The Princess of the Desert

By Melodie Thomas

Edited by Holly Hart

Chapter 10

Thursday, May 7, 2009
Stephanie and I stayed one more night in D.C. before taking the Lear back to Tucson on Monday morning. Smith said he wanted to make sure the team in Tucson was ready for us. The case was very fragmented; nothing that we had collected to date seemed to tie together in a single story. We started with a case of human kidnapping and pornography distribution, after finding Stephanie, added in some random memories and a couple videos. We had been able to trace the videos to an abandon property outside of Tucson, in which, collected finger print evidence targeted Garcia and Whisler. Whisler turned out to be nothing more than a poor schmuck that got caught up in his own sexual fantasies and only had ties to Garcia, he had nothing to add about anything beyond Garcia. He ended up facing charges of interfering with a Federal Investigation, not much more than misdemeanor charges.

Garcia, on the other hand, did seem to have ties with someone bigger in the food chain. Once federal prosecutors convinced him that his chance of walking away was slim, Garcia had started talking. We got the hand drawn picture of someone else that we don’t know. This new player is being identified as ‘Charlie’ by both Garcia and Stephanie. Due to the fact that Garcia was found to be flayed by a dental assistant with the same brand as Stephanie, the case took on a different persona, from kidnapping to international terrorism, in one single afternoon. A group of programmable, smart bombs that could look like the girl next door, and may actually be the girl next door. The fact that whoever controlled these weapons felt threatened enough by what Garcia could have said to actually use one of them to silence him, and expose the intent of the network, indicated how badly we’d screwed up with Garcia. That action also had us wondering if some unknown timeline may be accelerating now as well.

The stories told by Ivan Vasnev seemed too far out there for me to really believe. I could not understand how a man could be made to do the things I was told about. Even more, how they could learn to do it willingly. Each time I questioned the validity of such claims I would receive smiles from Vasnevs and Smith, that went along the lines of ‘you poor, naíve, child’, as they would patiently try to give me many other examples of how all of the mind control stuff worked, and not all of it for bad. I still could not separate the mind control activity that was being discussed and what happened to Stephanie. I have seen pictures of Steven Atkins, and I can barely see Stephanie in them. If the two sets were laid side by side, and I didn’t know, there would be no way I could identify them as the same person.

Not just in her looks, her mannerisms and behaviors all showed grace, elegance and the aurora of a woman. There was no trace of male personality or attitude coming from her body at any time. Even if I could understand the mind control portion, and that Stephanie was the way she was due to it, I can’t grasp why the effort to keep her there, which the Vasnevs both say they are doing. At the same time, she has such a magical effect on me that I can’t explain. Since I kissed her for the first time the other night, that act seems to be the most natural thing to do, for both of us. The touch of her hand, the flash in her eyes, and that always present smile, just seem to melt away any concerns that I had built up since the last time I saw her. Even though I know Stephanie was not born a girl, I was in love with her, and what scared me, was I really could not tell you why.

Smith continued to work with, as he called them, his Russian counterparts on attempting to chase down the records of Ivan’s father’s notes, or any other information that could lead us to understand who else had access to those notes. Ivan seemed pretty sure that only two sets of the notes existed, one in Ivan’s sister’s possession, and the other in the national archives in Moscow. Russian authorities checked on the status of both notes and reported the ones in the national archives had been untouched for over 30 years, however, the set in Ivan Vasnev’s sister’s possession were missing. Once the revelation was made that the set of historical notes, thought to be in the sister’s possession, were actually in Ivan’s possession, the political tension in the phone call went up two or three notches. The Russians would start demanding how we knew such thing or learned such things, to which, Smith would just start laughing and mention the name of Robert Hanssen, the FBI spy caught working with the Russians, and soon everyone in the call would be laughing on how good a friend to everyone the FBI was. Much to Smith’s entertainment, I would be trying a feeble attempt and defending the un-defendable. There were still two questions the Russians agreed to looking into further, were we sure there were only two copies of the notes, and how sure were we the copy sent from Ivan’s sister had not been copied?

I called Tina to pick us up at the airport, but I did not tell her that Stephanie was coming with me. Not that I don’t trust my partner, because I do, but borrowing a page from Smith’s playbook, no point in letting people know about things too far in advance. They would find out when they needed to find out. Tina had a couple of dozen questions when she saw Stephanie get off of the plane, and during the drive back to my place Stephanie filled Tina in on the plan. Tina was no happier with what happening than I was, but Stephanie debated the facts with her all the way. I didn’t join the conversation. To be honest, I was pretty impressed with the way Steph was handling herself. For every argument that Tina came up with, Stephanie had a counter. She showed that same high level of intellect that I seen before, and a strong determination. By the end of the conversation, even Tina said she understood. Still didn’t like it, but understood. As we approached my house, even though I knew I was not suppose to, I could not help but looking around to see if I could spot the surveillance team. I didn’t.

As soon as we reached the house, I called Mike Holiday and let him know what was going on, and requested permission to pull a Heckler Koch MP5SD from the armory and keep it at my house. Even though there was suppose to be a support team in the area, I felt very under gunned with just my 10mm service pistol. Mike approved and Tuesday Tina brought the case and ammunition to my place. That afternoon, Tina, Stephanie and I went to the police firing range so I could test fire the H&K, but also I wanted to let Stephanie shoot my service weapon to make sure she could, in an emergency, defend herself if necessary. Of all of the things that Stephanie does to impress me, shooting is not one of them.

Stephanie settled into the bedroom next to mine, and seemed to take quickly to the house, and her comfort of being there. I think I was having far more difficulty with it than she was. First, I was constantly aware of anything that sounded different, always on guard, which made the first few days very nervous and even Stephanie said I was driving her crazy. Secondly, I was worried about Stephanie. Before we left D.C., I’d had a good conversation with Vivian over some of the problems that Stephanie was still experiencing, and Vivian was giving me some guidance on how to deal with them. I will admit, I was pretty worried, not only about the possible issues from outside of the house, but how to deal with the things inside.

Our relationship had taken a significant swing since we met in DC, and was entering a lot more awkward ground. We were no longer playing around the edge of mutual fascination; we were now openly a couple, though outside of the bedroom. Tina commented, when we were out at the police range, that not only did we act like a couple, but we squabbled like a couple, when I was trying to make corrections to Stephanie’s shooting technique, and those corrections were not being well accepted. I was still not sure I was totally comfortable with where our relationship was going, but I knew I was totally comfortable being with Stephanie. There were still a lot of things that I needed to figure out.

Since Smith was very clear that I was not to hide Stephanie, we wanted her to be seen, I took her to physical therapy with me on Tuesday. Besides, other than calling Tina, I was not going to leave her alone at the house. My session with the therapist went about half again as long as normal as Steph got involved, and was quizzing the therapist on exercises and work that could be done at home to help speed my recovery. As a result, I not only had one person trying to tear my arm off, I had a tag team working on it. The therapist would do something that nearly brought tears to my eyes, and then Steph would have to try again to see if they were real tears.

Around two this morning, I transitioned from sound asleep to wide awake, almost instantly, with no understanding why. I had the feeling, in the pit of my stomach, that something was wrong, but had no idea what. I laid there listening to the night, and trying to understand what woke me. The exterior alarm for the house had been set, and the remote by my bed showed everything was fine. Then I heard the sound of something sliding slowly down the wall, on the other side of my bedroom wall. As I focused on the sound, I could hear other sounds coming from the other side of the wall, which was Stephanie’s room.

Slipping from my bed, I grabbed my service weapon and eased open my bedroom door. Stephanie’s door was right next to mine, and I could see it was closed. I eased over to her door and listened through the door. I thought I could hear sounds coming from inside Steph’s room. I slowly opened the door to her room, and as I did the sound of sobbing was unmistakable. Peering into Steph’s room, I could see her bed was empty. Opening the door further, I spotted Stephanie sitting on the floor in the corner. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and was crying.

“Steph, are you alright?” I asked as I knelt beside her. She looked at me like she had just realized I was there, through large rivers of tears.

“Make him go away; he wants to hurt me again.” Stephanie pleaded with me.

“Make who go away, Steph?”

“Him!” she answered, pointing at the bed. The bed was empty, no one there.

“Sweetheart, there is no one there, just you and me.” I tried to soother her.

“But, he is right there, laughing at me, please don’t let him hurt me again!” as her sobs increased in intensity.

I half stepped over to the night stand and clicked on the lamp, bringing the room out of darkness. The look in Stephanie’s eyes was of sudden shock, as if she just realized where she was. She looked at the bed, and then looked at me, then back to the bed, then buried her face in her hands, behind her knees. I slide back over and sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and felt her shaking.

“Its, okay, Baby, its okay. There is no one here.” continuing to try to soother her. She continued to cry but started leaning into me as I held her. After a few minutes, I stood, grabbed her slippers and helped her to her feet, leading her into the living room. I had her lay on the couch and pulled a throw blanket off of the back to cover her with. She was lying with her face into the couch; she had not said a word since I turned on the light.

I returned to her room to get one of her pillows and went into her bathroom to get her robe. As soon as I turned the light on, I was stopped by the view of the bathroom counter. I had not been in that bathroom since Stephanie moved in, but the array of medication bottles sitting on that counter was staggering. I didn’t take time to look at them, as I needed to get back to Stephanie, but the number of bottles was boggling. I grabbed her robe and returned to the living room.

Stephanie had not moved from where I left her, though she had stopped crying. Getting her pillow under her head I could tell she was still shaking. Her eyes were closed and I think she was drifting back to sleep. I sat on the floor next to her for a while, stroking her hair until I could tell from her breathing she had gone to sleep. Instead of returning to bed, I sat in one of my recliners where I could watch her. I watched her for quite a while with no issues and somewhere in there I drifted off to sleep. I woke a number of hours later to find myself covered with the same blanket I had covered Stephanie with, and her sitting on the couch sipping coffee and watching me.

“Good morning,” She said, with a small smile, “do you want some coffee?”

I strained to sit up due to being a little stiff from sleeping in the chair and having my shoulder still in a sling. “Good morning, are you okay?”

“Sorry, about last night. I am fine this morning, just feeling a little bad is all.”

“Why do you feel bad, want to talk about it?”

“Do you want that coffee?” she asked, standing up.

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

Stephanie went into the kitchen and returned with a cup for me as I shook off the blankets and got the chair sat up straight.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Stephanie said, returning to the couch, “but what happened to me last night, happens once in a while. I guess you could call it dream walking, I was still in the nightmare when you turned on the light, which woke me up. Sometimes, I have waked up in different parts of the house, or even hiding in the bathtub, never remembering how I got there.”

“You told me to make him go away. Do you remember who it was?”

Stephanie nodded her head, “It is always Robert, Anne’s husband. He used to rape me every day when I was first taken. He would drag me to a bed and repeatedly rape me for days at a time. Of all of the things that I went through, it seems kind of strange that part keeps coming back to haunt me. I can never picture his face, but I know it is him. The pain and humiliation seemed so unbearable at that time.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, there was no way I could understand or even start to comprehend what she had gone through and the demons that still remained from it. All I could do was drink my coffee and be quiet.

“That was before they started using the drugs on me.” Stephanie continued, “I think it was their way of showing me that they owned me and could dominate me in any way they wanted.” Stephanie paused for a moment to sip her coffee, and then continued to look into her coffee cup as she whispered. “I am sorry, Dan. I don’t know how long it will take me to get over it, or if I ever will. I am pretty damaged goods. If you want to change your mind about being with me, I would understand.”

The sadness in her eyes was painful to me. I sat my coffee down and walked over to her, sitting beside her and pulled her into a one arm hug. I could not think of the right words to say, if the right words even existed, so I just hugged her and kissed her forehead.

We sat there for a few moments before Stephanie spoke. “Can I ask you a favor, maybe two favors?”

“Sure.” I whispered.

“First, can you make sure you are with me because you want to be with me, not because you feel sorry for me?”

‘Jesus, how do I answer that one when I am not sure I know the answer myself? This dredges up all the unanswered questions that I fight internally, what do I want, and how do I know I want it? Yes, I have a strong connection to her from the case, but is there more? I think there is more but how do I define it?’

“I will promise you that.” I responded. I hope I actually understand the difference.

Stephanie smiled, “The second one, can we have that Barbeque you offered me a number of months ago? I would like to have some people around for a day if I can. Not that I don’t want to be with you, but I would like to socialize a little, maybe feel a little more normal.”

“Yeah, I think we can do that. Since this coming Sunday is Mother’s Day, how about the following Saturday? I will make a few phone calls and see who can attend.”

Stephanie’s list of friends was pretty small, but I already knew who I would invite, and that included seeing if Brenda could drive down for an afternoon. A couple of hours later, I had set up a small gathering at my place for the following Saturday that included Brenda and Judy, Brenda’s girlfriend, Tina and her husband, and Paula. I even gave Stacy Stanton a call. She said she would love to come down if she could. Tina was already aware that Stephanie was here but I did not tell the others as I invited them, just a little operational security would make me feel better.

Saturday, May 16, 2009
I had the mixed emotions of excitement and frustration as I stood in my backyard, starting up the second smoker that would be used for today’s feast. The excitement from having the barbeque today, which is always fun for me, and Stephanie really seems to be getting into the activity. She has been making salads, snacks and helping with the meats for the last two days, almost none stop. I think I will have enough food to feed an army, The frustration comes, in tomorrow is the end of the two week period that Stephanie was to stay with me to try to draw out the watchers, and nothing has happened. I have called Smith and he has called me a couple of times throughout the past two weeks and we have been unable to get an identification for Charlie, the dental assistant, or no sign of the dreaded watchers that were supposed to be here.

It did not help my attitude that Steph was scheduled to return to living with the Vasnevs on Monday. I really enjoyed having her around and I was going to miss her. I was trying very hard not to think about that part and just focus on enjoying the day. Though we maintained separate bedrooms, and there were no visitation rights between bedrooms, we seemed to live the rest of live like a married couple. It was such a natural and comfortable feeling having her in the kitchen, helping with laundry and the thousand other chores around a house. She was a big part in my being able to get rid of the sling, as she helped me with exercises for my shoulder daily, and I have been without the sling for almost five days.

I had also spent some time on the phone with the Vasnevs, trying to understand about all the medication that Stephanie was talking. It seemed to me like a dozen or more pills and a couple of times per day. Never, knew exactly because the Vasnevs would not tell me, Doctor/patient privileged, they would say. A couple of days later I found a reason to be in Stephanie’s bathroom and noticed all of the pill bottles were now gone. I had planned to write down some of the names and do some of my own research. As I walked out of the bathroom, Stephanie threw her arms around my neck and gave me one of those mind numbing kisses that reminds a man exactly why he is a man, and tends to wake up all body parts. She pressed every inch of her body against me in a very obvious effort to find the ‘on’ switch. She found it. When our lips slowly parted, I could not help but let a small moan escape my lips and I looked into those beautiful eyes.

Stephanie smiled at me, “You have been spying on me, and stop it, please!” With that I got a quick peck to the lips and she turned and walked away. I stood there watching her walk away, knowing my next stop was going to be a cold shower.

I was snapped out of my day dream by the sound of someone tapping on glass behind me. Turning, I saw Stephanie holding up my cell phone and pointing at it through the window. I closed the lids on the smokers and re-entered the house.

“Yes, he just came in. Hang on a second.” Stephanie was saying into the cell phone. She reached the cell phone to me, “Baby, could you put this on speaker? It is Smith.”

I took the phone, activated the speaker and sat it on the table, “McNeil.” I announced.

“Dan,” Smith’s voice came out of the tinny speakers, “two things, first you are being watched …”

My eyes darted to Stephanie, who was already looking at me. As tough as she tried to be I still see the worry in her eyes.

“… second, we have an ID on Charlie.”

“Okay,” I interrupted quickly, “let’s stay with being watched. Who is watching and what do we do?” My mind was already racing on getting Stephanie out of here, taking on defensive positions, canceling the barbeque.

“First, you calm down,” Smith’s voice what rough and demanding, “you are not to do anything but having your family gathering as you had planned. There are two vans that have set up one to two blocks each side of you, early this morning. Both are using encrypted radio and satellite communications. We have been able to isolate their transmissions but are still working on the encryptions.”

“Damn it, Smith,” my voice getting fairly demanding as well, “You are talking about my family and friends here that are going to be in the lion’s den! Their safety will come first with me.”

“McNeil, if you would shut up for a moment, and let me finish, we could save some of this waltzing around and time wasting.” Smith responded with strong sarcasm in his voice.

I bit off a response when Stephanie reached over and put a finger on my lips and nodded to me. I looked at her for a moment and nodded slight in return.

“Okay, I am listening.”

“That would be a first,” Smith retorted, “but I will take your word for it. There are only two guys in each of the vans. My guys are all over them and it is pretty obvious there are just here to listen. However, I am moving the fire team into two minute range, just in case. You will be having two additional guests to your cookout today. Ryan Sloan and Randy Wilcox are both top shooters on the fire team. They are going to show up at your place around one o’clock with a couple of coolers. The coolers will not be beer, but you will invite them in as long time friends. If anything goes down, which I am not expecting, between you and Tina, along with my two shooters, puts some pretty good firepower on the inside.”

Thinking about it, as Smith was talking, two additional guys would not blow any kind of cover either. The party is going to be biased heavy on the female side with Paula and Stacy coming alone. I also liked the idea of having extra guns on the inside. “Okay, I am with you, and we can just pretend they are Paula’s and Stacy’s dates.”

“Mostly,” Smith continued, “we just want to give the watchers something to report. The more they are communicating, the better our chances of tracing the source, or, at best, breaking their encryption.” Smith paused for a moment, “The second piece of news is we have an identity on our ‘Charlie’. My Russian friends identified the picture that Garcia gave us as a Mr. Viktor Charkov.”

“Another Russian?” I asked.

“No, actually, Mr. Charkov is Bosnian and has been known to have ties to a radically Islamic faction that operates out of Bosnia and Serbia. I have an actual photograph that I will forward you via email.”

“Okay,” I injected, “do you have any idea how this Charkov is tied in with the stuff that Ivan has been telling us?”

“Yes, we do, sort of,” Smith paused. “There is a lot more information to gather but, Mr. Charkov was employed as a prison guard at the new Russian prison that was built on the site of the Yakutsk prison camp that Ivan’s father worked at. His services were terminated, about 5 years ago, after some sort of a break in at the infirmary records storage area turned unusually violent. The Russian prison board decided that Mr. Charkov did not exhibit the right amount of restraint and control necessary to be a guard at one of their facilities.”

I laughed out loud, “For some reason that just seems too ironic for me.”

“Regardless of how ironic it seems, that is what is being reported.” Smith continued, “Now, there is another pretty interesting piece of information that needs to be chased down further. Our Mr. Charkov was assigned as a guard working in the infirmary, and was on very good terms with a Russian doctor working there, a Doctor Anya Brajovic, who also left the services of the Russian prison system right around the same time.”

“I will admit these coincidences seem to be a bit much for chance, but a couple of questions,” I asked.

“Hold your questions,” Smith interrupted, “I have more. The name Anya is pronounced Anna, in English. But the most interesting part is Anya Brajovic is married to Robert Brajovic, another Bosnian. Her maiden name is Ayna Mednikov.”

“Okay, so?” I asked

“So,” Smith continued, “Ayna Mednikov is the daughter of Kira Mednikov, who is Ivan Vasnev’s sister. Anya Brajovic is Ivan’s niece.”

Sometimes, a piece of information can hit you like a bomb, and leave the mind unable to formulate a single thought. Mostly because the mind is now racing in so many different directions that it can’t complete a single thought. That information bomb just went off in my mind, and I could tell from the look in Stephanie’s eyes, she was having the same problem. Then the look in her eyes started to change from startled to frightened as I could see the questions form if the man that had almost become a father figure to her over the last months, could somehow be responsible for what happened to her.

“Smith,” I started, without taking my eyes off of Stephanie, “is Ivan involved in this?”

There was a moment pause on the phone, “My gut tells me no,” Smith finally answered, “but I am not going to let this one rest on my gut. I have a team digging through Ivan’s background for the last five years again, and I am leaving Stephanie with you, instead of sending her back for now.”

“What does Ivan say?” Stephanie asked in almost a whisper.

“To be honest, Ivan acts like he was devastated with the news. He has been trying to two hours to get his sister on the phone. He wants to know if she kept a copy of his father’s notes, when she sent the originals to him. Don’t judge him yet, Steph, he may not know anything about this.”

Stephanie slowly nodded, but I could see the moisture forming in her eyes.

“Besides,” Smith continued, “for all we know the notes came from the prison. The break was the infirmary records office, so my Russian friends will try to find out if a copy of the notes were kept there as well. We still have a lot of things to learn.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” I asked

“We keep looking and you keep Stephanie with you. I will call back with anything new I have.” Smith broke the connection.

Stephanie held eye contact with me for a long moment while I let out a long breath. “You okay?”

“Not really. Do you think the Vasnevs could be involved?”

“I don’t know, I have been surprised by bigger things, but I don’t want to believe it.”

Stephanie closed her eyes, “I’m scared, Dan. Besides you, I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

I reached over and took both of her hands, “It will be okay, it will be okay.” I had no idea what else to say.

Since, other than Tina, no one knew that Stephanie was here, she was jumping up and down, wanting to be the one that answered the front door, and surprise everyone. However, that was something I was not going to agree to, since we really had no idea who was on the other side, or even just across the street. So we reached a compromise where I would answer the door and Steph would wait in the living room for whoever was ushered in. Brenda and her girlfriend Judy were the first to arrive. Brenda and Steph embraced like long lost sisters, and I would have sworn I even saw a few tears, though both denied it. The whole concept of greeting people as they arrived went out the window at that point as well, Brenda, Judy and Steph migrated to the patio and I was left to manage the kitchen and front door.

Tina and her husband showed up next, joining the overall banter that was occurring on the patio. The problem of getting my two surprised guests integrated sort of solved itself when I saw them coming up the sidewalk, coolers in tow, being escorted by Paula. Ryan and Randy could have been bookends, both were better than six foot, two hundred pounds, and looked like they lived in a gym all their lives. Both appeared to be early to mid-40’s with salt and pepper hair. Both of them seemed to be almost as infatuated with Paula as she was with them, I was nearly not noticed as they entered the house.

My last guest arrived a little while later. Stacy and I had not gotten on well when she was assigned to the case right after Stephanie had been found. However, she had been very dedicated and close to Stephanie during those early days. I am not sure I would have invited her on my own, but Steph had requested that I do so. Stephanie had told me that regardless of the issues that had occurred early on, and maybe even the missed analysis of her needs, her closest friend during those early days had been Stacy, and Stacy had helped her through many rough periods and was always there for her.

As I answered the door, I saw Stacy looking pretty nervous on the front step. “Hi, Stacy, it is good to see you could make it.”

“Hi, Dan, well, I was surprised to get an invited, but still wondered what was going on, since we did not part on the greatest terms.”

I smiled, “No, we didn’t, but I am glad you came. Please come in.”

I led Stacy into the kitchen area where she could see the people on the patio. Stephanie was not out there. Stacy turned to me, “Dan, why did you invite me? I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I am really not part of the group out there,” nodding her head toward the window.

At that moment, Stephanie appeared in the hallway behind Stacy, as if coming back from her room. “Because I asked him to invite you, I never really got a chance to say thank you.”

Stacy spun around at the voice, and her hands went to her mouth, “Oh, my god!” Stacy exclaimed, “Stephanie?”

The two of them embraced and Stephanie led Stacy out to the patio to meet everyone while I finished the kitchen chores.

The rest of the afternoon went without incident, either from the barbeque or outside influences. Both Randy and Ryan informed me that neither had the normal ear bud radio because they would be too obvious. Instead, they both were carrying pagers and there were two others stationed throughout the neighborhood to watch for anything abnormal, which, thankfully, did not occur. I admired their professionalism throughout the day, as they easily integrated themselves as part of the party, but were constantly watching where everyone was and what was going on around them. At one point, Brenda, Stephanie and Paula wandered to the back gazebo for some private time, during which, Randy took a short walk with Tina where he could keep an eye on them, but stay out of their privacy.

Stephanie spent the afternoon with almost a constant smile on her face as she played the perfect hostess. More than once, I received strange looks from Paula, as, I think, she was trying to figure out what was going on between Steph and I, pretty much the same thing I was constantly trying to figure out. It was definitely Stephanie’s party and, from my judgment, she enjoyed every minute of it. As the afternoon started to wind down, Tina needed to get home to her kids and Stacy was driving back to Phoenix, so they bid their farewells to everyone and left. Ryan and Randy did not want things to look out of place so they took their leave around the same time, however, I would swear I saw Ryan exchange phone numbers with Paula. I was not about to ask. I wonder if he knows.

With all of the food put away, the dishes done and I finished the last of the chores, grabbed a beer and sat on the end the couch for a little quiet time of my own.. Stephanie was sitting outside with Brenda, Julie and Paula. My mind was going back over all of the things I had learned today and what the possibilities were. The chance that Ivan Vasnev could be involved was just overwhelming, however, I was having a hard time believing it. He had spent so much time with Stephanie and really seemed to be helping her, as well as gaining her trust. If he was involved, he could have easily have manipulated everything to silence her, but he was doing the opposite. How about Vivian, could she be involved as well? I didn’t trust Smith for different reasons, but now I did not know who to trust at all, nor did I know what to do about it.

Paula entering the room from the kitchen, carrying her glass of ice tea, interrupted my thoughts. “Great barbeque Dan, Thanks.” Paula said as she sat in a chair opposite me.

“You’re welcome, glad you liked it.” I responded with a slight toast of my beer.

“Stephanie seems totally different than the last time I saw her.” Paula sipped her tea, “How is she really doing?”

I thought for a few moments, “I think she is a lot better than she used to be, but a long way from past this thing. She still has a lot of trouble sleeping at night, and I can’t believe the amount of medication they seem to have her on.”

“What kind of medication?”

“Don’t know and I can’t get the Vasnev’s or Stephanie to tell me what it is. One night, during one of her nightmares, I saw all the bottles but did not take time to look at them. I tried talking to the Vasnev’s but they wouldn’t share. Next, I was going to get some of the medication names off the bottles and look them up myself, but not only have the bottles disappeared but those I can find no longer have labels on them. It bothers me that Stephanie wants to hide that from me.”

Paula thought for a moment, “Maybe she just does not want you worrying about her that much or maybe she just wants you to treat her as a normal person and not discuss any medical issues.”

“Okay, but to the point of taking the labels off of the bottles? I don’t know, but that seems a little over the top to me.”

“Perhaps,” Paula responded thoughtfully, “If you would like, I can try to talk to her and see if she will share with me.”

“I would appreciate it, Paula. There are a number of things going on that I don’t understand or don’t feel that I have all the information on, and Stephanie’s health and medical issues are a big part of them. The Vasnev’s seem to be playing matchmaker a lot between Steph and me, but they don’t seem too willing to fill me in on the ongoing issues that she may be having. That seems contradictory to me.”

“How long is she going to be staying with you?”

“At least another week.”

“Okay, I have some time on Wednesday afternoon; do you think you can drop her by my office?”

Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The last couple of days were pretty quiet, with only one call from Smith, and no real updates. Background investigation was continuing on Ivan, but nothing had been found so far. Ivan still had not been able to reach his sister on the phone, so Smith said some of his friends in Russian were going to stop by and visit Kira.

Stephanie had not called the Vasnevs since Friday, something she did every day. However, they have not tried to call her either, so it appears a mutual understanding is in place at the moment. We had just returned from my final physical therapy session when my cell phone chirped. I saw the call was from Smith so I put it on speaker.

“McNeil” I answered.

“Okay, kiddies,” Smith responded, “pack your suitcases; we are headed for a field trip.”

“Where and why?” I asked.

“Why, is because we got a trace on the messages send by your watchers, where, will be answered when you get to the airport. The Lear will be arriving in about two and half hours. Be there. Oh, and you may be gone a few days, so you may not want to take your car.” Smith broke the connection. I love the way he avoids questions.

I called Tina and asked if she could give us a ride while Steph headed to her room to start packing. Almost two hours later, Tina picked us up and we arrived at the airport just minutes before the plane was scheduled to land. We watched the Lear land, turn onto the taxiway, and stop a hundred feet from where Tina had parked. As with past pickups, the engines were not shutting down as the door opened and the stairs extended. I asked Tina to call Mike and let him know what was going on and I promised to keep her informed the best I could. Stephanie was giving Tina a hug as I saw Smith at the top of the stairs signaling us to hurry. We grabbed our bags and boarded the plane.

As we entered the plane, the cabin steward took our bags to a rear storage area, as the door closed behind us and the plane started moving. Smith was seated at one of the forward tables watching. Stephanie and I slid into seats opposite him.

“So,” Stephanie asked first, “where are we going?”

“Manila, Philippines,” Smith responded.