Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿The Courier by EC

   Chapter 1 - Flight 2298

   International Flight 2298 already was an hour late to its destination in
Frankfurt when the aircraft was rocked by a nasty band of turbulence.  The
plane dropped into a wind shear, shuddered upwards, and then dropped again.
The pilot, who already had ordered all passengers to return to their seats,
ominously ordered the fight attendants to immediately sit down as well. 
The passengers watched with increasing anxiety as the cabin crewmembers
swayed in the aisles towards the dubious safely of their landing seats.

   Again the plane shuddered upwards and dropped.  Outside, bands of thick
clouds alternated with gray sky as the aircraft banked to avoid the worst
of the storm.  The worst of the storm, however, already had begun moving
into northern Germany, which meant that a landing in Frankfurt was becoming
increasingly unlikely.

   Air travel that evening would be a mess throughout northwestern Europe,
as flights had to be diverted away from a string of cities extending from
Paris to Warsaw.  The storm showed no promise of letting up, thus forcing
controllers to make the difficult decision to land planes in airports far
away from their intended destinations.

   As alternate airports filled up, controllers decided to divert
International Flight 2298 eastward to the King Vladik International Airport
in Danubikt Moskt, the Danubian Republic's only international airport. 
Yes, that primitive airport was very far out of the way, but Flight 2298
still had enough fuel to make it, whereas many other planes competing for
landing slots did not.  So the crew and passengers, already exhausted from
a grueling flight from Panama City to Europe, now would fly an extra hour
to get to Danubikt Moskt.  Unless the weather cleared, the plane's
occupants could expect to stay well into the following day before they
could fly out.

   As the plane banked right to turn eastward, it was buffeted by still
more sickening turbulence.  The pilot announced that, regrettably, the
flight would end in the Danubian Republic, not Germany.  Not that it really
mattered.  Most of the passengers simply wanted to get on the ground and be
done with the horrible journey.  Anywhere, even Danubikt Moskt, was just
fine, as long it was out of that storm.  They could deal with getting to
Germany tomorrow, but now all that mattered was returning to solid ground.

   *****

   As the plane began its final descent into Danubian airspace, Maria Elena
Rodriguez-Torres felt waves of nausea surging through her body.  What the
young Colombian felt was not simple air sickness, but the rebellion of her
body against what she was carrying inside her stomach.  A full kilo of
cocaine, divided into grape-sized plastic packages, was the young woman's
reason for being on the flight.  Now she knew those packages, (or
"pellets", as they were called in the world of drug traffickers) were not
going to stay down much longer.  Sweat poured down the passenger's face as
she tried to keep them down.

   Por favor...  por favor...  o Dios mio...  por favor...  que llegue al
aeropuerto sin...

   It was not to be.  Maria Elena surged forward, covering her mouth as it
filled with vomit and three round grape-sized objects.  She flailed about
with her free hand while the man in the seat next to her frantically pulled
out an air sickness bag, opened it, and handed it to her.  She vomited, and
to her horror felt more pellets working their way up her esophagus in a
desperate attempt to escape through her mouth.  It seemed that not only was
her body rejecting the presence of those unnatural objects inside her, but
the pellets themselves did not want to be there either and were determined
to get out.

   Over and over Maria Elena threw up into the bag, as sweat and tears
poured down her face.  She rudely waved off the efforts of her neighbor to
comfort her as pellets passed upwards and gagged her, making her want to
throw up all that much more.  Within seconds the bag was completely full of
the contents of her stomach, which included nearly thirty bluish-gray
ovals, about a third of the cocaine that her handler had entrusted to her
for delivery to Germany.

   Panic and total despair swept over the unhappy courier, because not only
her freedom, but her very life now was in grave danger.  Maria Elena knew
that the cost of losing any of the cocaine that her handlers had entrusted
to her would be "el plomo".  She had been given 100 pellets to swallow, and
she would deliver 100 pellets to her contact in Frankfurt.  In exchange for
her efforts she would be given 1,000 Euros.  To deliver anything less than
100 pellets would cost her life, or at the very least enslavement in a
brothel to pay off her debt.

   La plata o el plomo...  as they always said.  Silver for success... 
lead for failure.

   The man sitting next to Maria Elena tried to take her air-sickness bag,
but she violently snatched it away.

   "Look, lady...  I'm just gonna give it to the attendant.  I'll get you
another bag."

   The young woman struggled with her very limited English.

   "You no take...  you no say me nothin'!"

   "You need to get rid of that...  come on now...  hand it over...  "

   "You no take me!"

   The man was bewildered, but suddenly became irritated and suspicious. 
Just what the hell was in that bag that she was so worried about?

   *****

   With intense pain sweeping through her intestines and tears rolling down
her cheeks, Maria Elena stared through the window as the plane finally
dropped through the clouds and the lights below became visible.  The
aircraft was still shaking as it was buffeted by wind, but the rain had let
up and the passengers could make out the lights of Danubikt Moskt (or
Danubikt Moskt in English) the capitol of the Danubian Republic, as their
flight made its final approach.

   The pilots took a deep breath as they lined up their huge aircraft to a
runway that was not designed for such a large plane.  This airport was
something else...  not set up at all for night landings, a short runway, no
decent radar system, no adequate lighting, and no modern gates.  However,
the Danubian Army was doing what it could to help diverted planes make safe
landings; two rows of Danubian soldiers were waving flares and shining
spotlights onto the runway in a feeble attempt to direct incoming flights
to the ground and the terminal.  The plane hit the ground with a violent
jolt as the pilot immediately hit the reverse thrusters to avoid
overshooting the runway.  As soon as the plane slowed sufficiently a
military jeep moved in front of the aircraft, with a soldier in the back
wildly waving a flashlight to get the pilot to take his plane off the
runway.  The soldiers' haste was justified, because other diverted flights
were circling Danubikt Moskt waiting to land, some of which were about to
run out of fuel.  The moment Flight 2298 turned off the main runway,
another jumbo jet roared past and another flight was safely on the ground.

   Led by its military escort, Flight 2298 approached the small terminal
building and a stopped next to multitude of other planes that were parked
very close together.  Torrents of rain poured down and gusts continued to
shake the aircraft, but now the danger of crashing was past.  As the pilot
cut the engines, yet another flight roared in...  yet another safe landing
in this woefully small airport.

   The moment the engines were turned off, airport workers rolled two
staircases to the front and back of the plane.  As the doors opened the
pilot announced that everyone was ordered to get off immediately.  To
highlight that point, Danubian police officers climbed into the plane and
started yelling at the passengers to get out.  No, there would be no
leisurely checking to see if everyone had everything, and if anyone was
caught struggling with a large bag and holding up other passengers a cop
yelled: "You no take!  You now move-move!"

   The scene outside was surreal to anyone accustomed only to modern
airports.  As the rain continued to pour down on them, two lines of
stranded travelers descended the staircases into darkness and ran between
parked planes towards a large military hanger.  Another hanger already was
full to capacity and Danubian soldiers were erecting tents, presumably in
anticipation of receiving yet more passengers.  The entire area outside the
terminal building was full of over-sized aircraft, the buildings were
packed to capacity, and diverted flights continued to come in.  The cops
were frantic to empty the planes as quickly as possible to make room for
more incoming passengers, which justified their rough treatment of anyone
holding up the evacuation of an aircraft.

   Maria Elena staggered out of her seat, clutching her air-sickness bag
and a small backpack that was her only carry-on item.  As she stepped into
the rain she nearly lost her balance on the staircase, but she held on
tightly to her cocaine.  That bag was a matter of life and death.  She
would have to find a place where she could clean off those pellets and
somehow get them back inside her body.

   She struggled in the rain towards the hanger, but suddenly another wave
of nausea swept over the unhappy girl.  She retched yet again, separated
from the other passengers, fell to her hands and knees, and lost another
five pellets onto the wet pavement.  She picked them up and stuffed them
into the pocket of her sweatshirt.  She recovered slightly and finished the
arduous journey to the hanger.

   The wind picked up and a loud clap of thunder announced that the storm
had arrived full force to Danubikt Moskt.  A large military tent broke
loose and flew across the tarmac, with several soldiers in desperate
pursuit.  The weather now prevented any more flights from coming in and it
was obvious none would be taking off anytime soon.  The roof of the hanger
rattled from the wind and rain as Danubian cops holding up signs with
flight numbers tried to re-organize the crowd of panicked and bewildered
passengers.

   Just as the Danubians had been determined to get everyone off the planes
as quickly as possible, they also wanted to empty the airport.  The police
announced that the passengers would be taken by bus to several nearby
schools and kept under guard until their flights could leave.  There would
be a place to sit down and dry off, bathrooms, showers, and clean drinking
water.

   *****

   Still gripping her airsickness bag and her wet backpack, Maria Elena
boarded a crowded bus and endured the short trip to a nearby elementary
school.  As the passengers entered the building and attempted to dry off,
Danubian soldiers brought in a truckload of blankets, towels, and hot
drinks; while a local baker unloaded a shipment of breakfast rolls and
blackberry jam.  It wasn't much, but considering the thousands of stranded
passengers flooding Danubikt Moskt on such short notice, a lot of people
would gratefully remember the Danubian government's efforts to make their
stay less onerous.  The wind continued to howl outside and the city
underwent two brief blackouts, but most of the passengers were satisfied to
be safe, in a clean dry building where they could at least stretch their
legs.

   Her intestines still hurt, but the nausea had passed and Maria Elena was
able to take an interest in her surroundings.  The school was very clean,
but the building looked like it was at least 100 years old.  The walls were
covered with children's art assignments, such as paintings of griffins,
landscapes, kings, and medieval knights.  The young Colombian also noticed
some drawings of families relaxing on beaches or lakes, and what was
interesting was that no one in the vacation pictures was wearing a
swim-suit.  That detail struck her as very odd.  Don't people wear
swimsuits in this country?

   There were other pictures that caught her attention.  It seemed that
every classroom boasted posters of anti-drug propaganda, graphic assaults
on the world in which Maria Elena recently had immersed herself.  There was
no question the Danubians were totally intolerant of drugs, if what was on
the walls of the school was any indication.  The courier took a deep
breath, thinking about her own reason for being on that wayward flight. 
The sooner she got out of this country, the better.

   Maria Elena diverted her attention from the anti-drug pictures.  She had
a much more urgent matter to take care of.  In that crowded school, she
hoped to find a bathroom or sink private enough for her to clean off her
pellets and get them back inside her body, either by re-swallowing them or
by shoving them up her bottom.  She had some Vaseline, so she calculated
that shoving the cocaine up her bottom might be the easier way to go.  30
pellets was a lot, however, so she resigned herself to the fact she
probably would have to re-swallow at least some.  That meant yet another
nauseating flight from Danubikt Moskt to Frankfurt, but at least she had
hope she could deliver her load after all and get her 1,000 Euros.  She
found a teacher's bathroom with a door that locked, filled the sink with
water, and proceeded to rinse off the pellets from her air-sickness bag and
wrapped them into a paper towel.  She would re-insert them upon finding out
when her flight could leave for Germany.  In the meantime she would have to
dry her clothing, get some rest, and hope that the pellets still in her
intestines would stay there another day.

   Maria Elena re-counted 30 pellets in the paper towel and hid them in her
backpack, which would add to the 70 still in her intestinal tract.  100
pellets...  which hopefully she could get rid of within another 24 hours.
Her problem was that she only had 65 pellets still inside her body, because
she had forgotten about the five pellets that she had put in her pocket.

   *****

   A few hours later, the sky lightened outside.  Representatives from the
Danubian Ministry of Tourism showed up at the school and ordered the
passengers to assemble in the gym to announce that three aircraft, which
included Flight 2298, were being refueled and would be ready to depart
Danubikt Moskt later that morning.  A line of buses was ready to take the
more fortunate passengers back to the airport.  Maria Elena panicked upon
realizing that she wouldn't have time to re-insert her pellets before
leaving the school.  Still, she quickly boarded the bus.  She just had to
make her flight.  The sooner she got on that plane, the sooner she would be
in Frankfurt with her cocaine safely delivered.

   She promised herself...  never again...  I am never doing this again...
it just isn't worth it...

   Upon getting to the airport, the courier immediately found a women's
bathroom and an open stall.  She had to have her cocaine completely
concealed before going through security.  She took out the paper towel with
30 pellets, opened up the tube of Vaseline, pulled down her panties, and
lifted up her skirt.  She lubricated the first pellet and worked it into
her rectum...

   After only 12 pellets it was obvious Maria Elena's intestine couldn't
hold any more.  Already she felt an overwhelming need to go to the
bathroom. Shit.  That meant she would have to swallow the rest.  With every
bit of willpower left in her, the desperate courier forced 18 pellets down
her throat.  She gagged twice, but finally all 18 pellets were back in her
stomach.

   Pain surged through the young woman's guts as she approached the
security checkpoint.  She began to sweat as she stood in line.  She sent
her backpack through the X-ray machine, and of course it was clean. 
Nothing in her clothing either...  if she could keep her body under control
then she would make it...  she would make it...

   YES!  The Danubian cop at the checkpoint waved her through.  She put on
her shoes and grabbed her backpack.

   She sighed with huge relief as she noticed several dogs running around
the terminal, sniffing passengers and carry-on luggage.  The dogs wouldn't
be a problem for her, because she didn't have any cocaine on her person,
just inside, where they couldn't smell it.

   Or...  so she thought...

   Suddenly a large brown mixed breed dog ran up to the Colombian, sniffed
her sweatshirt, and started barking.  Maria Elena froze with shock but
desperately whispered:

   "Callate, estupido animal...  callate!"

   The dog sat down and continued to bark loudly.  The animal's handler and
his partner ran up to the courier, who quickly learned that there was no
subtlety about the way Danubian cops handled themselves.  In front of
hundreds of passengers and airport employees, the female cop pulled out her
pistol and pointed it at the Colombian's head while the dog handler
screamed at her in Danubian.  He grabbed her hands and cuffed them behind
her back.  A second later Maria Elena felt his hands digging through her
pockets and pulling out items as the dog continued barking.

   Maria Elena was just starting to get over the shock of being detained
when she was hit with a much worse shock.  The male cop stuck his hand into
the pocket of her sweatshirt and removed five grape-sized objects.  He
examined them and handed a couple to his partner.  The dog became agitated,
barking vigorously, jumping, and wagging his tail.  Despair swept over
Maria Elena.  Now she knew why that dog had caught her.  She had completely
forgotten about those extra five pellets.

   The female cop kicked Maria Elena in the backs of her knees to force her
to kneel, all the while keeping her pistol aimed at the unfortunate
courier's head.  The man showed the pellets to the dog, and the animal went
wild with excitement.

   "Harash sobackt.  Doc-doc harash sobackt." The handler petted the dog
and then pulled out a couple of pieces of pork rind and fed them to the
animal.  Meanwhile, the cops' section chief showed up with a photographer
who immediately began taking pictures of the kneeling captive, in front of
hundreds of spectators.  Maria Elena was horrified, but there was much
worse to come.

   The next picture was a trophy shot.  The two cops stood next to their
prisoner.  Maria Elena tried to avoid looking into the camera, but the cops
would have none of that.  The female grabbed her hair and forced her to
raise her head so the camera could get her face.  There was another trophy
shot, this time with the male cop smiling, holding the pellets in his hand.
As an afterthought the section chief told the handler to include his dog in
the picture as well.

   Pulling Maria Elena by the hair, the female cop forced her to stand up.
Again she tried looking down, hoping to keep her face hidden as much as
possible.  The section chief nodded at the female cop, who again pulled
hard on the detainee's hair to force her head back.  He slapped her hard
across the face, put his finger under her chin, and addressed her in
English.

   "In this country, criminals do not hide their shame.  You will show your
dishonored face."

   "I...  please...  I no speak English...  I...  "

   Another vicious slap exploded on Maria Elena's cheek.

   "Silence!  Who gave you permission to speak?"

   Maria Elena began shaking with terror.  The female cop and the
photographer grabbed her arms and led her out of the waiting area past the
huge crowd of other travelers.  Those unfamiliar with Danubian law looked
on in horror at the mistreatment of a prisoner, but the spectacle would be
a harsh lesson for several hundred foreigners.  There was no tolerance,
none whatsoever, for drugs in the Danubian Republic.



   Chapter 2 - The Interrogation Room

   The four Danubian police officers hustled their captive through a locked
door and into a small hallway.  The cops and their prisoner then descended
down a long flight of stairs to the terminal building's basement, turned a
corner and entered a large room.  It was in this room where Maria Elena
would have her initial interrogation.  It also was where she was destined
to make several critical mistakes that would make her legal situation
considerably worse.  As the group entered the room the drug dog continued
to bark happily, knowing that he had a couple more scraps of pork coming
his way before he had to go back to work.

   The interrogation room was a large, windowless space with a row of
chairs lined up along the back wall.  To the right side of the entrance
there was a white backdrop and a camera mounted on a tripod, which Maria
Elena correctly assumed was used to take mug-shots.  Next to the
photography backdrop there was another camera on a second tripod and a
video camera mounted on a wall.  To her left were shelves full of medical
supplies and drug testing kits.  Also in the room were an examination table
and a gynecological chair.  Both the examination table and the
gynecological chair had straps and cuffs that could be used to immobilize
uncooperative prisoners.  Maria Elena saw two enema bottles hanging from
special stands.  She noticed that one of the bottles was full.

   The room also boasted more sinister-looking items.  Several
cruel-looking leather police switches hung on the wall near the enema
bottles.  There was an electric cattle prod plugged into a charger.  There
were several leather harnesses and restraints hanging on the wall, as well
as metal bars with cuffs designed to force apart a prisoner's arms or legs.
Several additional sets of cuffs hung from chains attached to the ceiling.

   There was more.  In the center of the room was a medical cart loaded
with yet more restraints and punishment implements such as paddles, a
riding crop, and a cane.  There were examination implements and a couple of
flashlights.  Also on the cart were lubricating gel, a couple of speculums,
a vibrator, and a dildo.

   Several more police officers and airport officials entered the room,
along with three men and a woman in doctors' smocks.  The man leading the
medical group was a lecherous-looking old man, but what was more unsettling
was the cruel, hungry expression on the face of the woman.

   Maria Elena was so terrified that she was unable to think straight.  In
spite of the hopelessness of her situation, her instincts told her to do
what she could to deceive the Danubians and hide the criminals for whom she
was working.  She had been instructed that if she was caught, under no
circumstances was she to reveal the identities of her handlers or the
owners of the cocaine she was carrying.  She was to offer no cooperation to
the police, unless she wanted to be killed in prison.

   The medical staff took up their positions near the examination table,
while most of the other officials sat down along the wall.  The cops
un-cuffed Maria Elena, but then the dog handler's partner stepped back and
again pointed her gun directly at the prisoner's head.

   A stern-looking middle-aged man in an immaculate dark suit approached
the prisoner along with a cop holding a cloth bag.  The man in the suit
addressed her in English.

   "You will completely undress.  You will remove all your clothing piece
by piece and hand each item to my assistant."

   "I...  I no understand...  I no speak English...  I...  "

   The man tightened his lips.  "Do you understand 'naked', or 'nude'?"

   Maria Elena gave a terrified nod.  To emphasize his point the man
reached forward and undid a button on the prisoner's blouse.  He spoke in a
very slow, deliberate tone, making sure that even if the Colombian did not
understand his words, his meaning would be clear to her.

   "Excellent.  So you do understand.  You are now a prisoner, and in this
country prisoners are always naked.  Now, you will take off your clothing
and you will put it in the bag." The man pointed at the bag; "...  and if
you don't, I will order my officer to shoot you."

   He pointed at the female officer, who responded by cocking her revolver.

   "Now, do you understand me?"

   Maria Elena began trembling more violently, her knees shaking so badly
that she barely could stand up.  She struggled to catch her breath, but
managed to nod.  With unsteady hands she fumbled with the buttons on her
blouse.  The cop with the bag opened it slightly, letting her know that she
did indeed comprehend what the Danubians wanted from her...  that she was
expected to surrender her clothing.

   She took off her blouse and sweatshirt together and reluctantly handed
them over to the cop with the bag.  As he pushed them out of sight she
began unbuckling the belt on her mini-skirt.  She handed over the belt and
very reluctantly unzipped the side of her skirt.  She forced herself to let
go and the skirt fell at her feet with a slight clump.  She stepped out of
the skirt and passed it to the cop.  Now she was naked except for her bra,
panties, and shoes.  The shoes were next, followed by her bra.

   The prisoner covered her breasts and started crying, unable to proceed
any further.  With a disgusted sigh the man in the suit reached forward to
jerk her panties to her knees.  Maria Elena let out an anguished cry,
immediately trying to cover herself.  Finally the man in the suit had
enough.  He pulled out his own service revolver and pointed it at the
captive.

   "If you do not want to die in this room, you will step out of those
panties, you will pick them up, and you will put them in the bag."

   With two loaded guns pointed at their prisoner, the Danubians overcame
the language barrier and established their will over the terrified Latin
American.  She did as she was told, stepping out of the fallen panties,
picking them up, and handing them to the cop.  Maria Elena still was
wearing various rings, earrings, and a couple of necklaces, which she had
to take off as well.  Once those items were off her body, she finally was
in compliance with Danubian law.  As a criminal she would not be allowed to
have anything covering her body; neither jewelry nor clothing.

   Normally the next step would be to have her pose for her mug-shots,
which in the Danubian Republic comprised not only photographs of the
criminal's face taken from various angles, but also detailed photos of the
criminal's uncovered body taken from various directions and positions.

   However, the supervisor decided to wait on the mug-shots.  He knew that
the prisoner was in such shock and terror that getting her to pose
correctly would take all afternoon, even if he continued to threaten to
shoot her.  However, he had a more important reason for waiting on the
mug-shots.  Under Danubian law, once a detainee is photographed she also is
immediately assigned a prisoner number, which formalizes her arrest.  From
the moment a person is formally arrested, the Danubian penal code
establishes limited rights, which include some restrictions on the way she
can be treated under interrogation.  If Maria Elena was not yet formally
arrested, she did not yet have any legal protection and the interrogation
team could do with her as they saw fit.  She would be interrogated first,
and only later would she pose for the mug-shots and receive her prisoner
number.

   Instead, the man in the suit ordered the female cop to put away her
revolver and handcuff Maria Elena's hands behind her back.  Her modesty now
would make no difference, because she was completely unable to cover
herself.  The female cop again kicked her in the backs of her knees to
force her to return to a kneeling position.

   Now, properly naked and kneeling with her hands cuffed behind her back,
trembling with terror and humiliation, and with tears running down her
cheeks, Maria Elena Rodriguez-Torres was ready to face interrogation by the
officers of the Airport Division of the National Police of the Republic of
Danubia.  The man in the suit picked up a leather switch and tapped the tip
against the prisoner's right breast.

   "Do you understand why you are in our custody, young lady?"

   "Please...  I...  I don't know nothin'...  I...  tourist...  I...  "

   In his had he held the five pellets and held them out in front of her.

   "Oh really?  You don't know what these are?"

   "No...  I don't know...  I...  "

   "So, these were in your pocket...  but you don't know what they are?"

   "I...  I don't know...  I...  please...  no English...  "

   The man in the suit smiled slightly.

   "I believe that we've established that you can understand English when
you need to.  So let's try this again...  " he held out the five pellets.
"DO...  YOU...  KNOW...  WHAT...  THESE...  ARE?

   Maria Elena started crying.  "cocaina...  " she mumbled.

   "Very good.  Smart girl.  Cocaina.  Now, why...  did...  you...  have...
COCAiNA...  in...  your...  pocket?

   "I...  don't know...  I just tourist...  I no have cocaina...  "

   The Danubians looked at each other in disgust.  It was obvious that
Maria Elena was lying.  Of course she knew about the cocaine she was
carrying.  What the young criminal did not realize at the time was that she
was violating a fundamental rule of the society that was holding her
captive, that lying under any circumstances is not tolerated, and certainly
not to a public official.  She was dishonoring herself with her lies, and
the Danubians consider that a person who is dishonored is a grave danger to
everyone around her.  Everyone in that room agreed that the young
criminal's spirit would have to be broken, that she would have to tell the
truth before the interrogation ended.

   Both the leader of the interrogation group and the chief doctor knew
that it was highly unlikely that Maria Elena was only carrying five
pellets. That didn't make any sense, because couriers usually carry around
100.  Now that she was naked, the officials could see that her stomach was
bloated.  They realized that the distressed look on her face not only came
from the shock of being arrested and stripped, but also from physical
discomfort.  The answer was obvious; the rest of the cocaine was still
inside her body.

   *****

   The interrogation team had several options at this point.  The crudest
and quickest way would have been for the chief investigator to simply point
his gun at Maria Elena and tell her that if she did not start talking, he
would indeed blow her brains out.  However, he figured that he had pushed
that option far enough as it was, because in truth he had no intention of
shooting her and did not want to risk her calling his bluff.

   The interrogators knew that the proper option would have been for them
to call the Ministry of Justice and have a Spokesperson-for-the-Criminal
come over to the airport.  In the Danubian justice system Spokespersons
were placed in charge of all criminal detainees and acted as a combination
of defense attorney, counselor, and parole officer.  Upon being officially
arrested a detainee was officially assigned to a Spokesperson, who assumed
formal custody for the duration of that person's sentence.

   The airport cops knew that the person they needed to contact was
Spokeswoman Kimberly Lee-Dolkivna, a naturalized Danubian citizen and the
one person within the Ministry of Justice considered a "specialist" in
dealing with foreigners.  Calling Spokeswoman Lee-Dolkivna would have been
especially appropriate in the case of Maria Elena, because it was likely
that she knew someone who spoke Spanish and thus could arrange for a proper
interview in the detainee's native language.

   However, no one in the room seriously considered calling Spokeswoman
Lee-Dolkivna any sooner than was necessary.  The male cops were looking
forward to having the attractive naked young woman at their mercy for
several hours, while the senior officials figured they could handle Maria
Elena better than any Spokesperson, regardless of the fact that none of
them spoke Spanish.

   The leader of the interrogation team had another reason for not calling
the Spokeswoman any sooner than necessary.  Given that Maria Elena had
already shown herself willing to lie, he decided to get her to formally
perjure herself.  He would make her declare that she had no more cocaine on
her, and then, in front of cameras and multiple witnesses, force her to
expel the remaining pellets.  If he could get that on film, there was no
way that Spokeswoman Lee-Dolkivna could refute the perjury charge during
trial.  Holding out the pellets he again asked:

   "How...  many...  of...  these...  do...  you...  have?  The number...
how...  many?"

   "I...  cinco...  f...  five...  no more...  "

   "No cocaine...  in...  your...  clothes?" He tugged at his jacket to
make sure she understood.

   "No cloth...  no cocaina...  "

   The man patted his stomach and glanced at the video camera to make sure
it was turned on.

   "Do...  you...  have...  cocaine...  in...  your...  stomach?"

   Maria Elena paused.  Even as she was speaking, she knew that she was
giving the wrong answer, an answer sure to make her situation worse.

   "No...  I no cocaina in stomach...  "

   "No cocaine in stomach?  Are you sure?"

   "No cocaina in stomach."

   The man then addressed the medical team in Danubian.  They were standing
by, ready with a vial of a foul smelling chemical that would make a person
retch upon sniffing it.  The two attendants immediately approached Maria
Elena and grabbed her arms.  The female grabbed her hair to immobilize her
head.  The old lecherous doctor then walked up to the detainee and waved
the vial under her nose.

   The chemical's effect on the captive was immediate.  She gagged
instantly, leaning forward and giving a tremendous heave that expelled the
18 pellets she had swallowed only an hour before.  The man in the suit
snapped his fingers at the cameraman to direct him to focus in on the
cocaine now lying on the floor.  The doctor continued to wave the vial
under the girl's nose.  She tried desperately tried to resist breathing,
but within a few seconds another whiff of that horrible concoction caused
her to vomit yet again.  Maria Elena was convinced that her stomach was
turning itself inside out as she threw up several more times, leaving a
total of about 40 pellets on the floor.  The cops smiled coldly.  Now they
had her on the perjury charge.  There was no refuting that fact, it was on
videotape.

   While the female medical assistant held Maria Elena's hair, the man in
the suit slapped her hard across the face.

   "No cocaine in stomach?  ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU SAID?  No cocaine in
stomach?  Then what's THIS?"

   He picked up one of the newly expelled pellets and held it in front of
the mortified prisoner.  He threw it onto the floor and then he addressed
the others in the room in Danubian.

   "Clean her up.  Give her some water and make sure she can stand.  When
she's ready, put her in the leg spreader and we shall continue."

   The old doctor spoke next.

   "Do you want her to have a rectal exam, Inspector?"

   "Yes, Doctor.  Most definitely I want her to have a rectal exam.  I
suspect we'll find the rest of the drugs when you conduct the exam." He
turned to the cameraman.  "And make sure that exam is properly filmed."

   "Yes, Inspector."

   Maria Elena's "bath" was the next part of her ordeal.  She would be
bathed alright, by two male cops who would fondle every part of her body
while they soaped her.  The cops un-cuffed her, only to restrain her wrists
from two cuffs hanging from the ceiling.  The cuffs were about a meter
apart, forcing the captive to stand with her arms spread.  The cops sprayed
her face and body with cold water before thoroughly covering her with soap.
They sensuously ran their hands up and down her body, concentrating, of
course, on her breasts, her bottom, and the sensitive area between her
legs. Another dose of cold spray cleaned off the soap, but the cops were
not done with her.  One of them held a toothbrush to her face and told her
in Danubian to open her mouth.  Tears ran down Maria Elena's face while she
faced the humiliation of having her teeth brushed by the cop in that
crowded room.  When finished the cop forced her to open her mouth and
sprayed cold water inside.

   The cops dried off the young woman, fondled her a bit more, and finally
let her down.  Before the bath Maria Elena seemed close to fainting, but
the cold water had revived her.  She now was ready for the leg spreader and
the rectal exam.

   The leg spreader was a simple device, metal bar with U-shaped pieces
facing outward on both sides and leather cuffs in the middle.  Facing away
from the row of chairs, the prisoner was forced to stand with her legs
spread while the cops placed the restraint between her thighs underneath.
She then was forced to bend over so her hands could be cuffed.  Once the
buckles where tightened around her wrists, she was unable to move.  Her
legs were spread widely and her bottom and vagina were lewdly displayed to
everyone standing behind her.  The doctor walked up behind the prisoner and
lovingly stroked her tightly stretched bottom before putting on a pair of
medical gloves.  The cop with the camera began snapping pictures while
everyone else took a seat to enjoy the spectacle.  A female cop grabbed the
prisoner's hair to keep her from falling over and her ordeal continued.

   The doctor lubricated his index finger and unceremoniously shoved it up
Maria Elena's bottom.  She winced and jerked upon feeling the pressure in
her intestines.  With his free hand the doctor spread the young woman's
bottom-hole.  Then he pulled out a grape-sized oval, identical to the ones
that she had just thrown up.  He held it up for the benefit of the
spectators and the camera, before holding it to the prisoner's nose,
forcing her to smell the odor of her own abused intestines.  The camera
continued to click as Maria Elena let out an anguished sob.  The
humiliation she was enduring was overwhelming, but there was still much
worse to come.

   The doctor dug out two additional pellets in front of nearly 20
witnesses, but then asked for a small pair of tongs to reach in and extract
more of the pellets.  Time and again Maria Elena felt the tongs slide into
her bottom, only to slide out with yet another portion of the cocaine she
was carrying.  The doctor then pushed in a small speculum and shined a
flashlight into her anus, before issuing an order in Danubian to one of the
male assistants.  The younger man immediately brought over the full enema
bottle and a large metal bowl.  The doctor removed the speculum, and then,
moving in front of his captive so she could see what he was doing,
lubricated the tip of the enema nozzle.  Yes, in front of all those men,
Maria Elena would be administered an enema.

   Click...  click...  click...  the camera continued documenting the young
woman's ongoing torment as the doctor slowly, very slowly, inserted the
enema tube.  He waited for what seemed an eternity before releasing the
water.

   Maria Elena felt an overwhelming need to go to the bathroom the instant
he unlatched the clip holding the tube shut.  Her intestines ached as the
warm water expanded in her guts and dislodged the remaining pellets.  She
would be spared nothing.  She would pay for her lie many times over.  She
would be totally broken before any Spokesperson got a chance to talk to
her. From her there would be no criminal code of silence; before she left
that room she would confess and give up everything she knew about her
handlers.

   The female cop once again pointed her revolver at Maria Elena's head
while the doctor removed the enema tube and unbuckled her wrists from the
leg spreader.  The device dropped to the floor with a loud clang as the
prisoner put her hands over her stomach and gasped with pain.  She was
desperate to make it to the bathroom, but the Danubians were not about to
allow her even that tiny shred of dignity.  Two cops grabbed the young
woman's wrists and forced her to squat over the large bowl.  A spasm of
pain finally forced her to give up.  She released the contents of her
intestines in full view of her spectators, filling the bowl with noxious
brown liquid punctuated with yet more pellets.  As her bowels expelled the
last of the enema and the final pellets she had concealed in her
intestines, the man in the suit stood in front of her watching, his arms
crossed and his lips tightened.  The photographer continued to take
pictures non-stop, documenting the courier's on-going torment.

   Once she was finished, the two cops lifted Maria Elena and stood her
before the man in the suit.  He lifted her chin and moved his face just a
few centimeters in front of hers.  Using a tone of suppressed rage, he
spoke to her.  She did not understand much of his English, but she
understood very clearly the emotion in his voice:

   "'No cocaina in stomach.' Those were the words you used, dishonored
liar. Your own words have condemned you."

   Deeply offended that she had lied to him, a public official, he was
tempted to hit her across the face yet again, but resisted that urge. 
Instead he snapped his fingers and pointed at the hose lying on the floor.
The two cops holding her arms guided her to the cuffs hanging from the
ceiling for a second hosing with cold water.  They paid special attention
to the girl's sore bottom-hole, rubbing it with soap and massaging the
opening with their fingertips before rinsing.  Maria Elena sobbed with
despair as she hung helplessly and the frigid spray cleaned off the last
remnants of the soap.

   For a second time, the two male cops dried her body with towels and
fondled her.  Meanwhile, the man in the suit looked over the collection of
pellets now laid out on a metal hospital tray.  He consulted with the
doctor, who seemed satisfied they had managed to remove all of the drugs
from their prisoner.  A full kilo of cocaine, which had been destined for a
nightclub in Hamburg, now had been taken off the street.

   The two cops cuffed the prisoner's hands behind her back and led her to
the doctor.  The old man showed her the tray of pellets.  He said nothing.
He just stood in front of the young Colombian, silently holding the tray
and enjoying her terrified expression.  She was trembling and her bare
breasts were jiggling slightly.  He reached forward and gently traced one
of her nipples, terrifying the poor girl even more.  Good.  The whole idea
was to break her before she had to be turned over to a Spokesperson.

   The two cops put Maria Elena back into the leg spreader, leaving her
bent over, helpless, and lewdly exposed.  Several cops stood around the
prisoner, patting her bottom and admiring her figure, while they waited for
their boss to issue another command.  The inspector picked up a paddle from
the table and held it up for the benefit of his subordinates and the
horrified naked captive.  He turned to the youngest cop in the room, a
recent graduate of the National Police Academy.

   "Officer Volkchiatk!"

   "Yes, Inspector!"

   "Have you ever had the opportunity to use one of these?  It is called a
'paddle'.  It is a punishment implement used by the Americans."

   "No, Inspector, I've only seen them.  I've never had the chance to use
one on a criminal."

   "Well, Officer, we'll need to change that, now won't we?  Would you like
to try it on our little Colombian friend here?"

   "Yes, Inspector!"

   "Very well then.  I am giving you the honor, Officer."

   "Thank you, Inspector!"

   With that the director handed the cruel-looking implement over to his
subordinate, who tapped it against his palm to test how it felt.

   Using a paddle was a new experience for the cop, because paddles only
recently had been introduced in Danubia as an alternative to traditional
leather switches.  The advantage of using a paddle was that the American
implement was less dangerous and required considerably less training than a
police switch.  As a result, paddles were beginning to show up in schools
and interrogation rooms around the Danubian Republic, although it remained
doubtful they ever would replace switches during formal judicial
punishments.

   Maria Elena gasped in horror and disbelief as the young cop showed her
the paddle, then moved behind her and began teasing her with it, gently
rubbing her vulnerable bottom with the implement and tapping her with the
end.  She desperately struggled to stand up, but the cuffs held tight and
she could barely move, let alone escape.

   The officer smiled coldly, tapped the paddle against her left
bottom-cheek one final time, and struck hard with a cruel blow.  A loud POP
and an anguished cry of pain announced the beginning of what would be a
long and painful afternoon for the captured courier.

   POP...  POP...  POP...  POP...  POP...

   Slowly and methodically the cop struck his victim, on the left side,
then on the right side, then across both agonized bottom-cheeks.  Like all
cops in the Danubian Republic, the young man had received formal training
in administering physical discipline and had been certified to use a police
switch to flog criminals.  However, he had never used a paddle and was
thoroughly enjoying the new experience.  The loud pops and the evenly
spreading reddish marks on the girl's bottom fascinated him.  He had no
desire to stop anytime soon.  to the contrary, he was hoping to prove
himself to the others in the room by completely breaking any hint of
resistance from the young Colombian.  He was determined that by the time he
was finished with her, she would be so terrified that she would be
completely compliant with anything his boss told her to do.

   "AIEEEEE!!!!  No...  no...  por favor...  piedad...  no mas... 
AIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!...  por-fa...  por favor...  tenga piedad...  "

   Maria Elena's anguished cries and desperate pleas in Spanish filled the
room as the paddle continued to belabor her tormented backside.  The only
pause came when she pitched forward and started to fall, but fortunately
the cop's partner was standing next to the detainee, fully anticipating
that she might lose her balance.  The police woman caught the prisoner
before she hit the floor, but then brutally grabbed her hair and righted
her.  She held on tight to Maria Elena's hair while her partner struck hard
with a series of particularly vicious swats.

   Maria Elena continued to scream for "piedad".  However from the
Danubians there would be no "piedad" for a proven drug trafficker and
perjurer.  A woman as disgusting and dishonored as this drug courier
deserved no pity whatsoever.  The cop did not quit paddling Maria Elena
until he was convinced that just a few more swats would break her skin. 
Her bottom was painfully swollen and deep red in color.  He could tell that
she was very weak.  Were it not for his partner holding her up by viciously
gripping her hair, she would have fallen onto her face a long time ago. 
The cop handed the paddle to one of his fellow officers and asked for one
of the leather switches hanging on the wall.  With the new implement he
viciously struck the detainee across the backs of her thighs and was
rewarded with an ear-piercing scream.  As soon as the scream died down he
struck hard again.  He waited for her second scream to die down, before
addressing his boss in Danubian.

   "Inspector, I believe she's ready.  Should we release her?"

   "As you see fit, Officer.  If you feel she is ready, then release her
and we shall see if your assessment of the prisoner's condition is
accurate."

   As his partner continued to pull hard on the courier's hair, the young
cop unbuckled the cuffs holding Maria Elena's hands.  Once again the leg
spreader fell to the ground with a loud clank.  The two cops grabbed the
sobbing prisoner's arms and led her to the man in the suit.  The female
kicked the naked Colombian in the backs of the knees to force her to kneel.

   Now the Danubians would have to test whether or not Maria Elena needed
any further punishment.  With taps of the switch the young cop directed her
to kneel forward and put her elbows on the ground.  Maria Elena did as she
was directed and did not resist.  She remained in that position, sobbing,
for several long minutes before the Inspector spoke to her.

   "The cocaine...  who does it belong to?  Who is the owner of the
cocaine? What is the name...  the name...  the identity...  of the person
you planned to give it to?"

   Officer Volkchiatk touched the switch to the young woman's back, letting
her know the consequences of not answering.

   At that moment Maria Elena wanted only one thing in life.  She wanted
the whipping to stop.  She wanted the pain and the humiliation to stop.  It
was at that point she realized she needed to give up.  Whatever her handler
had threatened to do to her, and whatever her organization was capable of
doing, no longer had any relevance in her life.  Everything that she had
wanted and hoped for prior to getting on Flight 2298 had ended, and none of
it was ever going to come back.  Her life, her body, and her future now
belonged to the Danubians, cruel men in uniform who had proven themselves
every bit as ruthless as any drug trafficker.

   She let out a final sob, and gave her answer.

   "Alex Mejia-Silva.  Se llama Alex Mejia-Silva."

   "Alex Mejia-Silva in Frankfurt, or Alex Mejia-Silva in Panama?"

   "Alex Mejia en Panama."

   "What about Frankfurt?  Germany?  I want the name in Frankfurt."

   "No conozco el hombre en Alemania, pero me dijieron que se llama 'el
Flaco'.  El Flaco me iba a llamar."

   The Danubians recorded Maria Elena's answers, knowing that they could
follow up the information once they found someone who could translate her
Spanish into Danubian.  The inspector knew that it was highly unlikely that
a mere one-kilo courier had much information that would be of any use to
the Danubian National Police, but to him that really didn't matter.  What
mattered was that Maria Elena was willing to do what she was told, willing
to talk, and willing to give up whatever names she knew.

   The inspector nodded approvingly at his subordinate.  The young officer
had passed his first real-life test interrogating a detainee.

   *****

   For the next half hour the Inspector questioned Maria Elena about her
drug trafficking group, her initial trip from Colombia to Panama, her plans
once she got to Germany, where she got her passport and forged visa, and,
above all, names and addresses.  He understood very little of what she was
saying, but her voice was being recorded and whatever information was
lacking could be supplemented once a Spanish-speaker was located.  The
names would be turned over to the INTERPOL, although the Inspector knew,
through experience, that it was unlikely anything would happen to anyone
else in Maria Elena's trafficking group.  They had lost a kilo and a
courier, no big deal.  Maria Elena's life would be forever changed, but of
course, to her trafficking group she was expendable.

   Not that the Inspector or anyone else in the room had any sympathy for
Maria Elena.  To the Danubians, the poverty and personal situation that led
her to the desperate decision to risk her life for 1,000 Euros and a fake
visa were irrelevant.  The fact that she had no intention of taking the
cocaine to Danubia and only had landed there by accident was irrelevant. 
To the officials in that basement she was a drug trafficker, a liar, a
perjurer, and a person who had violated the sanctity of her body by using
it to smuggle cocaine.  Because she was so thoroughly dishonored, she had
no rights and deserved no mercy.

   Throughout the interrogation Maria Elena remained on her elbows and
knees, her muscles cramping and her bottom aching, her stomach still in
pain from the forced vomiting and her intestines still sore from the
pellets and the enema that finally forced her to expel them.  Between her
answers, she sobbed from despair, fright, and discomfort.  However, above
all she was sobbing from the utter humiliation she was experiencing, from
her exposure and all the fondling she had endured.

   The interrogation team let her stand up and gave her a short respite. 
One of the doctor's assistants handed her a glass of water, which she drank
greedily.  She was dehydrated, but had not realized it until she had the
chance to drink.  Next she was ordered to sit down and given a glass of
blackberry punch, which further restored her senses and made her feel
considerably better.  The pallor in her skin and her sick expression faded
after a few minutes.  She now was ready for the next part of her ordeal. 
The Danubians had something far more degrading planned for her.  Before she
posed for her mug-shots and received her criminal number, she faced a final
humiliation, one that served no other purpose than to provide her
tormentors with entertainment.

   The Inspector nodded at the old doctor, who pointed at the gynecological
chair and snapped his fingers at his two male assistants.  Immediately the
medical assistants grabbed Maria Elena, lifted her up, and forced her into
the examination chair.  Before she realized what was happening, they
tightly buckled her ankles and wrists.  The assistants spread the leg
supports and locked them open, leaving her immobilized and thoroughly
exposed.

   She gasped with despair, terrified that the cops were planning to
gang-rape her.  The cops knew that was what she was thinking, but what they
had in mind was not something as simple as rape.  They wanted to further
humiliate her, but were not about to dishonor their own bodies in doing so.
Instead they planned to insult her in the worst way a woman could be
insulted in Danubia.

   The female medical assistant approached the terrified Colombian.  Using
a stethoscope she listened to the criminal's pounding heart and nervous
breathing, then held her wrist and measured her very rapid pulse.  Then she
began stroking the young woman's limbs, checking the joints and making sure
her bones were not broken.  She began stroking the girl's skin, making sure
her skin was healthy and had no injuries or lumps.  From there she moved to
Maria Elena's breasts, examining them for lumps or other imperfections. 
Maria Elena's nipples hardened slightly, and hardened even more when the
medical assistant gently began stroking them with her fingertips.  The
assistant turned her attention to the courier's face, gently stroking her
cheeks and making sure her temperature was normal.

   "You pretty girl.  So pretty...  Hmmmm...  "

   Maria Elena's body began reacting to the soft touches and gentle speech
of her examiner.  The Danubian woman coldly observed her subject's
reactions, astutely gauging what was working and what wasn't.  As she
gently stroked Maria Elena's neck and shoulders, again she spoke to her in
a soft, comforting tone of voice.

   "Nice girl...  pretty girl...  hmmmm...  so lovely...

   Maria Elena had no clue what was going on.  She was relieved that for
the moment she was not being beaten, she was not being questioned, and she
was not being raped.  None of those horrid men were touching her.  Instead
she was being caressed by another female who seemed to have no ill intent
towards her.  Involuntarily she was relaxing, her body slowly surrendering
to the touches of that Danubian woman in the white doctor's smock.

   The woman gently ran her fingers along Maria Elena's stomach, before
returning to her breasts and shoulders.

   "You poor girl...  I no hurt you...  "

   Maria Elena gasped and began to let down her guard.  The first hint of
erotic excitement swept through her body.  The Danubian gently began
stroking the insides of her legs.  She then moved close to the subject's
face and with a gentle, reassuring tone of voice commented:

   "I need see you...  but I no hurt you.  You be good girl for me?  You
please be good girl?"

   "Yes...  I be good...  I...  "

   The Danubian woman gently stroked Maria Elena's cheek, gave her an
almost sad look, and diverted her attention to the courier's very exposed
vulva.

   She put on a medical glove on her right hand, then with her left hand
continued to stroke her subject's thighs and stomach.  Expertly she touched
the hapless foreigner, having figured out the vulnerabilities of the girl's
body and what touches were most effective for arousing her.  She lubricated
her gloved hand, and gently began stroking Maria Elena's vulnerable labia.
She teased and barely brushed that secret area, making her victim want to
be touched all that much more.  Gradually Maria Elena's awareness of her
surroundings and her situation began to fade, as her attention focused more
and more on the pleasurable sensations that her body was experiencing.

   "You good girl?  You kiss my cheek?"

   Maria Elena complied, kissing the cheek of her tormentor.  She now was
under the other woman's control, wanting nothing more than to experience
the sexual gratification that was to be her reward for pleasing that
Danubian.

   The male cops observing what was going on smiled at each other at the
sight of their captive debasing herself so blatantly.  The medical
assistant was coming through for them once again.  The woman's specialty
was humiliating female captives by bringing them to orgasm in the
interrogation room and she was an expert in what she was doing.  She had
tormented and debased dozens of female detainees, Danubian and foreign
alike.  She knew the vulnerabilities of the female body, and was skilled at
determining the individual weaknesses of a woman with just a few words and
gentle strokes of her fingers.  Even Danubian women, who were well aware of
her true intentions, found it hard to resist her touches and caresses. 
Foreign women, who were mostly unaware that to be sexually touched by
another person of the same sex was a supreme insult in Danubian society,
almost always fell victim to having a forced orgasm in the interrogation
room.

   Maria Elena began to get wet as the Danubian gently stroked her
clitoris.

   "Uuuuuy...  Uy si...  Aieeee...  Uy...  Ai si...  o que bueno...  si...
uy si...  "

   The medical assistant turned on the vibrator and gently worked it into
her victim.  Oh it felt so good...

   Maria Elena gasped and perspired as the orgasm swept over her.  She
ignored the click-click-click of the camera and the fact she was being
watched and videotaped.  It felt so good at the moment...  so good...

   "aieee...  uy si...  si...  o mas...  mas...  por-fa...  si...  uy... 
uy...  "

   Once the orgasm passed, Maria Elena quickly came to her senses.  She
noted the cold smiles on the faces of the men who had watched the spectacle
that she had made out of herself.  Then she noticed the very cruel look on
the face of the woman who had just seduced her.  As a gesture of contempt,
the Danubian took off her medical glove and dropped it on the detainee's
face.

   The medical assistant smiled triumphantly at the Inspector, who bowed
slightly as a gesture of respect.  Once again the woman's expertise had
allowed her to disgrace and humiliate a detainee.  Maria Elena had been
seduced by another woman, and in the mindset of the Danubians she was now
completely dishonored.  She looked with horror at the cameras, which
obviously had recorded everything.

   There was another humiliation awaiting her, but it paled in comparison
with what had just been done to her by that Danubian medical assistant. 
She was pulled out of the gynecological chair and chained to the ceiling
for a third frigid spray-bath to wash off the remnants of her orgasm.  As
two sets of hands worked the soap between her legs and fondled her vulva,
she quietly cried.  She struggled to keep her face up, because she knew
that as a criminal in Danubia she had no right to hide her shame.  She also
knew that if she lowered her head, she could expect a vicious slap from
that inspector in the suit.

   *****

   The dog handler and his partner cuffed Maria Elena and led her out of
the interrogation into the basement hallway.  Across from the large room
was a row of small doorways.  The two police officers opened the door into
a small, dark, unfurnished cell.  They uncuffed their prisoner, pushed her
into the room, closed the door, and left her to go back to work.  On their
way out they picked up the dog.  Maria Elena could hear the animal barking
happily as the trio went back up the stairs into the main concourse.  She
vaguely wondered if they would catch anyone else that day, and then
wondered how many couriers they had caught altogether.

   Maria Elena sat in silence.  The cell was cold and she curled up to try
to keep warm.  As she sat in the darkness, completely naked in the small
dismal room, a despair and anguish unlike anything she had ever experienced
swept over her.  Her bottom continued to ache from the cruel paddling she
had received, but what had followed tormented her soul even more.  Even
though she was unfamiliar with Danubian culture and spoke nothing of the
country's language, she fully understood the extent to which they had
humiliated her in that room.

   Oh, to be lost in this horrible place in Central Europe, in a country
she never had heard of before her plane landed and where no one spoke
Spanish...  would she even make it out alive?  No one knew she was here,
so, what was to prevent the Danubians from simply killing her?  Was that
possible?  But then again, did it matter if she died in Danubikt Moskt? 
Even assuming she would be released within a few months, she didn't see how
she could return to Colombia and face her family, not after that experience
in the interrogation room.  But then, even if she wanted to return to
Colombia, that option was no longer open to her.  She had lost her cocaine
load due to her own negligence and probably would be killed by her
trafficking group.  If she wasn't killed for that, she would be killed for
having given up what she knew about her handlers.  God knows what the
Danubians would do with that information once they translated it, give it
to the Colombian National Police, most likely.  No, she couldn't go home.
Better that she simply die here and be forgotten.

   So this was it for Maria Elena Rodriguez-Torres.  At age 19, her life
was over.  There was no future for her; she never would amount to anything.
All those wrong choices, wrong people, quitting school, quitting her job,
leaving her boyfriend for that guy with the flashy car, not listening to
her mother, this is what it had led to.  Sitting alone and naked in a dark
holding cell in Eastern Europe, waiting to die.

   She did not cry.  She was past crying.  She thought that she could
actually feel Death creeping into the cell, cloaking her with darkness and
preparing to take her into Hell.

   *****

   As soon as his dog handler returned upstairs to the main boarding area
to resume the search for drugs and couriers, the Inspector glanced at the
cloth bag that contained Maria Elena's clothing and jewelry.  He removed
her passport, Colombian ID card, her plane ticket, cell phone, and a small
address book.  He would have to take a look at the cell phone and copy
whatever information it contained, but the other items he could put away
and study when he had more time.  As for her clothing and jewelry, those
would stay in the bag and go into cold storage.  Considering the charges
she was facing, it would be a very long time before Maria Elena
Rodriguez-Torres would be permitted to wear any clothing.

   As he filled out a label and sealed the bag, the official reflected with
cold satisfaction that the criminal had a very nasty surprise waiting for
her when she went before the arraignment panel.  The perjury charge would
add 20 years to her sentence.  Perjury (which under Danubian law
constituted making any false statement in an effort to deceive a law
enforcement or judicial official during a trial or investigation) was
considered one of the most serious non-capital crimes that a criminal could
commit.  There was no question that the Colombian would be convicted and
sentenced for perjury.  The evidence on that video tape was irrefutable. 
To make sure the perjury charge would stick, the inspector ordered the
photographer to make a copy of interrogation to forward to the arraignment
committee.

   The inspector decided it was time to call Spokeswoman Lee-Dolkivna and
see if she could bring someone who spoke Spanish to the airport.  He knew
that whatever information the detainee had given him was time-sensitive, so
getting her recorded answers translated and conducting a follow-up
interview were his next priorities.

   Calling a Spokesperson meant that the Colombian girl now would have to
be photographed and formally arrested.  It was certain that Spokeswoman
Lee-Dolkivna would assume formal custody and presumably take her to the
Central Police Station where she would be arraigned and kept until trial.
Upon being assigned a criminal number she no longer would be at the mercy
of the Airport Unit, but that didn't matter.  The Inspector and his
subordinates already had their fun and were ready to get rid of her.  She
had confessed, and now would become someone else's problem.