juanita and Mendez, the only others in the room were Carmelita and two of the nurses from the enema. Juanita sent Mendez and the two nurses away so Rachel didn't feel self-conscious as she slipped out of bed, discarded the surgical gown and gingerly walked the five steps to the full-length mirror. She looked at her naked body in the mirror, and then straight down. The contours were not exactly right, but the figure in the mirror could never be mistaken for a man... With the new cheekbones and bobbed nose, she looked very much like her late mother at about the same age. The months in the artificial light, with the softening creams and baths, had left her with a fine silken ivory skin. Her breasts were well shaped now, and the nipples stood proud. Only the catheter looked out of place, which, of course, it was. Alvarez stepped forward and hugged her, gingerly. "Bit of a change from our first meeting?" she asked, raising her thin, delicately arched eyebrows. "I felt a lot more naked then," Rachel croaked. Everyone giggled a little then, for all were now aware of the greeting Alvarez had given 'Barker'. Over the last four days they had grown to be good friends; sisters in a shared torment, although Rachel was still very reserved. ***** It was as well that Alvarez had been there, for Rodriguez had not. He had been busy quizzing the captured rebels and trying to capture others. A lot of what he said and did with Rachel was to achieve the most feminine persona he could cultivate in the new woman. But even he was prone to the Stockholm Syndrome, and he had been drawn to Rachel at the dinner, as the static electricity that had passed between them proved. Neither was Heinmann present, once the story of Tripoli had come out, and Rachel was taken from him for the final surgery, he had stayed away from the bunker offices. Cortez was also an absentee, not that he had been there often, but the Justice Minister insisted on Cortez helping him with the arraignment of the rebels. So none of the remaining men in Rachel's life saw her slow progress over the next three days, to the point where she could walk unaided to the bath, and run the water herself. Nor did they see her first full hair-do, which accentuated the new length of her hair. Nor see her dealing with the pain of dilation with a stoicness that Ray at his most macho couldn't have shown.... However, four days after the unveiling, and just after her salt bath, a very happy and smiling Rodriguez entered her room, carrying a large bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates. She sat up in the bed and smiled at him. "How's my favourite girl?" he asked, in his best 'Oxbridge' accent. "Sore! I walk like John Wayne!" "Never!" "You want me to demonstrate?" She was smiling, even as she moved to swing down from the bed. "Uh, no." "So, you leave me alone for a week, and then try to bribe me with flowers and oh... chocolates! Hang on; are you trying to make me fat?" "No, I just thought you might like to celebrate." "Celebrate what?" He opened the chocolates, picked one at random and popped it into her mouth. "You are officially no longer a subject of questioning." She looked at him as if he was mad; he was still grinning like a schoolboy. "Seriously... You are no-longer under arrest, no more inquisitions, no more torture..." "You have to be joking on that score..," she replied, eyeing the dilators in their sterilising fluid. "Um. You use those things?" "Three times a day." He pulled a face. "Um, no, I don't want to know." She smiled a sweet, superior smile, reminiscent of her smile at the dinner table, which made him smile again. The feminine companionship she had been given over the previous week seemed to have returned some of the spirit that he felt she had, which meant that she would be far too spirited for Cortez to sell to a brothel. She might even agree to stay with him. "What are you thinking?" she asked. "Oh just wondering if you would be my special lady?" She answered without thinking "Why Paulo, I'd love to...." It was only the second time she had used his first name and he liked the sound of it. "What about the rest?" "Four months minimum before I can stop the dilating. And then only if I have regular sex," she had spoken so crudely deliberately and watched for his reaction. She had already had the pep talk from Juanita Sanchez- Montoya, and that had provoked its own reaction from her. "Really? Looking forward to it?" The smile left her face and fear tinged her eyes. "No!" He cupped her chin in his right hand and gently squeezed her hand with his left. "Chin up, stiff upper lip, where's your British spine?" "I think you are mistaking me for some man?" she said, the animation in her eyes vanishing along with the earlier retreating smile. "There is no part of you that is unchanged, Ray is gone. You are most definitely a very desirable woman." The comment about her desirability making her very uncomfortable, even though she knew, intellectually, that he was right, she was attractive, desirable, feminine, everything that Ray had not been. But she hadn't admitted, not even to herself in the privacy of her thoughts, that she was already deeply in love with this man and very sexually attracted to him. She pulled her hand out of his and pressed the knuckles into her chin. "Why are you doing this?" Rodriguez asked, his patience worn thin. "Even Juanita Maria is experimenting with Carlos." Rachel remembered the delighted look on Alvarez's face when she announced that she had a boyfriend, Carlos Ortega. She had been breathless with excitement and her voice had trembled with barely contained pleasure. Rachel had smiled and wished her luck, quietly locking away the feeling of impending doom that the simple announcement had triggered. "You have a wonderful future as a woman. Now that Ray is gone." Rodriguez was wrong! They were all wrong, Ray did still remain, and he was reminding her of the huge fly in the ointment of her future; Gunnery Sergeant Peter Jefferson Seymour, U.S. Marine Corps. (Rtd.), His, or should it be her, father! The tears started without conscious thought. "Madre Dios. What's wrong? Don't cry... I'm not that annoyed..." "It's not you..." Rachel sobbed. "It's Pop." "Pop?" "Ray's father, I mean my father ... The man who moulded Ray into the man he was, the man who had such high hopes of his 'little man'. How's he going to react to me? I wish I were dead!" she turned away from him and curled up in a ball, the tears flowing freely. Rodriguez looked at her in astonishment, totally stumped. He couldn't think of anything to say or do. When he tried to hold her she squirmed away. Angered by his frustration, he left the room and stalked along to the control room, which was deserted. In a fit of frustration, he kicked his chair across the room. ***** Rachel slowly recovered her composure and uncurled on the bed. She was still tearful, but regaining control. 'Why are you worrying about Pop?' She thought, 'He thinks you're dead anyway, unless Johan or Gary has persuaded him otherwise. Perhaps it would be better for him to continue to think that?' She looked across the room at the clothes laid out on the armchair; bra, panties, petticoat, blouse and skirt, not exactly what 'Pop' would expect his son to wear; he had made that clear after 'Midsummer Night's Dream' hit the newspapers. 'Okay.' She sat up and looked around the room. "Time to re-assess," she slipped from the bed, sliding her feet into the mid-heeled mule-slippers and made her way cautiously to the pile of clothes. As she dressed she thought about her position. 'Paulo said I am no longer a prisoner, but will probably not be set lose. Heinmann has distinct plans for her and Cortez saw her as a whore. Fourth option try to adapt and hope for a normal life, fifth get shot.' She sat down, gingerly, and tried to relax. "Of course there is always option six," she mused half-aloud. "Get myself fit and finish what I started." She looked at the carriage clock that had appeared on the dresser since the surgery, one-thirty, nearly lunchtime. She wondered who her companion might be for lunch today. It was probably supposed to have been Rodriguez. She sighed and wandered over to the dining table, idly; she moved the cutlery with her nails. She sat down at the table, waiting, her nerves on edge. It was un- nerving to be so out of control of her life. Although she was supposedly 'free', there were still guards on the doors. Besides which, she didn't want to leave the security of the Presidential area. All the medical services were close-by, and a gym, if the doctor would let her use it. More importantly, leaving the bunker would mean re-entering the outside world and she wasn't ready for that, not by a long way! She wandered over to the door. One of the guards turned to her and smiled. "Que quiere usted" He asked. "Have you seen Colonel Rodriguez?" "He busy elsewhere." "Gracias." "De nada." It came as a bitter pill when Rachel realised that the guards were not only there to keep her in, but to keep others out, even if she did realise that she wasn't fit enough to tackle anything, except lunch, when it arrived. Even as the thought entered her head, so an orderly entered with two plates of food covered with steel hemispheres. He placed the plates on the table and left. Rachel lifted the lid on her plate to reveal a salad with two boiled eggs. With a sigh she put the lid back, planning to wait for Paulo. When he arrived some ten minutes later, he had changed from his uniform into casual civilian clothes of a check shirt and slacks. "Off duty?" she asked. "Yes." "That must be a first. I didn't think policemen were ever off duty? Or soldiers for that matter" "We occasionally are given leave..." he replied, a touch of mirth lighting up his eyes. "How about you? Have you got over your earlier problem?" "Not exactly. But I seem a little more patient now. I always knew that there would be things I couldn't alter, I thought my being a man was one of them..." "I for one am glad you are not a man." "Can we change the subject?" "Yes, Johan Kepler. You said he had a prosthetic leg?" "Yes, his left leg. From just above the knee." "Hummm." "I suppose, as I'm no longer a prisoner I can leave this place?" "Not yet. Juanita and Cortez want you to be fit before you leave." "Each for different reasons I've no doubt." Rodriguez didn't reply immediately but when he did, he followed the Eliza Doolittle rules, by talking about the weather and his health. "I'm fine now, it's just that I'm still not used to the 'feel' down there," she said pointing downwards. "Juanita said there would be some phantom pains and 'feelings'," he agreed. 'Save me from the phantom 'feelings',' she thought. But that virtually ended lunch for the day and Rodriguez left to return to his duties while Rachel waited for Juanita to come and examine her, so that she could ask about exercise. To her delight, Juanita approved, but then she added a large number of other lessons and exercises as well... Rachel prepared for sleep that night thinking about how the routine would change. ***** Cortez sent a messenger to Heinmann, rather than humiliate himself, giving him permission to visit the bunker and look in on Barker. The messenger delivered the message immediately, along with the authorisation for the guards to withdraw. Heinmann gathered together his coat and ordered a car immediately, despite the late hour. ***** Sir Paul Reeves was just about to go up to the residential part of the Embassy when Jesus Martinez barrelled his way into the office, followed by two embassy guards with their Webley's drawn. "It's alright Gentlemen, Mr Martinez is a friend." The two guards left and Jesus dropped into the chair by the desk. "Where's the fire?" Reeves asked. "What, Oh. It's Lieutenant Flanders Sir; he's gone off the reservation." "He's what?" "He's gone off the reservation sir. He's not where he should be, most of his climbing equipment is gone, his K-Bar, Glock and his spare piece. He's also taken that sketch we made of the water intakes for the bunker." "He's not stupid enough? Bloody Hell. How did that man get to be a lieutenant?" "Getting busted from Captain for insubordination Sir." "You mean he's done this before? This is too high a price for a special relationship." "Hey, I'm still here." "You were the one I'd pegged for doing something like this." "Me Sir? Oh no. I rant and rave, off the job. Or when we're waiting, but you can't do that on ops. But if there is a way in, Gary will find it. I just hope Captain Barker is there when he gets in." 22. Confronted The past is what you remember, imagine you remember, convince yourself you remember, or pretend you remember. Harold Pinter-Quotes ***** At that moment Rachel had risen to answer natures' call. As she cautiously returned to her bed in the dark, a strong arm swung tightly around her neck and she could feel the touch of a razor-sharp commando blade at her throat. "Not a sound," growled the familiar American voice in her right ear. His breath making her earring move he was so close. Any other time and it would have been a most welcome sound, but at that moment all she felt was she was about to die. Although he might not recognise her, she instantly knew that he was Gary Flanders. She was at the mercy of the man who used to be assigned as the 'mission specialist, protection and elimination' on many of the missions he'd been on. He roughly and easily dragged her back into the toilet and closed the door with his foot. She was forced to sit down on the bidet and the cold ceramic surface made her shiver as it hit her bare thigh. As he moved around to face her he revealed a face caked with camouflage make-up. 'Ironic,' thought Rachel, 'he wears make-up and he is more of a man, I do and I am more of a woman.' His teeth flashed white and menacing alongside the knife that moved in front of her eyes. "Lady I don't have much time for games," he said in a threatening tone right into her face, "One false move, or one scream and you will die. Now where are they keeping Ray Barker?" Any hope that might have existed died with that question. Even as she looked into the face of the man who had eliminated one the guards at the refinery and saved Ray's life on three previous occasions. If he couldn't recognise any semblance of the old Ray Barker in her features, then she really was lost... It meant that there was only one answer she could honestly give. Mastering the pain of the words, she replied softly, "Ray Barker dead." "Don't bullshit me lady, the information I have could only have come from him," he said as he moved the knife closer to her throat. "I'm not lying, Ray is gone." A momentary look of confusion crossed the steely eyes in front of her. "Ray is gone? What do you mean Ray is gone?" The knife pressed against her smooth neck. "If you push much harder Gary, I won't be able to answer your questions," she said finding some composure despite the indent the knife was making at her throat, cold, hard logic took over. "and I know you're going to have a lot of them." If Rachel had stabbed him, he couldn't have backed away faster. "How do you know my name lady?" he hissed as he moved back onto the heels of his army boots. "Oh I know a lot more than that, like your father's name is also Gary, and your mother's name is Meredith, your codename is your home town in Iowa, your favourite breakfast is ham and eggs, easy-over." she said. "Gary I even know where you got the k-bar you had at my throat. And you are supposed to ask me something." "You could have been told the contact phrase." "Not the contact phrase, although that is 'Aren't you a little short for a storm-trouper.' And 'I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you.' No, you're supposed to ask something that only you and I know." "What's the password?" "Fruitcake." His mouth dropped, "It can't be! You were imprisoned with Ray, he told you?" He was searching for alternative explanations, but none came. "Steady Gary. You remember Heinmann? This is what that vindictive bastard had done to me. He had them work me over, tear me to shreds and put me back like this," Rachel tried to explain again but still he refused to accept what was being said. "My name used to be Ray Barker. Now I'm just Rachel." "Oh God no this is just not possible! Why the fuck would they do that to you?" Rachel looked forlornly down at the silk nightdress clinging to her curvy body. Her long mascara coated eyelashes blinked rapidly as she watched his reaction. "As you can see it's very, very possible and as for why, I would have thought that was obvious, you were there, Tripoli." She could see that the idea was freaking him out, much like the situation had freaked Ray out in the beginning. Acceptance would take time, but the whole situation was very clear, she had to get him away, before someone found him. "Look man whatever they did, they can undo so it's gonna be OK," Gary said. "I'm sure that the medicos can put it right when we get you back." "Look you crazy son of a bitch," she said opening her negligee and lifting her nightdress to reveal her tight panties showing no male bulge, the process also revealing her ample bosom. "You can take away but putting back is harder." His eyes bulged, his jaw dropped, "Oh my God." "Gary!" she hissed, "Gary pull yourself together, you're not listening. This is the way it is. As you can see, they've made a woman out of me! All the fucking way! For Christ sake I can't be a man again, ever! Get out! Get the fuck out of here now, before they find you and do the same to you." "But I'm supposed to be getting you out..." he said his mind returning to his duty like a good soldier. "Forget it mate. I can't come with you and that's that, now scram." "Ray come on, you have to go with me," he said grabbing her arm. "Don't you get it? I'm not Ray anymore, I'm Rachel and if I move out of here, I wouldn't make it. Besides they won't kill me now," she paused, adding ironically. "They have other plans for me." She was resisting his tight grip, "Now git!" "I can't just leave you here," he said. "That's just what you've got to do, I told you Ray Barker was dead, now report back and tell them that," she said as a tear welled up in her eye. "Just make sure the contacts are okay and tell Janus what you found and that was Ray is dead." "Those locals can look after themselves, I complete my missions," Gary said, firmly, sheathing the knife as he stepped purposefully forward and pulled her easily onto her feet. "I gave you an order Lieutenant," said Rachel, "now get out of here!" "Can't do that Ma'am. I take orders from Ray Barker, but you insist that he's dead, and I believe you," he said with fire in his eyes. "All I see is a US Citizen who is in danger and I can't leave her to the mercy of these assholes!" "Let me go," she said, moving her arms without any effect. "Sorry Ma'am field decision, you are obviously in grave danger here." "What are you talking about Gary?" she asked, suddenly very frightened, she was really noticing how others were controlling her life. "Just doing my job," he said as pushed her away slightly. The realisation of what he was planning dawned. "Gary I...." she said just as he struck her neck rapidly knocking her unconscious. "Maybe you ain't Ray Barker, he'd never have allowed me to do that, Ma'am," said Gary as he caught her limp, rag doll fall towards the floor. "Hups a daisy," he said to himself and he had no problem lifting Rachel's frame over his shoulder and making his way to the door. As he slipped quietly out, he went in the opposite direction to the exit; He gently lowered the unconscious Rachel against the wall and opened the first door from the tank room, picked up a rucksack. From within he slipped a silenced Glock into the front and then the Colt into the back of his trouser waistband. He then hefted Rachel back over his shoulder and made his way back down towards the exit. Walking up to the junction he checked, opened the door and unerringly turned to the right. His luck certainly seemed to be with him, no one had come out of any of the rooms, no one came through from the barracks and no-one challenged him at all. He stopped at the final door and slipped Rachel to the floor again. "Scuse me Ma'm," He drew the Glock, cocked the mechanism, looked through the window then opened the door. The four bullets crossed the guard area almost silently and both guards died, the double-double-tap taking them out instantly. He eased Rachel into the guard area and grabbed the keys from the guard. Locking the corridor door, he unlocked the communicating door and eased Rachel even further away from the bunker room. As he straightened there was a bell behind him he turned just as Heinmann made to exit the lift that was the soldier's destination. Even as Flanders raced forward, Heinmann turned around and hit the lift button. Unfortunately, he had the presence of mind to hit the alarm button as well. Immediately the lighting went to red and an ear-piercing klaxon started to blare out from above the lift entrance. Flanders emptied the Glock at the lift door and cursed as a thumping noise echoed across from the corridor entrance. Determined to succeed, Flanders picked up his prize and went to the second lift, which he thought was on the basement level, it wasn't. He lowered Rachel to the floor and then turned to face the way they had come. He jettisoned the spent mag and slipped a new one in, and pulled two grenades from the bag. The door the other side of the screen opened and five soldiers poured into the corridor, raising their weapons to the present. He pulled the pin and threw the first grenade. The lift behind him pinged and the doors began to open. The automatic in Flanders's hand barked and the soldiers began to die before they could aim. The door opening removed the support from Rachel's shoulder and she slipped sideways to the floor. A soldier tripped over her so the body shot went through his head instead. He fell heavily across her ankles, twisting one sideways. Even as a groan escaped from Rachel, so the first lift 'dinged' and Flanders turned, intent on grabbing his prize and getting away. As the door opened, so it was obvious that the lift was not an exit, it was a trap. Caught in the process of reloading, Rachel's would-be rescuer was faced with a double rank of soldiers in the lift, all guns pointing at him. Throwing himself backward to try and avoid the shots, he was struck by a full volley of fire. The flak jacket would have taken all of the shots, had he stood still, but his movement caused some of the bullets to deflect up, through the soft tissue of his throat and through his jugular. His body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, coming to a rest alongside Rachel. The blood spurted from his neck, as the cry of 'cease- fire' was given; it was then that Rachel recovered her wits, staring down as the last few faltering contractions of Gary Flanders' heart smothered her in his lifeblood. That proved that, sore throat or not, she knew how to scream and how to faint. ***** She woke up back in the bunker room with Rodriguez looking down at her with apparently real concern. He seemed to be reticent to touch her, and yet eager to console her. "Are you okay?" he asked as she blinked awake to see him staring down. "Huh? I think so what happened?" "Are you hurt? Did he touch you? What did he want? Did you get hit by any of the bullets?" asked Rodriguez without waiting for an answer "W...whoa Senor. Ease up. I... I think I'm fine. No pain, except for my neck and ankle." Rodriguez lifted her right foot and started to rub her ankle. "It's the other leg," she said and then smiled despite the strange circumstances, especially with her silk nightdress spattered in blood. "What happened?" "You were kidnapped but the attempt was thwarted by my men," he replied. "What happened to my kidnapper?" she asked unaware of what had happened. "He's dead," he replied. "And so are ten of my best men." The news brought happiness and sadness at the same time. She was glad not to be dragged across the country in her weakened condition, but then Gary was too a good man to lose. It would take some time to get used to the idea that she'd lost a good friend. Perhaps in her new condition she'd lost him anyway but this was infinitely worse. "I need to clean up," she told him but in reality she wanted to cry and not show her emotions in front of him. "Are you sure you are okay?" "Yes, I'm not a porcelain statue you know..." she replied curtly and then regretted it because he did seem genuinely concerned. "Although you all seem to think so." She stood up and with her ankle throbbing she hobbled into the bathroom. As she went she negligently removed the blood-stained nightdress and threw it in the corner. With Gary dead and his blood on her body, she didn't care whether the two guards or Rodriguez saw her curvy and very female looking body. They waited outside while she showered for what seemed like an hour. When she emerged from the room, she had one towel, securely strapped around her bust, that fell down to her knees while another was tightly wrapped around her growing hair. "Do you have a clean nightdress for me?" she demanded putting out her hands toward the guards. Rodriguez pointed to the bed, where a new, peach satin, full-length nightdress, with spaghetti straps, lying waiting for her. Even as she moved towards it, the three men dutifully and respectfully turned their backs and she suddenly felt a small thrill of control as she realised that they were affording some respect. It was heady stuff, even if it was only such a small victory. It gave her a sense of the mystique that a near naked woman has over most men, and how, under the right circumstances, it can afford her real power. She realised that it was the first real compensation she had experienced since the whole bizarre situation had started. Slipping the towel from her torso, she eased the nightdress over her head. It was long and sheer falling down to her ankles and it restricted her gait as she walked over towards the dressing table to dry her hair. As she sat there, it occurred to her that she hadn't been disturbed by Rodriguez's attentions, nor had she been shy in using her femininity. Finally, she realised she had come to terms with the truth, she was a woman, and perhaps she was learning to make full use of it. As she fluffed up her damp hair, her mind turned back to Gary and the thought that he had lost his life trying to rescue her. Rescue her from what? Herself or her captors? Then she remembered catching a glimpse of Gary, the blood squirting out of him and at that she ran back to the toilet with her hand over her mouth. She walked back from the toilet to find Rodriguez still waiting for her and his hands reassuringly fell onto her shoulders as she sat down in front of the mirror. His voice was soft and consoling as he gently stroked her shoulders and neck. Over his shoulder he told one of the soldiers to fetch Carmelita, and then he suggested that she should wait for the local girl, who would help her do her hair. "It's okay; I'm going to have to learn to do my hair sooner or later." "Make it later," Rodriguez advised, taking away the hairbrush that Rachel had started using. She felt strangely upset that he didn't trust her to do her own hair as he returned it to its place on the dressing table. A few moments later, Carmelita arrived and immediately hugged Rachel tightly. There was voluble thanking of almighty God for protecting her new girlfriend in quickly spoken local Spanish and tears stained her face. Overcome by this newfound bond, Rachel found she was also crying as the pair of them warmly embraced. Rodriguez decided to leave the women to their warmth and took the guards outside before reporting to Cortez. When he entered the room, he could see that Cortez was deep in thought. He had been studying a written report about the shooting and was walking with his hands behind his back, unhappily. Rodriguez knew that Cortez had been personally responsible for Heinmann's safety and they had come very close to losing him, a guard at the head of the lift had fired his rifle before ordered and had managed to wound Heinmann in the stomach. "Why did the Guard shoot him of all people?" Cortez asked angrily. "He thought he was an escaping prisoner," Rodriguez replied. "After all, the alarm was going." "You, my dear Colonel, are full of shit," said Cortez turning to face his subordinate. "Thank you sir," Rodriguez replied. "All in all a damned awful day. We get Heinmann shot and cover our new creation with the blood of an American that she probably knows." "If they put me against a wall you'll be there to make sure the job is done properly," said Cortez seriously. "I'll phone the president and tell him what's happened after I've been to see our guest." "She's fine," said Rodriguez who was more interested in what the General would say to the President to get out of the bind he was in. "Where did you take the American's body?" "It's in the infirmary," said Rodriguez showing him the way. "What do we do about Heinmann?" Rodriguez asked as they walked. "He's in surgery now. God help me if he dies." They reached the infirmary and examined the dead American. "Is there any capital we can make from the death of this man?" Cortez asked. "If we use this man's death against the Americans, they will 'leak' the fact that he was rescuing a UK national. To protect ourselves, we would have to reveal either that we captured, tortured and illegally sex- changed a joint US/British citizen, or admit that we have been holding a British woman, illegally, for the last six months, without notifying the British Embassy." "Wonderful, I can't even turn this to my advantage." He waved at the corpse then looked across at the operating theatre. Rodriguez noticed the glance to where they were working to remove the bullet from Heinmann... "He should survive." "He'd better, the President will be angry if he dies and someone will need to pay the price for that." "Yes I agree but it's unreasonable for you to take responsibility for the actions of a trigger happy guard," admitted Rodriguez. "What do you suggest?" "Execute the fool?" "No. They are the President's guard." "This was a sailor." "Oh, shoot him then." When Cortez arrived in the boudoir, Rachel was tear free and Carmelita was just putting the finishing touches to her new softer hairstyle. Cortez was courteous to Carmelita, but when he turned to Rachel; his eyes had a flinty look. "So you were holding out on us?" he asked. Rachel clasped her painted right hand in her left and placed them both in her lap as she swivelled on the chair to face him. "General, what can I say? If I say yes, you'll lose your temper and hit me. If I say no, you won't believe me and again you'll hit me, so why don't you just go ahead and hit me?" "You are testing my patience. But you may be correct." "There's always a first time," said Rachel defiantly; her eyes blazing through her recently mascara coated lashes. She stared straight at him. "I knew that he was in country when we started. I thought he had gone home." Cortez looked impotently at her. She wasn't laughing at him, her face was deathly serious, he hesitated for a moment and then pulled up one of the other chairs. "Tell me about your rescuer," asked Cortez. "Did you know him?" "Yes I knew him. He was a man I knew from my past. He was great guy and he left a widow and three kids." "These things happen," shrugged Cortez unapologetically. "Who was he?" "He was my partner and defender, Gary Flanders. I used to lay the explosives and he used to make sure I wasn't disturbed while I did it." "Did he realise what had happened to you?" "Not at first, he thought I was one of your women," said Rachel suddenly laughing at the notion. "Well we might arrange for that if you'd like," said Cortez joining in her mirth. "I told him about me and told him to leave me here, but no he had to be the hero and get me out," said Rachel, "and the result was that your guards killed a great guy." "According to the report you were lucky not to die too, if you hadn't been unconscious on the floor, my trigger-happy men would have killed you too," said Cortez. "I don't remember much of what happened, Gary knocked me out for the first time in my life," said Rachel. "Why did he do that?" "Because I told him that I was in no fit state to go with him," said Rachel. "That's very true and will be for some time to come. What are you doing to my patient General?" Juanita Sanchez-Montoya asked from the doorway interrupting them both "Just finding out what the American, Flanders, was doing here," explained Cortez. "Well, I'm here to examine my patient so you will have to wait, outside please," she said impatiently, using her authority as Rachel's doctor. "We will have a conference later." "Certainly. After I have reported to the President." Rodriguez voiced a long-harboured question. "Why has the President got involved in this?" "Question him Colonel? Something even I do not do beyond medical necessity." "You are free to ask him Colonel, just don't mention my name," Cortez added. "Yes, ask him, I'd like to know too," Rachel added, braving the stares. "After all, this has cost a pretty penny, why has he spent the profits on little old me?" Cortez and Rodriguez exchanged significant glances. "Well, perhaps we can find out later Gentlemen. My patient and I need some privacy please." "Take care of her Doctor; it seems we have a large investment there," Rodriguez said as he left. Rachel looked at the door and then down at her ankle while unconsciously rubbing her neck. "Pain?" "One of the guards twisted my ankle by falling on it, and I must have cricked my neck in the escape attempt. And Gary hit me to knock me out." "That has annoyed you, hasn't it?" "Being helpless annoys me. And don't say it comes with being a woman. I know plenty of women who can handle themselves." "Perhaps it is the fact that all you have done is walking exercises for six months?" Juanita suggested. "That you are six days out from major abdominal surgery doesn't help. Also you have been subjected to a regime of muscle reduction. You are thinner, you have less energy, you have reduced muscle-tone, your body has been re-sculpted and your body shape altered." "You make it sound so simple Doctor..." Rachel wasn't happy with the comments. "I must also tell you that you will not be ready to do any real exercise for at least another six weeks. Some steady walking maybe, certainly no heavy lifting, no climbing or jumping or running until everything has settled down." "What then?" "That will be down to the President. He was the person who ordered your reassignment." "Why? This is surely Heinmann's plan?" "Yes, but he has persuaded the President to allow it." "What use am I to him as a woman? What use am I to anyone as a woman?" "We will talk about that later. I want you to let me examine you now, then I am going to make sure you sleep. We will talk again later." Rachel nodded and they went into the bedroom. When Juanita left, Rachel was asleep, thanks to a sedative. ***** 23. Habeas Corpus Kill first, ask questions of the corpse later." -- G.A. Aiken, Supernatural ***** The very next morning, Rodriguez was occupied with a briefing of the Capital security detail on the day's activities. It included checking on the now abandoned premises of the four saboteurs that had sparked off his rise to replace Alvarez. All were under observation. Once that was done he attended the meeting in Cortez's office. Beside himself and General Cortez, the meeting included the General's secretary, Isabella and doctors Sanchez-Montoya, Mendez and Heinmann, in a wheelchair. The aide assigned to Heinmann waited, unobtrusively, at the back of the room. Despite his obvious pain and discomfort, the latter was insisting that it was time for Rachel and Juanita Maria to be placed in his care. Rodriguez stepped in to insist that they still needed information from Barker, and that they should keep hold of her. "Why do you need to keep them?" Heinmann questioned. "You seem to have decided that Barker can tell you nothing more and you have no use for Alvarez. I insist that I can use both women for my process and you will get Alvarez in a useful state at the end. I, of course, have the right to Barker." "What right? He performed acts of sabotage against our country which, incidentally we still have not sorted." Tired of the bickering, Juanita rose to her feet and stepped between the potential combatants to catch the General's eye. "Gentlemen. Can we get back to the subject; Rachel Barker? What steps are we going to take, if any, to ensure continuity of identity for Rachel now that she is irreversibly surgically and psychologically altered?" Juanita had an edge to her voice. "Are we going to provide her with identity papers? Are we going to hand her back to the British?" "Why bother, Rachel Barker is never going to leave here," Heinmann said, smiling. "Your emphasis on the name Herr Doctor," Rodriguez challenged. "Why?" "You have no need to know Colonel." "I don't think Rachel will be a threat to anyone at the present time, since she is still recovering from major surgery," Juanita added, her smile belied the challenge that shone in her eyes. "Yes, we need to capitalize on Barkers' current helplessness, to emphasise the submissive outlook and reinforce her femininity," Rodriguez stated. "You should allow her time to get used to the new body first Colonel," Juanita replied. "After all, she needs to be certain of her femininity now." "General?" "I have other things to arrange," Cortez said, forcefully. "So inform me of your plans this evening." Given the obvious dismissal the two native doctors and Rodriguez made their way to the door. Only Heinmann remained. "Go," Cortez repeated, his gesture failing to include Heinmann. Rodriguez threw a final angry glance at Heinmann and left, following the Generals' secretary from the room. "General. You realise that, sooner or later, you will have to give way to your Presidents' orders and hand the women over to me," Heinmann was self-assured and almost urbane as he spoke, the triumphant look on his face notwithstanding. "I shall have my final revenge upon Barker for murdering my daughter." "You intended this all along. You had no real evidence. This was a vendetta, a plot to get us to achieve your revenge for you." "Does it really matter General?" Heinmann looked compellingly at Cortez. "You have broken up the main opposition to the Government, removed a weak second in command and obtained the acclaim of your President. Bask in your glory and leave the women to me." Cortez watched as Heinmann was wheeled out of the office. His reaction was forestalled by his secretary walking past the departing torturer carrying an envelope bearing the Presidential Seal. Isabella closed the door behind Heinmann and handed the General the envelope. "That is a very evil man General," she said. "Huh. Keep your opinions to yourself. It's safer." "But General, you cannot be planning to give in to that man." "I am going to follow orders, as should you Isabella. Have Ortega provide a report on Maria Alvarez' condition, emotionally. I am assuming that you are mentioning these conferences to no-one?" "I am loyal as ever sir." "Humm." "Just a small point sir." "Yes Isabella?" "What are we going to do with Miss Alvarez? I ask only because the Alvarez estate is a cause of potential dispute, especially since the Colonel's fall from grace. People have noticed that the 'Tiger from Terra Vantree' has stopped ravaging." "You want it?" "Certainly not. I am happy to serve you sir. But with the only relative a sister and a cousin in Brazil. The area will need monitoring sir. Might I suggest Major Hernandez has proved useful, and he is unattached, so may have charms for the sister?" "An interesting proposition. I will think on it." ***** Rodriguez left the offices and went down to the briefing room. There he found Major Calavera. "What are you doing at the moment?" he asked. "Following up on the suspect devices." "I have a small task for you. You are to deliver a message to the British Embassy. Everything seems to link back to there. Tell them 'Rodriguez says Leon has been retired'. Since the people concerned all seem to be film buffs they should get that message. Exactly as I said it, 'Rodriguez says Leon has been retired'." "Is that it?" "Yes. Don't wait for a reply; it'll take a couple of minutes to get to whoever is behind things." "How will you know that the right person has got the message?" "I'll know... Have any of the devices been touched?" "No. But don't devices like this need maintenance?" "I'll ask. Just go and deliver that message." ***** Hernandez paced back and forth in Rodriguez office. He kept looking at the window almost as if he expected it to explode. He almost jumped through the ceiling when Rodriguez returned. "What's the matter with you?" Rodrigues asked. "The recent losses in the Junta," he spoke softly. "Yes, I thought we agreed that this was a side plot to Barker's sabotage." "Sir, speak softly, can we go somewhere else? I don't think this place is secure." "You