DISCLAIMER: This is an uber tale.

WARNING: Physical and sexual violence could be extreme at times. Expect strong language, hurt/comfort, sex between women and women and men and women, overtones of S & M, and bondage. Basically, this is a dark story and bad things happen to main characters.

FEEDBACK: p.phair@comcast.net

AT YOUR WORD

by

phair

Reese relaxed into the soft leather of the Town Car’s back seat enjoying the air conditioner’s icy caress. The midday warmth of Casa de Luce almost overwhelmed her at the airport. Reese’s body was accustomed to frozen Februarys in New England. The tropical climate, while a welcome change, was an unexpected shock to her system. Squealing brakes interrupted the pleasant ride.

"What the...," Reese slammed against the front seat and slid to the floor.

The sound of breaking glass shattered from all sides. Reese curled into a tight ball trying to avoid the jagged edges of flying glass. Sharp stabs along her arm and back pointedly detailed her limited success. With her ears still ringing, the terrified young woman heard the shouts and then screams of her driver as he was dragged from the car.

"Oh, shit," Reese gasped as rough hands pulled her out next.

She was tossed onto the scorching pavement in the suffocating heat. A boot slammed into her back when she tried to rise. The pressure between her shoulder blades was unbearable but Reese forced herself to remain still; to stay calm. In the distance, she could hear the pitiful wail of her driver. She did not need to understand his language to know he was begging for his life.

"Get up," the boot on her back was removed.

Reese scrambled to obey. She dared to open her eyes for the first time since landing on the floor of the Town Car. A tall, dark woman stood in front of her wearing the jungle green uniform of the rebel army as did the other twenty figures standing around her.

"I’m an American arbitrator...," a backhanded slap knocked Reese off her feet.

"You don’t talk. You just listen and follow orders. Now, get up," the woman’s English carried the light accent of a second language learned while still young but not in early childhood.

Reese managed to push back her fear and find her feet. The slap left her jaw throbbing and head spinning. Over the rebel’s shoulder, she could see her driver was doing no better. Five or six rebel soldiers with drawn weapons were taunting him as he knelt in the middle of the road pleading. A short, dirty man, who seemed to be in charge of that group, was laughing at the driver’s plight.

"Please," Reese flinched when anger flashed in the remote blue eyes before her but she pressed on quickly when the expected blow was not delivered, "the driver doesn’t even work for the company. Let him go. He’s got a family, little kids, a wife, a dog...,"

Reese’s plea was in vain. A shot rang out and the driver’s body fell over. He was dead before what was left of his head hit the ground. The stillness that immediately followed was broken by sobbing; hysterical sobbing. Reese heard the cries first and then realized it was her. The same rough hands that pulled her from the car were now holding her as she struggled to get to a man who no longer needed her help.

"Joe, Joe, God, Joe! Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead," a rifle butt connected with her cheek taking the fight and her knees out from under her.

"Reese Sargent, you are under arrest for conspiracy to overthrow the will of the people of Casa de Luce. Your company will be given a chance to arrange ‘bail’ for your freedom. Should they decline, you will be tried for all your company’s crimes against our country and people," the rebel’s eyes were mere slits as she spoke to the barely conscious young woman hanging limply in the arms of her captors. "Do you understand?"

Reese did not answer. The dark woman pulled Reese’s head up by her blonde hair. A deep bruise was forming over her cheek and her lip was split. The rebel softened her hold slightly when confronted with the damage she had caused the foreigner.

"For your own safety, answer ‘yes’ to my question," the words were almost whispered but Reese nodded. "Do you understand what I told you of your arrest?"

"Yes," the hushed response was accepted.

"If you give me your word that you will not try to escape then I will not bind you."

"You promise," Reese shuddered at the stifling thought of restraints.

"You have my word," the dark rebel smiled but it held no warmth.

"And you have mine," Reese straightened and was released to stand, swaying, but under her own power.

The dirty, little man who shot the driver approached. He spoke haltingly in the native tongue of the rebels with a sly grin as he winked at Reese. A flash of gold sparkled where his front teeth should have been. The dark woman answered harshly as she spun on him. They began to argue. Reese wished she could understand just one word of the volatile exchange. The guns of the surrounding soldiers began to click into readiness. Finally, the man gave a broad smile and a good natured punch to the woman’s shoulder. Laughter erupted from the rebel band but not the woman.

"These four soldiers will escort you. Stay in the center and keep moving," the dark woman called over her shoulder to Reese and waved the group forward.

***

Their journey into the mountainous jungle was excruciating. Heat, humidity, and ever increasing altitude combined with rough terrain, treacherous undergrowth, and assorted snakes and bugs to strain every resource Reese possessed to the breaking point. Frequent tripping from exhaustion was a given but her first fall was met with harsh rebuke by the rebels guarding her. She covered her head in a weak attempt to protect herself from their kicks. They shouted in their native creole but she had no idea what they expected of her. A regretful smirk spread across her lips when Reese remembered how melodic the amalgamation of English, Spanish, and French had seemed to her when she first heard it at the airport. The vicious kick followed by a man’s angry shouts wiped the grin away as Reese coward in pain.

"Get up," the blows ended with the velvety rich voice of the woman rebel.

Reese gritted her teeth preparing to move. A strong hand wrapped around her upper arm and helped her sit up in spite of the searing pain. The world was spinning. In front of Reese, knelt the rebel woman holding her by the arm; steadying her. Reese tried to focus the two images of the woman into one.

"Drink, just a little," the dark rebel offered a canteen.

Reese nursed the tepid, slightly metallic liquid as if it were mother’s milk. Her mouth burned when the water splashed across the numerous cuts on her lips. As she regained herself with much needed hydration, Reese watched the rebel reprimand the soldiers standing around them. A dressing down seemed remarkably similar in every language, she mused.

"We must continue," the rebel took back the canteen, "another four or five hours to our camp."

"I didn’t fall deliberately," Reese spoke as the rebel helped her stand. "I’m just more use to walking through snow than foliage."

"Then, perhaps," the dark woman looked menacing as she towered over Reese, "it would have been better if you had stayed in Boston."

Reese was stunned more by the sharp edge to the rebel’s words than the knowledge the group had about her personal life. The instant venom in the statement made the situation quite clear. Reese was hated by these strangers.

"If only you had said that to me at Logan instead of here," Reese mumbled.

The rebel barked a laugh. The other soldiers looked stunned. They seemed to be as surprised by the outburst as Reese.

"Perhaps, both our plans were somewhat ... flawed," the rebel displayed a brilliant smile. "We were foolish to think a pampered American could keep pace with us."

"Pampered?" Reese let her temper flair. "You don’t know shit about me!"

"I know you live in a nice house with running water and plenty of food. I know you are cool in the summer and warm in the winter. I know you get paid to help big companies exploit poor people from poor countries to keep the fuel flowing. So, other, lazy Americans can stay fat and happy with all their silly toys," the tall woman growled.

"I’m an independent arbitrator. My job is to sort the facts before the drilling starts. I’m here to protect your island," Reese sneered back.

"You should look at who signs your checks," it was said with the smuggest grin Reese had ever seen.

"Brilliant deduction, genius, but then, why am I here sweating instead of sipping hot cocoa in my nice, warm house. If I’m just a rubber stamp for S.A.F.E Company’s reports then why did I fly down here to Casa de Luce?" Reese saw the grin fade, "Could it be, I didn’t believe S.A.F.E’s report or your government’s report and wanted to see for myself?"

The soldiers around them were growing restless. Reese saw the gold toothed rebel leader moving closer to them with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. His holster was unsnapped. Reese suddenly realized her safety depended on easing out of a conversation she had let get away from her.

"Look," she sighed, dropping her gaze and raising her hands in surrender, "if you want me to keep up then you need to give me more water and breaks as we climb higher. The air is thinning. I need time to adjust, especially with the heat, but I can make it."

"Take the canteen," the dark woman accepted Reese’s retreat as a graceful way out of their argument. "Don’t drink all of it at once or you’ll cramp. I can’t give you much more than a few minutes rest an hour. If you get into trouble, don’t wait to fall. Call for me," the rebel swallowed as if afraid to reveal more. "My name is Bey. The men will know who you mean if you call for me."

Reese nodded understanding. It was not a huge concession on the rebel’s part but it was more than she had when they stopped. Bey walked back to the short man wiping his nose on his sleeve. He kept glancing over to Reese with a smile that boded no good. Bey seemed to be explaining something that amused him tremendously. Once she finished speaking, the short man gave the signal to start walking again. Reese sighed, slightly relieved the lecherous man would need to face away from her to move forward.

***

The rebels and their unwilling guest traveled higher onto the mountain more easily than their trek into the jungle. Reese was keeping up better which gave the soldiers fewer reasons to slap at her. The gentler pace almost lulled Reese into a false sense of security. Almost. The leader of the rebels kept staring back at Reese. His lustful gaze left no room for questions; he was a hunter and Reese was his prize. The short man began to whisper to Bey as the group approach a steep incline.

"Hold up," Bey called back to Reese.

Bey began to argue in earnest with the short man. Her voice, while controlled, had a deadly edge to it which made Reese tremble. The leader was cocky. He barely responded to Bey. Finally, he said a word that Reese understood completely, "no." Bey stormed away from the rebel band and away from Reese. The laughter from the little leader only worsened Reese’s fears. His face hardened in the next instant as he began to shout orders.

A soldier from behind Reese grabbed her by the hair. Another placed his long walking stick across her shoulders. Still another, forced her right arm over the wood. She knew he meant to tie her arms to the pole. She tried to struggle but there were too many and they were too strong. Reese was knocked to her knees.
"Bey! Help! You gave your word!" Reese shouted at the departing figure.

The leader laughed. He spoke to Reese with almost a purr in his voice. Even in a language she did not understand, Reese was sure he was taunting her the way he had taunted the driver. She would not give him the show he wanted.

"Fine, genius, walk away," Reese mumbled when Bey disappeared from view over the steep incline.

The soldiers had no trouble securing ropes around Reese’s wrists and elbows once she abandoned the fight. She was tied within moments. Kneeling in the dirt at the feet of the filthy rebel commander was galling but Reese knew she was in no position to argue. He lifted her chin to force her to look into his deep blue eyes. Reese saw no kindness in there, only desire. The leader shouted orders once again. Reese was dragged to her feet by the soldiers. They moved as a group up the same path Bey had taken.

Half dragged and half pulled, Reese finally stood at the top of the incline. Beneath, lay a rebel camp on a half mile wide plateau on the mountain. A dozen or so tents stood under cover of camouflage netting. Several huts were also assembled against trees and numerous individual sleeping bags littered the ground. Reese guessed anywhere between one hundred to one hundred and fifty rebels lived there by the sleeping arrangements spread before her.

As they made their way down the slope, a young soldier ran ahead of them calling out happily. Women, children, old men, and soldiers spilled out of their sanctuaries at his call. They made their way toward Reese as she was pulled closer to the center of their camp. Small rocks and rotting foods were lobbed at her.

"Angry mob, small bruises, rotting food; I can deal with that," Reese thought to herself as she was being paraded along for the amusement of the rebels and their families.

The soldiers stepped away laughing. None of them wanted to get in the way of the projectiles tossed at their prisoner.

"Cowards," Reese muttered.

A medium sized rock caught her square in the chest. Reese lost her breath and footing from the blow. Her fall into the mud was greeted by cheers from the crowd. She lay still, unable to get herself up, trying not to cry. Two giggling soldiers pulled her back to her feet by the pole across her back. Reese cringed looking at the faces mocking her. They pointed and jeered but, at least, they had stopped throwing things.

"o-k-do-k?" The baby faced soldier who had helped her up asked with a grin.

Reese nodded yes to the ridiculous question asked in butchered English. The soldiers lead her back to the path. Instead of moving forward, they held her there. She looked around trying to figure out what was going on. The crowd had grown quiet and seemed to be watching a lone figure approach from the camp. She was as tall as Bey but quite a bit thinner and probably in her late sixties or early seventies. The old woman was heading directly for Reese.

The old woman stopped when she stood toe to toe with Reese. Her eyes bore into Reese’s eyes as if searching for something. Reese did not flinch back from the inspection. The old woman spit into the face before her. Reese was shocked but fought not show it. She continued to meet the old woman’s accusing gaze. It was the old woman who looked away first before she headed back from where she came. Reese wondered if it was a fleeting moment of regret she saw in those eyes.

Reese and the soldiers fell in behind the old woman and continued down the path to the camp. The mob had lost their enthusiasm for taunting Reese after the old woman walked away. They quickly returned to whatever they had been doing before the foreigner’s arrival.

Unfortunately, the short rebel leader was not as easily redirected. His smile was the most revolting Reese had ever seen. It held the promise of suffering. He shouted commands to the soldiers and they raced to obey. The soldiers holding Reese moved her to a post in the center of the camp. They secured her to it by the pole binding her arms. It was going to be a painful stay if they kept her tied to the make shift cross.

"Comfortable?" The leader asked with a heavy accent and heavier sarcasm.

Reese did not answer. The leader’s smile vanished. His balled fist connected solidly with her previously abused cheek. Her head snapped back and banged against the post.

"Comfortable?" The leader’s breath was foul.

"Yes," Reese blinked against the stars floating in her vision.

The leader patted her head indulgently. He chuckled walking away, leaving her alone. Apparently, they were finished with her for now. Reese finally let her tears run free in the relative privacy of her public punishment.

***

Much to her amazement, Reese heard herself snore. Even hanging by her shoulders for hours on end in the ever chilling night air, could not prevent her from falling asleep. The soft snore broke the stillness to startle her awake.

Reese took a quick look around. The camp had settled in for the evening. Families and friends gathered near their huts or tents preparing for their evening meal. Several small fires burned for that purpose. None of the fires were close enough to warm Reese. Worse, none of the rebels paid her any attention at all.

"On my own," Reese tried to rest the muscles in her shoulders by taking her full weight on her feet.

She noticed movement coming toward her as she rolled her head to ease the tension. The figure emerged from a larger tent that stood noticeable away from the camp. Reese reassured herself the figure was too tall to be the rebel leader. The old woman was at arm’s distance before Reese was sure who it was. The bound woman flinched when the old woman’s hands raised to her face. Warm ceramic touched the wounded lips. Reese felt the welcome splash of hot soup. Greedily, she gulped down the offering. Pungent herb aromas stung tears to her eyes.

"Thank you," Reese gasped when the cup was lowered. "More, please?"

The leader’s laughter broke the moment. Reese rested her head against the wood in defeat. There would be no more soup or peace tonight. Instantly, arguing erupted between the old woman and man. They hissed at each other like angry snakes. Reese saw the barrel of the gun glint in the fire light. Without thinking, Reese kicked up to knock the gun pointed at the old woman out of the leader’s hands.

"Bitch!" His fury was immediate.

The leader slammed a fist into Reese’s unprotected belly. She gagged against losing the soup that almost cost the old woman her life. The leader screamed orders to scrambling soldiers. They untied her from the post but left her arms bound to the pole as they dragged her behind the strutting little man to whatever punishment she had earned herself.

Part 2

Reese rested her head back against the post. Her arms, still bound to the pole across her shoulders, had gone numb hours before. A noose around her neck tethered her in place. She had to stand lock kneed or she would strangle under her own weight. Her tortured feet and legs alternated between blistering pain and freezing numbness.

"So, this is what they mean by agony," she muttered between sobs.

Her punishment was worse than she could have imagined. The soldiers brought her to a dry river bed strewn with rocks, broken glass, and assorted debris. It was not until they removed her hiking boots that she had any hint of what they meant to do to her. She begged and pleaded for mercy as they dragged her up and down the jagged path. Once, twice, three times? Maybe it was on the fourth trip when her bloodied feet finally gave out, dropping her to her knees. Reese thought they might be finished with her. She was wrong. The leader shouted encouragement as the soldiers drove her forward on her knees. Her canvas pants provided little protection against the coarse terrain. Reese’s legs quickly shredded much to the leader’s amusement. When he finally signaled his soldiers to pull her over to where he stood, her legs and feet were stained a dark crimson.

"Beg," his English was accented but easily understood.

"I’m sorry," she trembled on her torn knees at his feet, "please, forgive me."

"Kiss the boot," he edged his left foot forward.

Reese shut her eyes trying to block the moment out of her mind. She buried her face in the filthy leather of the vicious man’s boot. Anything to spare herself more pain. Her groveling was only slightly successful. When the soldiers and their leader had finally finished, her limp body was dragged back to the camp and tied to the post by her neck. Reese would need to remain awake and standing on ripped feet all night.

"Not a word," the voice spoke in her ear as a hand clamped over her mouth.

Reese froze in terror. She wondered if only her death would satisfy their blood lust. The ropes tying her left arm to the pole across her shoulders were cut. A heartbeat later the ropes tying her right arm were cut. Her arms were free but hung uselessly by her sides; deadened from hours of poor circulation. The tension on the noose around her neck released as the tether was cut.

"Silence," the hand was pulled away from her mouth with that warning as the figure behind the post moved beside her.

Reese allowed the tall body next to her to shoulder some of her weight as they moved forward. Flashes of pain exploded with every foot fall but Reese kept quiet. She knew each step put her further away from the horrible post. It did not matter what she was actually getting closer to as long as she was getting away from her vertical misery. They went quickly up the path to the tent that stood away from the others. Reese was sure the person helping her was a woman but not the old woman that spat at her and then fed her soup.

The warmth of the tent was the first wave of sensation to assault Reese’s overly taxed senses as they entered. Her legs burned in sympathy with the change in climate. Every wound pulsed in rhythm with the pounding of her heart. Soft light illuminated the tent’s center but did little to detail the edges of the space. It was enough, though, to reveal Bey’s face as her savior.

"Here, lay down," Bey practically lifted Reese onto the cot in the middle of the space. "Mimi! Mimi!"

"Please, it hurts so much," Reese could keep her agony silent no longer. "I’m so sorry. Please, don’t hurt me anymore."

"Reese," Bey motioned to the old woman on the other side of the cot, "this is my grandmother. You saved her life tonight," Bey wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. "Thank you."

"She’ll forgive me for not standing?" Reese, a bit delirious, extended her hand but the old woman did not shake it.

"Mimi is a surgeon," Bey explained the lack of a response. "She’s going to treat your wounds but we don’t have any pain killers to spare," Bey reached over Reese’s chest to secure a strap which pinned the injured woman’s arms to her sides.

"Oh God, don’t tie me down again," Reese wept like a child as Bey secured her wrists to the cot with leather restraints. "Please, I’ll be good. You don’t need to punish me anymore. I’ll do anything you want, please. God help me!"

Bey took a cold, wet cloth to Reese’s face. She tried to hush the terrified woman with gentle strokes and soft words. As soon as the overt trembling eased, Mimi began her work of excising the foreign bodies from the ripped flesh of Reese’s feet and legs.

"Arrgh," Reese gasped as the scalpel’s blade made the first cut into her foot.

"Reese, look at me," Bey was inches from her face whispering. "You must be quiet. If Fig finds us treating you, he’ll stop us before we’re done. We must have time to finish."

"Fig? The man who tried to kill your grandmother?" She winced against another deep slice.

"He’s a necessary evil. A mercenary training our soldiers to fight," Bey spoke just above a whisper, "to kill if need be."

"Wait! What’ll he do to you after he finds out you helped me?" Reese’s concern for the pair rose slightly above her pain for a moment.

Bey was stunned by the stranger’s remark. Reese was obviously worried about them in spite of her own torture. Using the cold cloth, Bey bathed the grimacing face once more before answering.

"He needs us so our punishment will be limited," Reese began to protest but Bey silenced her with a strong hand on her chest, pushing her flat. "It’s true that he would have acted rashly with Mimi earlier tonight. They don’t get along at all and can’t be left alone together. But he desperately needs her medical skills and she’s only here because of me," Bey smiled, pleased with the thought. "So, he’ll give me extra guard duty or something. Nothing too terrible."

Reese had to accept the Bey’s claim. The ordeal she endured and current care being provided was taking a toll on her thinking. She could feel herself being pulled beyond the pain into the dark recesses of her mind. A place where she could hide from what she was currently unable to escape. It would leave her body completely vulnerable. She shuddered at the thought. With one last burst of strengthen, Reese snagged Bey’s thumb with her restrained hand. The larger hand closed around her own instinctively.

"Please, don’t let go," she trailed off as the grasp around her fingers tightened.

***

"Are you awake?" Bey asked the woman struggling back to consciousness.

"Wish I wasn’t," Reese coughed, squeezing the fingers still trapped between her own.

"I’ll help you sit up so you can drink something my grandmother brewed. It should take the edge off the pain," Bey released the chest strap and did most of the work repositioning an exhausted Reese.

The liquid burned all the way down Reese’s parched throat. She choked and sputtered trying not to lose her breath or the beverage. The distinctive taste hit her on the second sip.

"Whiskey?"

"Home brew," Bey chuckled. "Mimi is practical and resourceful."

Reese rested her head on Bey’s shoulder. It provided a soft, warm vantage point to view her now bandaged legs. White gauze was wrapped from just above her knees to the tip of her toes. She was relieved that Mimi chose to cut the legs off her ruined pants instead of removing them entirely.

"Looks like something out of ‘The Mummy’s Curse.’ Bey," Reese closed her eyes in defeat, "I’m not walking off this mountain anytime soon, am I?"

Bey simply shook her head no. She eased Reese back down on the cot. While Bey was tucking a blanket around the wounded woman, Reese jerked hard against the wrist restraints.

"Stop struggling. You’ll only hurt yourself," Bey placed a cool palm on the woman’s feverish cheek.

"Can’t you untie me? I mean, I’m not going anywhere?" Reese sighed.

Bey looked around the tent unsure what to do. Her grandmother lay sleeping in the far corner. There were no sounds from outside which indicated the camp was likewise sleeping. Nobody would know if she went beyond the boundaries of her repayment duty for saving Mimi. It was just up to her.

"I’m sorry, we have already risked too much. When you’re found, you must be bound as all our prisoners are bound when receiving medical care," Bey heard her own resolve cracking in her voice. "I can explain the need to tend the wounds you received for my grandmother’s indiscretion but there’s no reason for me to show you...,"

"Compassion?" Reese spat bitterly. "Kindness? Humanity? Stop me when I get to the right one."

"Not this again," Bey rolled her eyes. "Why is everything an argument with you?"

"You are joking, right? You’re not really as stupid as you sound, are you?" Reese did not care she was helpless as she taunted the rebel. "Let’s see; I come here to stop the drilling only to get kidnapped by rebels who claim they want to stop the drilling, I’m lied to," Bey winced at the word, "beaten, mocked, but I still try to save an old lady who, by the way, spit on me, and then I’m tortured by boys too dumb or young or both to know their leader is a sadist." Reese took a deep breath trying to swallow her fear, "I think that gives me something to argue about, genius."

"Finished?"

Reese turned her head away from Bey and the unanswered question. She closed her eyes tightly letting hot tears escape. She flinched in fear when her clenched fist was covered with a larger, rougher palm. Gently, Bey’s fingers worked their way to relaxing Reese’s hand.

"I promise not to let go of you while you sleep. You will be safe while you rest. I give you my word," Bey offered lamely. "It is all I can do for you."

"No, not all," Reese sighed heavily, "but it is enough for now."

***

Reese woke with a burdensome weight on her belly. It was almost unbearable as it pressed against her full bladder. Lifting herself up slightly, she was able to see Bey’s sleeping head on her stomach. Reese gave a sad smile when she realized Bey still held her hand.

"Bey, wake up," nothing. "Hey, you, genius, wakey, wakey, wakey!" Nothing. "For God’s sake! Bey!"

The rebel’s head shot up when her captive jerked every available muscle. Bey blinked several times trying to piece her memory together.

"Come on, untie me! I’ve got to pee," Reese had tears in her eyes.

Bey stood and went to a darkened corner of the tent. She rummaged for an instant. When she returned to the cot, Bey held a silver bed pan.

"Oh, no you don’t!" Reese frantically pulled on her restraints.

Bey ignored Reese’s pleading to shove her flat on her back. She undid what was left of the canvas pants and pulled them down to the woman’s hips.

"Shit!" Bey choked back her tears.

"You stinking, fucker," Reese was crying as she struggled against her restraints, "can’t even let me piss in peace."

Bey tried to steel herself to the damage done by the soldiers. She positioned the bed pan under the patient and then helped her sit up. Bey knew it would be easier to relax the sphincter in this position. She wanted very much to make the situation easier for Reese, now.

"Are you hurt very badly?" Bey wanted to sound distant but her tears had broken loose.

"Fuck you!"

"My grandmother needs to treat those bites and scratches on your thighs and...," Bey’s voice trailed off.

"Fuck your grandmother too," Reese winced at the burning pain in her most tender region.

Bey understood Reese’s anger. She also knew there was little she could do to soothe this kind of wound. It was something Reese would spend the rest of her life trying to heal.

Bey focused on the task at hand. She cleaned up the sullen Reese once the woman finished using the bed pan. After tucking the blankets snugly around the trembling body, Bey tried to hold Reese’s hand again but the fist was too tight. Bey could see Reese’s nails were digging into her own palm.

"They hurt you enough," Bey breathed as she unfastened the restraint. "Don’t beat yourself anymore," Bey kissed Reese’s freed wrist on the pulse point.

"Will you untie my other hand, please?" Reese spoke as if the words hurt.

"No," Bey’s full lips moved up to tenderly kiss Reese’s punctured palm, "this will have to do."

Part 3

Mimi tended to Reese’s injuries with the stoicism one comes to expect from medical professionals. Every wince and whimper was waited out in silent patience. Tolerated much the same as blood seeping from an open wound; a byproduct of the real, the physical damage. Once Reese regained control of her emotions, the doctor would continue until her next episode of weakness. There was no reassurance, no kind words, no eye contact, and no Bey. The moment Mimi finished gathering her equipment, the younger woman left them taking two bottles of whiskey and a fistful of items from Mimis’s bag. Reese would have preferred to have Bey stay. It would have, at least, given her a hand to squeeze when the humiliating memories crashed into her in wave after wave of despair. Laying naked on the cot with one arm tied to the frame and two ruined legs, Reese felt completely hopeless.

"Fini," Mimi announced. "Hurted?" She placed a gentle palm on Reese’s bandaged legs.

"No," Reese turned her head away unable to stop the tears.

"Hurted?" Mimi’s hand moved to Reese’s blanket covered crotch.

"No."

"Hurted?" Mimi’s voice grew soft as her hand covered Reese’s heart.

"Yes," Reese wept.

"Bey," Mimi called out.

Much to Reese’s surprise, Bey immediately entered the tent. It was as if she had been waiting just outside the flap the whole time. Mimi gave Bey quick instructions in the same professional manner she treated Reese’s wounds. When she finished speaking, Mimi turned to Reese and smiled sweetly before leaving them alone.

Bey listened intently to her grandmother but her eyes were fixed on Reese. The injured woman blushed under the intense scrutiny. Bey’s lips spread into a bright grin at the sight, warmed by the apparent innocence underlying the flush.

"My grandmother," Bey cleared her throat as she knelt next to the cot, "she says, you will heal. No permanent damage. You should be tested when you get home...,"

"If I get home," Reese corrected.

"For now," Bey ignored the taunt, "Mimi could give you a sedative. It would help you get the sleep your body needs."

"No, please, no drugs," Reese could not keep the fear from edging into her voice. "I need to be able to wake up to protect myself...," she realized just how stupid that sentence sounded only seconds after she began it.

"Reese, Fig will leave you here with us to heal," Bey stroked the furrowed, blonde brow. "I gave him two bottles of brew and some pills tonight."

"Why?" Reese questioned Bey’s motive.

"To buy you, to buy your sex," Bey made it sound so reasonable. "I convinced him you would not survive being handed around nightly."

Reese tried to swing at Bey but laying on the cot gave her little leverage. Bey easily deflected the blow and pinned down Reese’s free arm. Straddling the struggling body Bey tried to quiet the woman.

"Get off me," Reese was horrified that her life would be reduced to a series of nightly rapes and beatings. "I won’t let you."

"Ssshh," Bey hissed as she crushed Reese’s face to her chest and held her still, "I’m not gonna touch you. This’ll give you some time to heal. With your attitude, you’ll never stay out of trouble on your own."

"I suppose you expect me to be thankful?" Reese relaxed as much from Bey’s assurance as the fact that she was too exhausted to fight anymore.

"No, I’m thankful. Grateful to you for saving my grandmother. This is my repayment." Bey frowned scanning the tent, "But you can’t sleep here."

"Why not?" Reese felt her legs ache at the mere thought of moving.

"Well, this is where Mimi treats patients and," Bey smiled a wicked grin, "everybody thinks I’m bedding you. I paid a fortune for the privilege. Well, it is not romantic but my sleeping bag will have to do."

Bey stole a side glance of Reese. She hoped the foreigner would not be complete revolted but it did not seem the case at the moment. Reese had shrunk back as far as possible on the cot. Taking a moment to hide her disappointment, Bey went to her sleeping bag in the far corner of the tent and straightened it up.

Bey was surprised Reese did not try to struggle when she carried her to the sleeping bag. It was only when the woman was settled, Bey noticed the light sheen of perspiration and the tight lines formed around a quivering mouth.

"Are you in pain?"

"Just a little," it was a complete lie. Reese was in agony from the short walk across the tent.

"Do you want me to get you something for it?" Bey accepted the negative head shake as a definitive answer and stripped off her clothes.

"Oh my God," Reese gasped.

Bey was not shy about her looks but the reaction by her captive embarrassed her. Long and lean, her darkly tanned body was usually greeted with more enthusiasm by both men and women. She quickly dove under the covers to hide herself from the critical eyes.

"How many times have you been shot?" Reese pushed the blankets back to look more closely at the scars. "And your thigh! What the Hell happened there?"

"Oh, just two or three times," Bey was pleased Reese was in awe and not horrified. "My thigh got hacked with Fig’s machete. We were teaching new recruits how to cut a path through the jungle and he swung too wide...,"

"Or was he trying to kill you?"

Reese’s question raised a bad memory for Bey. She worked hard to suppress the thought the wound was deliberately inflicted. It was by luck alone a second squad of rebels returning from a raid heard her screams. If not for them, Bey was sure she would have bled to death before her green soldiers could figure out how to get her back to camp.

"You need to watch your mouth," Bey huffed as she pulled the blonde to her chest.

"What are you doing? You said, you wouldn’t touch me. This is definitely touching," Reese squirmed but could not get free of the embrace.

"I won’t touch you that way but there are appearances to worry about," Bey slung her leg over the smaller body. "Now, go to sleep. I have to be up in three hours for a double shift."

"Sorry," a tiny voice mumbled and Bey felt the stranger’s tear streak down her own breast.

***

The following morning began a routine that lulled Reese into a sense of security. Bey was gone before she woke. In her place, she left a pull over shirt, cotton shorts, a canteen of water, a banana, and a paperback book. Reese was left on her own each day while Bey did her soldier duty and Mimi treated the sick. Each night the three would change Reese’s bandages and then share a meal. Conversation was getting easier with the passing days as they grew more familiar with one another. And true to her word, Bey only held Reese as they drifted off to sleep. Once or twice, Reese would wake in the night to Bey’s murmurs and feel a slickness on her thigh but nothing more. It was all so benign, Reese could almost convince herself she was merely an injured guest of a remote village. Almost.

The fourth day started as all the others did. Reese was able to dress and eat in peace while Bey and Mimi attended their duties. Bey had made two overstuffed pillows out of grain sacks and leaves. With them, Reese could sit up to read the cheesy novel left to entertain her. She hardly noticed the coming and going of patients. Like confession, she believed a visit to the doctor should be a private matter.

Reese was well into the tenth chapter of a book about a pharmaceutical mogul when she felt a small tug on her bandaged toe. Peering over the top of the book, Reese saw a toddler of no more than two smiling up at her.

"Hey," Reese smiled back.

"O-LA!" The boy practiced his new word for the day.

"Hola," Reese practiced her new word for the day too.

"Kwen-toe," he pointed to the book in her hand.

"I don’t know," Reese shrugged unsure what the child wanted.

The boy confidently swaggered over to her side. Plopping himself down in her lap, he pointed once again to the book in her hands. His thumb was then planted firmly in his mouth.

"Kwen-thoe," he spoke around the digit.

Reese understood. He wanted a story. She was reading a book and he was tired. It was simple math for a two year old; book plus nap time equals a story in any language.

"Once upon a time," Reese looked down at the sleepy face resting against her shoulder and saw there was no communication problem. "there was a little girl named Bey...,"

"Stefan. Stefan," the young mother looked around the cot for her son now that the doctor had finished treating her. "Stefan, aqui, Stefan...," her voice caught in her throat when she saw the boy, limp, in the arms of the American.

Mimi turned at the same time. Fearing the worst, she stopped the mother’s impending scream with a gentle hand on her shoulder. The two cautiously stepped forward as if approaching a tiger. The American looked up and grinned.

"Oh, Padre!" The mother gasped.

Reese heard the tone and saw the terror in the young woman’s eyes. They were not looking at a child rocked to sleep by a baby-sitter. Mimi and the woman were staring at their enemy holding a child hostage. Reese swallowed hard knowing she had made a grave mistake taking even a moment of her captivity for granted.

"Sleeping, he’s only sleeping," she began to shift the boy in hopes he would wake up but the child slept on. "He wanted a story."

The faces did not change. They could not understand a word Reese spoke. Even if they did understand, neither would believe her at this moment. Certain the price would be terrible but having no other choice, Reese raised her hands high above her head. The young mother raced forward to snatch her son away from the stranger.

"HELP! Ayuda!" The woman’s scream found voice.

Soldiers ran into the tent. When they saw the hysterical mother and Reese with her hands in the air, they drew their weapons.

"Alto!" Mimi moved between the weapons and Reese.

Mimi’s voice and hands seemed to be trying to calm the soldiers. Her words spun out at dizzying speed. Yet, the guns remained drawn and pointed directly at Reese. Mimi turned to a younger soldier invoking Bey’s name loudly before sending him out of the tent. Reese could see the soldier in charge began to shift nervously. He seemed more willing to listen to Mimi now that Bey was on her way. He asked a question of the old woman.

"Si," Mimi’s shoulders relaxed with the word.

The soldier in charge handed Mimi something. Reese could not see from her spot on the floor what the item was until the surgeon turned around. Mimi clutched a length of thin leather in her right hand. The same kind of leather strap the soldiers had used to tie Reese to the pole.

"Please, no," Reese could barely get her breathing under control.

Mimi ignored her prisoner’s growing panic. She knelt down on cracking knees and pulled the younger woman’s wrists in front of her. Crossing them, Mimi wrapped the leather around them and savagely knotted it. Reese could not stop herself from crying out as the strap bit deeply into her skin. The soldiers laughed but Mimi just continued to secure the bindings. When she finished, she called over the young mother still cradling her drowsy boy. Mother and child knelt next to Mimi. The old woman pulled Reese’s bound hands forward until they lightly touched the boy’s foot.

"NO!" Mimi shouted inches from Reese’s face.

Without further warning, the old woman released her hold of the prisoner and viciously backhanded her. The force knock Reese over. Her vision exploded in flashes of stars and colored lights. Mimi did not give Reese a chance to clear her head. She tugged the woman up and pulled unwilling hands to touch the tiny foot again.

"NO!"

A second devastating slap was leveled. Reese felt the blood dripping down her chin from a fresh split in her lip. The whole side of her face throbbed from the abuse. Yet, it was not enough for the old woman. Bound hands were pulled towards the child again. Unable to break free, Reese clenched her fists in a futile effort to delay the inevitable.

"NO!"

The third strike thundered in her ear. She immediately slumped over. Too weak and dizzy to even try to free her arms trapped between her body and the ground. Reese remained motionless, weeping softly. Whatever was happening in the tent was beyond her ability to acknowledge or hear. She lay there humiliated, face down in the dirt; half hoping she would survive and half hoping she would die.

Bey’s voice was muffled but nearby. Scrambling feet followed her commanding tones. Strong hands grabbed Reese by the shoulders as the tent grew quiet.

"What did you think you were doing?"

"Don’t hit me, please, no more."

Reese weakly raised her hands to protect her face when Bey sat her up against the pillows. She kept her eyes down hoping the rebel would see she was beaten. She was totally defeated.

"They said, you were trying to hurt the boy."

"Yep, sure, that was the plan," Reese cowered back against the pillows. "I’ll say anything you want but please stop hitting me.

Bey winced at the cause of Reese’s surrender. The bruising developing on the fair features was particularly nasty. The woman’s eye was swelling shut. Blood and tears rolled down her cheeks at the same pace. Her lips were tattered and purpling. But, the slump in her shoulders indicated the most devastating wound was hidden far from view.

"What happened?" Bey’s voice softened.

"The boy was tired. He wanted a story," Reese flinched when Bey cut the leather binding her wrists.

"You must never touch us," Bey examined the burns from the ties. "People here believe the worst about you. To them you are...,"

"An animal," Reese whispered.

"A demon," Bey corrected. "You’re a danger that must be controlled and tamed or ...,"

"Terminated?"

"Exactly."

"Do you think that too?" Reese looked up for the first time.

"Doesn’t matter what I think."

"It does to me," Reese took Bey’s hand in her own defying the earlier direction. "Do you think I’m an animal, a demon, a danger?"

Bey felt as if her heart stopped. There was no mistaking the seductive tone in Reese’s voice. Daring to look up, knowing she would be lost, Bey saw desperate desire in the eyes searching her face.

"I think," Bey’s voice cracked, "I think you are beautiful."

"Then you should take what you paid for," Reese placed Bey’s hand between her thighs, "before they kill it."

"Sweet," Fig’s laugh interrupted the exchange.

Bey gave Reese’s hands a reassuring squeeze. She stood and casually walked over to the dirty little man.

"You are not allowed in my tent," Bey leaned down until her nose was a mere breath from his, "ever!"

"English? Ahh, you want the chica to know. O-K-fine," he grinned, "maybe she better when she wants it too? Huh," he winked as he ground his hips lewdly.

"LEAVE!"

"First," he raised his hands to slow Bey’s encroachment, "how you gonna hold her down? She ‘fraid of you but not us," he spread his arms innocently.

Bey eased back a bit. She knew Fig was there as the rebel leader and not just an annoyance. Apparently, the soldiers wanted more punishment than what Mimi had already dispensed.

"You smart," Fig smiled at the retreat. "She should be caged."

Reese’s sobs were muffled in her hands. Bey waited. There would be more if she stared long enough at the little man. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow in spite of his smug manner.

"But that’s cruel."

"Yes," Bey agreed.

"Shackles?" It was a question.

"Only when I’m out of the tent," Bey was negotiating.

"At night too," Fig’s confidence was returning.

"Only when I’m asleep."

"The mama’s and ninos will sleep soundly," his gold teeth twinkled with his success.

"Good! Now leave," Bey stepped forward and Fig fled the tent.

***

"So, where did you get these?" Reese shifted the heavy chains around her wrists, "Let me guess, a keepsake from when your grandmother stormed the Bastille?"

"Somebody’s feeling better," Bey sighed as she climbed into the sleeping bag next to Reese.

"Come on, Bey! I can’t even wiggle my toes. Are these monstrous shackles really necessary?"

It had been such a long day and now Reese seemed to want an argument. The notion of Reese rebounding from her beating would have been welcome if Bey was not so exhausted. She had left the woman, shortly after Fig’s visit, curled in a ball and crying. Sarcasm was a definite improvement but the timing could have been better.

"I promised the camp you would be restrained and I keep my word."

"Not always," it was a bitter retort.

"Mimi took them off my father’s body," Bey decided to abruptly change the subject away from her failure. "The police left him chained when they dumped his bullet riddled corpse on the front lawn."

"Oh God," Reese sunk down in the sleeping bag to face Bey. "I’m so sorry."

Bey shrugged. She had not expected her prisoner to have any sympathy for her loss. Yet, there it was. Was Reese, her unwilling bed mate, trying to ease the pain of Bey’s private Hell with a tender word? Bey could not be sure. Fig, the soldiers, and her grandmother warned her not to trust the American. They were always up to no good.

"Thank you but we should really try to get to sleep."

"Maybe you could tell me about him sometime?" Reese extended a chained hand to cup Bey’s cheek, "After all, he and I have something in common."

Bey smiled grimly as she lifted the chain links and a questioning eyebrow.

"No," Reese leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on surprised lips, "you."

"You don’t really want to do this," Bey whispered in disbelief. "Not after what you suffered today."

Reese did not answer. She merely resumed the kiss. Parting the full lips, Reese pushed her tongue into the warmth of the Bey’s mouth. Ignoring her own injuries, she force the rebel on her back. Her hands found the soft breast and worked the supple nipples to rock hard points.

"I want to," Reese broke the kiss with a pant, "touch you."

"Yeah, inside," Bey spread her legs hoping to ease the ache growing there.

"Can’t," Bey moaned in despair at the reply, "reach. Take the chains off."

Everything stopped. Bey seized the prisoner by the upper arms. She shook her so violently, Reese thought her neck would snap.

"Don’t try to play me," Bey growled.

The rebel flipped Reese out of the sleeping bag. Her already battered face connected with the ground with a sickening thud.

"You think, I don’t see what you’re doing? You think, I’m stupid! I’ll show you stupid," Bey sat on Reese’s naked ass as she pulled the woman’s elbows painfully behind her.

"No, no, not stupid," Reese felt the chain between her wrists pull hard against her bare belly when her elbows were tied tightly behind her back. "Please, don’t...,"

"Shut up, whore!" Bey’s deadly tone silenced all but the softest whimper. "I should have realized they were right about you. Now, you sleep in the dirt where you belong."

Part 4

Bey could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes to drift off into the peaceful slumber her body craved, the image of her father’s battered face flashed into her mind’s eye. She had been sitting on her grandmother’s front steps when the Nationalist Soldiers’ jeep pulled up. The laughing, uniformed men moved easily from their vehicle with the corpse between them like a sack of grain. After dropping their burden, several bent down to wipe their sticky, blood stained hands in the grass. They ignored the seven year old Bey staring blankly at the dead man and returned to the jeep. Mimi found the girl several minutes after the jeep sped away. She carried the silent girl into the relative safety of their home but the damage was already done. Bey never cried. Bey never talked about that day. However, Bey never forgot the look of pained, horror frozen on her father’s dead face.

"Jesus," Bey bolted up in a cold sweat trying to shake the terrifying image from her tortured memory.

"You okay?" The voice was weak.

"Go back to sleep," the rebel grumped.

"Sorry," was the groaned response.

Bey squinted in the darkness to see her bound prisoner still laying in the dirt. It took a moment to recognize the shallow breaths racking the petite body as a sign of distress.

"What’s wrong?"

Bey lit the lantern next to her sleeping bag. Reese’s face was pale with a hint of blue around the lips. Involuntary shudders ran the length of the naked body.

"Cold, hurts to breath, so very sorry," it was no more than a whisper.

Bey suddenly realized the constricting angle she had tied the woman’s arms in was slowly strangling off her breathing. Grabbing a knife, she rolled Reese onto her stomach. Bey cut the bindings at the elbows in one swift movement before continuing the momentum to roll Reese into the sleeping bag. It was not until the prisoner landed flat on her back that Reese let out the smallest of whimpers. Bey arranged the bandaged legs gently before sliding back under the blankets next to Reese.

"Try to take easy breaths. Don’t hyperventilate. I’m sorry," Bey hugged the woman close to warm the chilled flesh, "I let my anger confuse my judgment. I didn’t mean for you to suffer so much. But, you mustn’t try to fool me to get away, again. If you succeed in tricking me then I’ll have to hunt you down and kill you."

"Not a trick," Reese’s teeth chattered, "I wanted you. I still want you."

"Stop the lies," Bey was growing impatient.

"Believe whatever you need to. I won’t argue with you," Reese snuggled closer to the body embracing her. "Tell me why you’ve been tossing and turning all night."

"Bad dreams."

"Troubled childhood," Reese felt the woman stiffen with the question. "Bey, relax. I’m not teasing you. I really want to know. Were the dreams about your father’s death?"

"All my dreams are about that day," Bey sniffed back her tears. "My parents ran a opposition newspaper. It was fairly well respected because of our family’s good name. My Great-grandfather opened the first free hospital on the island. In fact, it remains the only free hospital on the island. My parents were outspoken critics of the Prime Minister in their editorials. One day they just didn’t come home from work. All Mimi and I could do was wait. About a month or so later my father’s body was returned but...,"

"You never found your mother," Reese finished for the grief stricken woman.

"Mimi spent a few days gathering the supplies we needed," Bey could feel the body next to her was warming up, "and we fled into the mountains. We’ve never gone back to the low lands."

"What about the others?"
"Most of them have similar stories except for Fig. We hired him to help us get attention from the government. He had been in Puerto Rico organizing locals against the US bombing practices there."

"That group ended up getting arrested and going to prison, didn’t they?"

"Would you just go to sleep, please?" Bey’s voice had a hint of despair.

The small woman fell silent. Bey could feel the shivering continued and hugged her closer. A tiny kiss was placed in the hollow of Bey’s throat in response. And then another slightly higher up toward her chin. And then another and still another after until Reese captured Bey’s full lips in a gentle press.

Reese pulled back from the kiss and waited for Bey to react. Nothing. Accepting the silence as an agreement, Reese dipped her head for another taste of Bey’s sweet lips. Much to her relief, her probing tongue was welcomed inside the warm cavern of Bey’s mouth this time. Reese slowly eased her thigh between Bey’s own. A lightening bolt of pain from her wounded legs made her gasp and break from the kiss.

"You know, you could help me out a little," Reese rested her head on Bey’s shoulder to steady herself. "It’s bad enough that you’re nine feet tall but my legs are worse than useless."

"Tell me what you want me to do," Bey ached for relief.

"We need to shift around. You go that way while I’ll try to go this way," Reese waved one hand like she was directing a jumbo jet to land. "I haven’t felt this clumsy since high school when I fell off the back seat of my mom’s station wagon."

Bey started snickering at the thought as the two struggled in the sleeping bag.

"It was terrible," Reese giggled too as she rested her cheek on Bey’s navel to rest. "I fell out from under Jake Marcolini and he came all over the upholstery. What a mess."

Bey collapsed back against the pillows laughing.

"That’ll kill the mood," she managed to get out.

"It almost got me killed. There are some stains that just don’t wash out," Reese kissed the smooth, dark skin around Bey’s belly button. "You are very beautiful, you know?"

Bey’s laughter abruptly ceased. Warm lips were sampling her skin while small hands were stroking her passion. Edging back slightly, Bey forced the kisses lower to where they would do some good. She bit her lip to keep from crying out when Reese’s tongue began to trace a path through her dark hair.

"Please," Bey clutched the blankets in desperation.

Her plea was immediately greeted with a long lick of her sex. The lapping that followed brought a light sheen of sweat to her skin. Bey trembled as much from the crisp air drying her as the fire Reese was igniting between her legs.

"More," Bey moaned unable to contain her need.

Reese’s mouth latched on to her and sucked. Small hands set a steady rhythm as they moved deeper and deeper into the rebel. Bey’s body was rocking in time with the thrusts in an effort to urge the moment on.

"Now."

She felt sharp teeth nip her and draw her in before nipping again. Bey’s orgasm cascaded over her blocking out sight, sound, and reasonable thoughts. All that existed was the blood racing from her center to fire every nerve ending in her body.

It was several minutes before Bey could focus. Her panting was becoming steadier breaths as her heart slowed to just double time. Every inch of her body basked in the surge of endorphins. Reaching down, Bey petted the head resting on her pelvis.

"Thanks."

"Anytime," Reese shifted to place her hands on Bey’s stomach.

The clink of the chains stilled Bey’s petting. The feel and weight of the metal on her skin reminder her of why Reese was really there. Bey closed her eyes trying to push the troubling thoughts away but it only helped her mind retrieve the gruesome images of her father’s brutalized body. She scrambled out from under Reese. Bey was desperate to put distance between herself and the woman. She staggered for the water jug. Bey was overwhelmed by the need to cleanse herself.

"Bey," Mimi’s soft voice broke the silence of the tent.

The naked rebel looked over at her grandmother climbing out of her own sleeping bag. Tears were streaming down the old woman’s face. It was not anger or fear or grief lingering in those deep blue eyes. Mimi was disappointed. Bey turned away; ashamed of her behavior.

"You are no better than the randy soldiers," Mimi said in their native language as she approached Bey. "Taking a prisoner! It is nothing but rape."

"She offered," Bey whirled on the old woman, "not just once but twice."

"Only to cloud your mind, girl. She is trying to get free of us," Mimi tisked like she was talking to a imbecile. "Do you really think she would be with you if you met anywhere else?"

"Is that so unbelievable? Am I that much of a freak?" Bey winced.

"Use your head, girl! What would the American want with somebody like you? A poor, uneducated, dirty dike from a third world country? She wants her freedom; not your body! You should know this can come to no good," Mimi sighed. "Her company will not negotiate. We will have to prove to them not to take us so lightly the next time."

"Are we really going to kill her?" Bey whispered.

"Fig," the old woman would not directly answer Bey’s question, "has made a good point. The woman should be caged." Mimi took Bey’s face in her hands, "Child, it will be better for you in the long run. Spare yourself any unnecessary attachments. Let this thing take its natural course."

"Will that make you happy?" Bey asked without making eye contact.

"It will make me happy to know I have not wasted the last eighteen years raising you. You have a duty to avenge your parents, your people, me," Mimi kissed first one then the other of Bey’s cheeks, "I will not let you toss away our chance at vengeance away on a fling with a foolish American."

"Could you let me...?" Bey took Mimi’s hands in her own and kissed each palm, "Could I have the day with her? I know you don’t approve but I am an adult and so is she. Give me the day and I’ll never ask for anything from you again. I promise."

"Fine," Mimi pulled her hands back and stomped to the tent flap, "I’ll go to Cousin Petra’s tent."

"Thank you. Remember Mimi, I love you, always" Bey called after the departing figure.

Reese watched the exchange nervously. Bey was obviously upset. Mimi seemed to be pushing for something. By the glances tossed her way, Reese had no doubt she was at the heart of their discussion. Bey’s full attention turned to her once the old woman exited. Reese shivered at the fury restrained in the body approaching her.

The naked woman strode purposefully across the tent. Cold, blue eyes fixed on the a foot locker several feet from the sleeping bad. In a burst of anger, Bey up ended the box dumping the contents out. They scattered around the tent. Reese cringed at the display of rage.

"Here," Bey tossed a backpack to the woman, "get dressed."

"My bag," Reese blinked in surprise and rummaged through it. "You took my carry on from the car?"

"I wanted you to have your passport when it was time to go home. So, you could leave the island quickly."

"You don’t know what it means for me to have this back. You never did believe they would kill me, did you?" Reese smiled at the blush coloring Bey’s cheeks.

"It wasn’t part of the plan," Bey scrubbed her hands roughly over her face. "Fig said taking a hostage was just to notify the government we were ready to deal. You were suppose to be home by now. Nobody was going to touch you. Lies! All lies! Everybody lied to me," Bey looked pleadingly at Reese, "everybody, except you."

"Oh Bey," Reese opened her arms as wide as the chains allowed and Bey fell into her embrace. "I love you. Remember that."

Bey shuddered at the familiar ring to the words.

"We better get dressed and on our way if we are...," Bey was interrupted by the sound of helicopters. "What the?"

Explosions rocked the tent. Bey pulled Reese under her to protect the woman from flying shrapnel. They huddled together as blast after blast landed around the camp. Once the initial volley ceased, the ringing in Bey’s ears softened enough for her to hear the screams of her people and the gun fire that chased them into the night.

"We gotta get out of here," Bey pulled Reese up into a sitting position.

"Not so quick, chica!" Fig growled from the tent flap. "She has some business here with me. I need something to negotiate with. The American will serve that purpose well."

Bey positioned herself in front of Reese. She was prepared to die protecting the American; her lover. The gun shot that followed took Bey completely by surprise. Instead of a hole in her chest, she watched the top of Fig’s head blow off. His body fell to the ground with a splat.

"Chief," a breathless American soldier raced into the tent, "we were starting to worry about you! We came as soon as we received your signal."

Bey did not move. She maintained her position facing the soldier with Reese at her back. He had his gun trained on the pair. She noticed too late his smile was for Reese.

"You should have listened to them," Reese breathed seductively in Bey’s ear. "Your grandmother and the others were right, you know. You can’t trust Americans."

Bey’s world went black with a solid blow to the back of her head.

Part 5

Bey realized with a start that she was conscious again. She figured she must have passed out during the last round of torture. If the guards had drugged her, like before, then she would have the taste of bitter apple on her tongue. The absence of the toxic residue meant her own mind shut her body down when the pain got too much. Focusing her thoughts above the growing physical agony, Bey tried to piece her memory back together.

After Reese knocked her out, Bey and ten or twelve other rebels were handed over to the Nationalist Soldiers. Somebody had seen to it that Bey had been dressed in her fatigues before she was removed from her tent. Reese, the American Soldiers, Mimi and the rest of the rebels were nowhere in sight when Bey finally roused. The small band of prisoners were marched out of the mountains and their camp burned by the delighted Nationalist Soldiers. This was the type of win they needed to crush the rebellion. The tears stinging Bey’s eyes were only partially due to the smoke.

They were walked for two days to the military prison in Carras. Bey was not surprised to be isolated from the other rebels on arrival. She was also not surprised by the torture the soldiers subjected her to daily. She was, however, confused there were no interrogations in between the endless hours of beatings, electrocutions, rapes, and near drownings. Even though her suffering amused the guards, Bey wondered why they just did not execute her. Her death was only a matter of time anyway.

"Ten, no eleven days in prison," she thought to herself.

"On your feet," a voice called from the door.

"Wa...t...r," her parched throat would not allow the whole word.

"Help her up," the soldier in charge ignored her pathetic plea.

Two soldiers roughly pulled her to her upright. When her knees threatened to buckle, they tightened their grips on her upper arms. Bey gasped as much from the pain as from a wave of dizziness at her rapid change in position. They half dragged, half walked her out of the cell. The soldiers did not take her to the "Lawyer’s Suite," as they called the torture chamber. They brought her to the back of the facility and outside to the court yard.

"Now, I die," Bey thought, squinting against the blinding midday sun.

But, instead of moving her against the bullet sprayed, bloodstained wall, the soldiers placed Bey in a jeep. The soldier in charge checked to make sure the shackles on her wrists and ankles were securely fastened. Then one soldier got in the back to guard her and the other two climbed into the front seats. The driver gunned the vehicle out of the prison gates to squeal onto an unpaved access road in a cloud of dust.

The relentless sun baking the top of her head threaten to rob Bey of her sensibility. She forced herself to stay awake as the miles slipped by on, what might very well be, the last ride of her life. Once the jeep left the road dirt road, Bey literally had to hang on as the vehicle bounced along the untamed thicket of the lowlands. When they finally spun to a stop in a nearby clearing, Bey had to close her eyes to keep from getting sick.

"End of the road, chica," the commander taunted as the soldiers pulled her from the jeep.

Bey let them drag her along in order to get a look at where they stopped. There might be some opportunity to save her life even this late in the game. Any passing chance to spare her from her father’s fate. Bey knew she would do, say, or betray everybody and anybody to keep breathing. She hated herself for wanting to live so much. But, she loathed the grisly images of death her mind plagued her with even more.

"Senor, dis da shit ya Chief orda up?" the man in charged happily called to a group of three men approaching from the north.

Bey saw the dark suited men walking to them from apparently out of nowhere. It took her several moments to realize they must have been kneeling in the waist high grass. The three seemed ill prepared for this type of meeting. Dark suits and ties with white shirts made them appear as out of place as penguins in the oppressive tropical heat. That was only until Bey caught sight of the black ear pieces and throat microphones each wore. She instantly understood they were entirely in their element because they had created the situation.

"Americans?" she panted faintly.

"Commander," the middle member of the identically buzz cut trio spoke, "you’ll find it all in there per your agreement with our home office. Please allow Jones and Jones to take our package from your associates."

The Nationalist Soldier in charge accepted a large brown envelope. He gave a toothy grin seeing the limy green of US currency. A quick nod to his compatriots got Bey tossed into the no man’s land between the six men.

"If ya wanna," the soldier offered in bastardized English, "me boys’l hold her so’s ya ca’do some damage. She’s got a really sweet hole, Joe. Almos’ don’wanna sell her. Hey, I know, we do ‘da gang bang’ like ya do. Didn’t ya sonso’bitches invent it?"

"No need for that, gentlemen," the American’s voice remained indifferent as he rejected the indecent offer. "Joneses, please deliver the package to the transport while I finish here."

The two burly men stepped forward and lifted Bey up. They waited as she got her feet under her. One cocked his head at her with a furrowed brow as if to question her stamina.

"Ready," her dry voice cracked.

With amazing restraint, the men moved her away from the gathering of soldiers. Their pace was steady and not rushed. They allowed her to take short steps due to her chains. Their behavior could be best described as professional. When three rapid gun shots rang out behind them, they allowed for Bey’s frantic stumble forward; an expected effort to get away from the sounds of death.

The middle man, the only one to speak, rejoined them on the crest of a hill. Bey could see the level field below them. An immaculately paved and painted runway spread out like an invitation. At one end waited a small plane with propellers already spinning. Now Bey could see who the Americans’ were talking to on the voice microphones.

The group effortlessly made their way to the waiting plane. Bey found it easier to move with the two dark suited Americans than the Nationalist Soldiers. Given their height and weight advantage, they were not afraid to carry the woman when necessary and that was just what they did most of the way. It seemed that before Bey could offer the slightest of whimpers of resistance at their collective strength pressing her forward, she was seated in the plane with the safety belt tightly fastened around her middle. The three suited men were positioned beside, behind, and in front of her.

"Mission Center, Recon 22 ready for return flight," the previously middle buzz cut but presently man in front spoke when the pilot gestured for take off. "Package obtained. Count is three by us and none by them."

"That is a COPY R, as in ROBERT, 2 2. Refueling at McCoy 1700 EST. You should anticipate contact upon arrival in Capital 1 by 2100 EST."

"Mission Center, is that our final touch down?" Middle man asked as the plane took wing.

"Can not confirm or deny, R 22."

"Copy Mission Center. Request permission to ‘wrap package’ in flight to McCoy."

Bey knew he meant her. The lengthy radio silence gave her a chance to test the strength of the restraints holding her.

"No give at all," she cursed to herself. "Breath, breath, breath, just keep breathing...,"

"R 2 2, permission to wrap granted from the Chief but package must be ready on delivery."

"Copy that," the middle man smiled as he pulled the leather wallet from his jacket pocket.

Bey watched as the man in front of her swiveled his chair 180 degrees to face her. He extracted a needle from the leather case he held. The man ripped her pants at the thigh before tapping the needle’s tip.

"Please, Senor," Bey weakly pleaded trying to cover the exposed skin with her bound hands. "Por favor, I’ll be good. I’ll behave."

The man ignored her entirely to plunge the needle deep into her thigh. Bey cringed with the stab. A burning wave of drugs raced from the puncture sight to infect every cell of her body. She was lost against the invasion and finally succumbed to the relentless seduction of sedation.

***

Bey’s head bounced against the hard seat back. She knew she was awake but did not really want to open her eyes to see her present mode of transport. The softer engine hum and periodic pot hole suggested she was in a truck instead of still on the plane.

"Time to wake up, Miss," the familiar voice of the middle man sounded next to her.

"Cold," she cracked her eyes open as a shudder passed through her body.

"Sorry, Miss, there aren’t any windows and frankly," he gave a gentle smile, "you stink."

Looking around, Bey saw she was seated on the back bench of a ten seat van. The sides were solid as the American had said. Her guards sat beside and in front of her. And she reeked even with the air conditioning on full blast. The stench of sweat, urine, blood, and fear hung like a cloud around them. She gagged against an overwhelming sense of nausea.

"Oh Christ!" One of the Joneses exclaimed.

"Please don’t puke!" The middle man leaned her forward just in case.

"I’m okay," she got her breath.

"Good because you are by far the smelliest, gooiest, stickiest packaged I’ve ever had to deliver. So, try not to make it worse for us or we’ll have to make it worse for you."

"You got that fucking right!" One of the Joneses remarked.

Bey weakly nodded her reply as the vehicle jerked to a stop. The Joneses almost carried her out of the van. Each held an elbow as she tried to get her legs under her. She glanced around to see they were in an underground garage.

"We’ll take it from here," a woman in scrubs leading two shrimpy looking orderlies announced from the top of a nearby stairwell.

"Joneses," the middle man spoke softly over his shoulder, "please take the package to the Autopsy Room." He then turned to the woman and her dwarfs with a raised hand, "My men will deliver the package. Maintain your positions."

As Bey was walked past him, the middle man whispered, "Good luck." She did not respond because of her mounting fear. Bey understood the word "Autopsy" and did not like the fact she was being sent prematurely to her own. If it were not for the gentle but firm hands of the Joneses then she might have tried a foolhardy escape attempt.

The Joneses ushered Bey forward to follow the incensed woman with the orderlies into a white tiled room. The highly buffed linoleum floor was dotted with several drains. Bey tensed when she saw the stainless steel slab in the middle of the room.

"Easy," one of the Joneses breathed in her ear.

"Si," her response died on her lips under the glare from the woman.

"Gentlemen, if you would be kind enough to chain the body to the far wall then you can be on your way."

"Ah, Captain, is it?"

"Major Baldwin!"

"Yeah, oh sorry, Major Baldwin, the prisoner has been very cooperative and she’s hurt too so there’s no real need...,"

"Look, Agent Idiot, I gave you an order now do it!"

"Idman, my name is Idman Jones," the man sighed, suddenly sorry he tried to help his prisoner.

The men moved Bey to the end of the room as directed. One of the Joneses knelt to fasten a chain already bolted to the floor to the shackles at Bey’s ankles. Once secured, both Joneses simply walked out slamming the door behind them.

"Cut her clothes off," Baldwin commanded the orderlies.

Bey prepared her body for a fight as the dwarfs approached. Fists balled and feet apart, Bey knew there was little she could do chained as she was but she was not ready to just stand there and let them strip her.

"Hey, hey, hey, she needs a little cooling down!" One of the dwarfs grinned.

"Hose her," the woman ordered.

Bey watched helplessly as the men retrieved a thick water hose from under the steel slab. One of the orderlies held the nozzle and the other held the neck of the hose. The woman stepped on a peddle under the table. A blast of freezing water smashed against Bey dropping her to the floor.

"Enough?" The woman shouted above the roar.

"Si," Bey whimpered as her abused body was bashed with the violent torrent.

The hose was turned off but Bey remained on the floor in a tight ball. She felt the scissors cutting her clothes away. It took only seconds to strip her bare. Laying naked, soaking wet, shivering in the air conditioning, Bey wondered why the Americans just did not kill her. The orderlies began to wash her tortured flesh. Their brushes and soap made her wounds burn and bleed. She could not stop her tears or screams.

"Hose," the woman called out.

"Oh no, please, no," her cry was too late as the water assaulted her once more.

"Okay, enough fun and games, boys. Let’s get the body on the table."

Bey was limp. The orderlies lugged her to the slab and flopped her on it with a dull thud. Her breath came in short gasps due to her pain and the cold. The woman eyeing her with vicious smile made Bey tremble even more.

"Please tell me you are going to struggle so we have to tie you down."

Bey was too afraid to trust her voice. She meekly shook her head no. Baldwin shrugged cheerlessly and pulled on a pair of heavy duty rubber gloves. She clicked on the microphone positioned over the steel slab.

"Today’s date, location wherever, performed by whoever, unidentified female victim between 20 and 30, six foot even, dark hair, blue eyes, mixed race, deceased for more than twelve hours but less than twenty four. Signs of trauma include," she stopped speaking to push Bey’s hair back from her face. The gesture was almost tender, "multiple blows to the head and face with bruising around the eyes and mouth and blood visible in ears and nose. Ligature marks around throat which may have contributed to cause of death; details to follow. Numerous small wounds including bite marks to arms, torso and legs. Too many old and new bruises to count. Imprints of teeth and bruising in peri area indicate vaginal rape," she clicked the microphone off. "Could you be a love and save me the trouble of looking, tell me if you were, indeed, raped?"

"Yes," Bey hissed with closed eyes holding back her bitter tears.

"Vaginal, anal, oral?"

"FUCKER!" Bey sat up only to be slammed with an electric jolt delivered by a cattle prod one of the dwarfs wielded.

"Stay down and answer the question, bitch," Major Baldwin giggled. "Now, did they take you by the cunt, ass, and mouth?"

"Yes," it was just a whisper.

"Which, dear, which one was plundered?" Baldwin smirked.

"All," Bey choked out and was stung with another charge.

"Say it!" Baldwin screamed. "The truth will set you free, if you let it," she just as quickly fell to a soft, mothering tone.

"They took me by the mouth, ass," Bey sobbed loudly, "and cunt."

"Just checking," Baldwin hummed merrily and turned the microphone back on. "Continuing by rolling victim on her left side." The dwarfs roughly tugged Bey as indicated. "Serious wounding from shoulders to ankles. Beginning superiorly, lash marks greater than twelve running from shoulders to mid back. Most likely inflicted by a bull whip of some sort. Buttocks bruised and bloodied in appearance. At least six visible wounds made by a thin length of inch strapping or cane. Signs of anal rape," Bey shuddered hearing the microphone click off again. "Sweetie, did they only use their dicks in there or were they creative."

"Creative," Bey squeezed her eyes tightly shut escaping the only way she could at the moment.

"Sounds painful. Tell me all about it."

"Que?" Bey did not understand the question or the joy in the woman’s voice.

"What did they use? Unless you want me to take a good long look for myself?"

"No, please," Bey almost fell off the slab in her effort to answer quickly enough. "They used their hands, ah, the whip handle, a gun...,

"Really," Baldwin sounded excited as she interrupted, "side arm or rifle."

"Pistol," Bey’s tears fell unchecked on blushing cheeks.

"Anything else?"

"Broom handle. That’s it. Honest," the microphone was clicked on again much to Bey’s relief.

"Continuing to thighs and legs. Skin discolored with old and new bruising. Heavily marked by electrical burns as are the soles of the feet. Pending toxicology reports, it is my belief victim was asphyxiated. End report."

The microphone clicked off. Bey waited for the woman to instruct her. Long moments passed with Baldwin staring at her exposed backside. The dwarfs remained patiently standing at Bey’s head and feet.

"I understand what she sees in you," the words were hushed in Bey’s ear as the woman caressed her hopelessly beaten ass. "Hurt her again and this will seem like a Sunday afternoon at the beach. I can promise you that much."

Baldwin forced Bey flat on the slab and kissed her savagely. A spiteful bite to her chapped lips drew blood and a whimper. Baldwin straightened up relishing the taste as much as the terror in Bey’s eyes.

"Chain her by the wall, boys. My play time’s up."

***

Bey cried. In fact, she cried until she puked. Then she cried some more. Her "autopsy" was worse than painful. It was humiliating. If there was any means available then Bey was quite sure she would have killed herself in the lonely hours that followed. However, she was so tightly tethered to the wall that she could not even stand up much less find away to end her life. The sound of the door opening made her cringe. Bey could not force herself to look up to see what was making the soft crushing sound of rubber on linoleum coming toward her.

"Hello Bey."

"Reese," Bey’s head snapped up at the sound of a familiar voice, "oh, God! Your legs?"

Bey tried to move forward but the chains held fast. Reese sat just out of reach in a wheelchair.

"Easy," Reese moved slightly closer but still out of Bey’s range. "The doctors think I might walk with a cane in a couple of months. You know, surgery and therapy can do a lot."

"I’m so sorry. You weren’t suppose to be hurt," Bey hung her head in shame.

"Neither were you," Reese moved close enough to put her hand on Bey’s shoulder. "Baldwin was suppose to take you with us on evac. And this whole thing..., she diverted your delivery. I’ve been looking for you for hours."

"Why?" Bey looked into Reese’s eyes and saw weeks of unshed tears. "Why would she do that? Why am I here?"

"Baldwin and I were partners. She was my backup on the mission so she’s pretty pissed you made her look bad. And," Reese sighed, "she’s also upset that my career is over."

Bey looked away as if struck. The gentle squeeze at her shoulder did nothing to ease her remorse.

"You’re here because I bought you," Bey’s ears burned with Reese’s words. "I paid a great deal for you."

"What are you saying?" Bey knew it sounded eerily familiar but could not understand the point being made.

"I couldn’t let them kill you," Reese lifted Bey’s chin with a warm hand. "I bought you have a choice. You can go to a federal prison that is twenty two stories under ground. They run a tight ship. Locked in a six by eight twenty four / seven. No tv, radio, talking, sex...,"

"Or," Bey watched Reese’s features relax into a sweet smile.

"I have a nice brown stone; two bedrooms, one and a half baths, garden. Can’t cook but there are some of the best restaurants within walking, ah, rolling distance."

"Are you sure about this?"

"No, not really but I know these last two weeks have been the loneliest of my life. Just the thought of what they were doing to you," the tears started as Reese slapped the arm of the chair, "Bey, look at what they did to you."

Bey kissed the hand cupping her chin. She was glad she was chained to the wall. It gave her excuse to revel in Reese’s touch.

"I’ll heal."

"Yep, you will," Reese wiped her tears away. "Well, have you decided what you want to do with your life yet."

"Doesn’t look like I have a much choice," Bey kissed the palm again before flashing a toothy grin. "Reese, will you take me home?"

Part 6

"New paragraph; According to all surveillance reports, the rebels of Casa de Luce have been unable to regroup since cessation of our operation on the island," Reese dictated into her hand held tape recorder. "The true identities of Mimi and Bey have not been determined and most likely will never be with any degree of accuracy. However, it is believed that Mimi fled higher into the mountains after the raid. She may be providing medical care to an indigenous tribe located near Peak 12. It would serve no purpose to pursue her at this time. Bey’s body was recovered from the Nationalist Soldiers after a brief fire fight. Please see Major Baldwin’s report for autopsy details." A knock at the door interrupted the dictation and she shut off the tape recorder, "Come in."

Bey half stepped into the room from behind the heavy oak door.

"Is it eight already?" Reese look at the clock on the fireplace mantle.

"I’m a little early. I just wanted to be sure I was dressed okay," Bey nervously approached the big oak desk separating them. "There’s still time to change into something else, if you want."

"Don’t be silly. Have a seat while I finish up. You look great, by the way" Reese smiled taking in the long, lean frame dressed in faded blue jeans and red polo shirt.

Bey nodded her thanks and sat quietly in a nearby chair. Reese shuffled a few pages on the desk before clicking on the recorder again. She did not notice Bey flinch at the sound.

"New paragraph; Plans for drilling have been indefinitely delayed due to S.AF.E Company’s alleged violation of international law with regard to Case de Luce’s sovereignty. Our legal department believes the company many not remain solvent should they fail to win a directed verdict. It should be noted here that there has never been a directed verdict in this type of preceding. New paragraph; This marks my final report for the agency. My injuries prohibit my return to active field duty. It has been a pleasure leading Team Badger. I extend my best wishes and congratulations to Major Baldwin as she assumes the role of Section Chief. Signature Level; Respectfully, Major Reese Sargent, Retired Section Chief for Team Badger."

Bey shuddered involuntarily when Reese shut off the tape recorder.

"Do you care where we eat?" Bey looked up wide eyed and trembling at Reese’s question. "You okay?"

"Yes, I mean no," Bey shook her head to start again. "I don’t care where we eat and I’m okay."

"Italian?" Reese picked up the phone and took a familiar device out of her desk drawer.

Bey accepted the machine. She unwound the cord and slipped the monitor on her middle finger. Switching it on, she position the screen to face Reese.

"Ed? How have you been?" Reese greeted the voice on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, Bey did really well this month and we’re going out. Give us a five mile radius and, ah, four hours?" Reese smiled as Bey nodded happily. "Bey, he wants you to show me the bracelet."

Bey immediately put her left sneaker on the desk and pulled up her pant leg. The two inch wide black leather strap was securely fastened at her ankle. Red digital computer code flashed uninterrupted.

"Looks fine," Reese waved for Bey to relax in the chair. "I got oxygen at ninety eight percent too. Hang on, Bey are you nervous? Your blood pressure is up a bit, 145 over 92."

"Excited," Bey offered.

"She says, she’s just excited. Yeah, we missed last month because of her behavioral violations," Bey blushed and looked away. "Do you have to do that tonight? Come on Ed, she’s worked so hard. Fine. Bey, he needs to check Detention Mode."

Bey paled. She grabbed the chair arms to prepare herself. An electric jolt surged from the bracelet. Her body jerked back from the charge. Electric pain grabbed every molecule of her being and rattled it. The shaking seemed to take forever to stop.

"You okay?" Reese had hung up the phone and rolled next to her.

"Need a minute," Bey tried to smile. "Rough."

Reese wiped her prisoner’s sweaty brow with cool cloth. Bey realized only then she had lost consciousness long enough for Reese to get to and from the bathroom unseen.

"Can we still go out?" Bey coughed and tried to straighten herself. "Is there still time?"

"Plenty of time. Just relax. I’ll get you some water."

"No, I’m ready," Bey took Reese’s hand and kissed the palm. "Please, can we go?"

Reese grinned. Leaning forward, she placed a gentle kiss on Bey’s trembling lips. She was sure Bey was still hurting but she could not deny the woman the reward she had struggled all month to earn.

"Let’s go eat!"

***

Bey walked beside Reese’s chair along the quiet, dirty city street. The heat of the blistering July day had given way to cooling evening breezes off the Atlantic. Cleansing the smell of sweat and urine from the cracking concrete of civic decay with the pure ocean salts from the birth of the earth. Closing her eyes, Bey could almost believe she was home. Stray car horns easily broke the spell.

"What’re you thinking about?"

"You," Bey winked, "us."

"After what you ate tonight, I’m amazed you can walk much less do anything for ‘us,’" Reese teased.

"Well, it’s been sixty one days."

"But who’s counting," Reese countered.

"Me," Bey answered seriously. "I miss you, Reese. When I’m locked in my room for days and days...,"

"That’s not my fault. Don’t try to lay it on me," Reese quickened her pace suddenly angry.

"I’m not. Wait. Could you let me finish?" Bey stopped in her tracks.

Reese skidded to a halt. She did not turn back but she did not roll away when Bey sprinted to catch up to her.

"All I want to say is, I ache for you," Bey wiped a stray tear away. "It’s all my own fault. I know that. I’m the one that breaks the rules and gets locked up. But, the only thing I think about is you," Bey dropped to her knees. "Reese, please let me be with you tonight. Let me show you what I think about when I’m locked away in my room."

"You know the deal," Reese could not look at the woman at her feet.

"Yes," it was sighed. "Anything just to be with you."

"Let’s go home."

***

The pair silently entered Reese’s room. Bey went straight for the aluminum suitcase issued to them on her release into Reese’s custody. The tumbling of the door lock sent a shiver down Bey’s back.

"Could we have some music?" Bey asked over her shoulder.

"Sure," Reese mumbled back as a light drum beat filled the room with tribal rhythms.

"Beautiful," Bey breathed as she turned around to face a topless Reese.

"You like the music?" Reese was fumbling with her jeans’ button and missed the dark woman’s expression.

"No, you’re beautiful," Bey knelt before Reese and finished the unzipping.

"Not anymore."

Bey eased the jeans off Reese’s hips. Her hands warmed the chilled thighs tingling the skin to goose bumps. Graceful strokes continued to the length of Reese’s legs forcing the clothing to yield; exposing the healing scars.

"So, very beautiful," Bey placed a soft kiss on the fair hair between Reese’s thighs. "Let me take you to bed."

Reese petted the head resting in her lap. She desperately wanted this moment to be real but knew what came next would change everything. It did every time they tried to have sex.

"You know how this has to happen. What the agency requires if you spend the night outside your room," Reese spoke flatly but never stopped petting the silky hair.

"I know," Bey rose and went for the suitcase while Reese got into bed. "Hey, you’re getting really good at that."

"Fall on the floor enough times," Reese grimaced at the board she used to slide from her chair into the bed, "and you learn."

"Maybe, if I keep following the rules, you won’t have to do so much by yourself," Bey offered as she striped out of her clothes.

"Now, we’re talking beautiful," Reese husked leaning back against the headboard drinking in the naked splendor of the other woman.

"Not anymore," Bey returned sadly.

Pulling a length of chain from the suitcase, Bey fastened one end around the foot board and the other around her right ankle. She next removed a pair of handcuffs from the case and secured her right wrist. Crawling up on the bed, between Reese’s legs, Bey offered out both hands. Reese snapped the left cuff locked and checked the right.

"You’re going along with this," Reese marveled. "I can’t believe it."

The agency had allowed home detention with several strict provisions. An ankle bracelet that reported location, basic biological data, and could deliver a nasty electric shock if Bey tried to bolt or became unmanageable. In the evenings, Bey was to remain locked in her cell or room as Reese called the windowless space. If, for some reason, she was to remain outside her cell in the evening then Reese was suppose to use restraints. The last time the subject came up Bey flipped out. She was shocked and locked in her cell for fifteen days. When Reese tried a second time to discuss the requirements, the same scenario played out. Three appeared to be the charm. Reese and Bey were able to discuss what the agency demanded and Bey promised to try. For thirty days, Bey did everything she was asked; from providing details of her groups operation to gardening to locking herself in at night. Bey had become the very model of a good prisoner. Her reward from the agency was a night out of the house that had become her prison. Sex would be Reese’s gift but only if Bey allowed herself to be restrained.

"I want you more than I want to be free," Bey breathed as the locks snapped in place. "Let me love you, please."

Reese guided Bey’s head down to where she needed her. An eager tongue parted her folds and stroked her desire. While her legs were still weak, Reese’s sex was unflagging in it’s lust for Bey. Having her locked in a room twenty feet away for sixty nights was Hell. But, have the rebels mouth suckling her most private space was, indeed, worth the wait.

"Harder," Reese tried to pull the teasing tongue in deeper by tugging on Bey’s hair.

"Not so fast," Bey released her hold and began kissing her way towards Reese’s mouth. "So sweet."

Reese could taste herself on the full lips that seized her own. She surrendered to the woman forcing her on her back. A small gasp of surprise escaped as Bey’s bound hands entered her.

"Where did you learn that?" Reese eyes went wide with the unexpected placement of the chain links.

"From you," Bey panted in a pink ear. "I’m gonna find away," Bey moaned under the rolling drum beat of the music, "to get out of here."

"Quiet or they’ll hear you," Reese’s hands founds Bey’s ass and invaded the hole causing the woman to drive harder into Reese.

"When I do," Bey ground out as two fingers tortured her darkness but gave her no relief, "we’ll see who stays chained to our bed."

"Oh, it’ll be you," Reese grinned knowing her orgasm was a heartbeat away. "You’re mine," she hissed as her body found it’s release, "my prisoner, you have my word."

The End

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