Everything went well on Marissa's next couple trips, but then things almost fell apart. Coming home on the fourth one after her break, she was asked to submit to an x ray after the Customs agent scanned her passport. She tried to protest, claiming she didn't like the risk of radiation, but the agent insisted, telling her that if she refused, she would be placed in a room with a non flushing toilet until she had a bowel movement.

Knowing that she was caught either way, she opted for the x ray to get it over with. Well, at least I am out of the Cartel, she thought, but I hope they do not go after my family. It's not my fault that Customs is demanding an x ray. She stepped into the x ray scanner and allowed the picture to be taken, then waited for the cops to come get her. To her surprise, the agent told her she could go, as the x ray was clear. She didn't understand why, but she didn't protest. She did, however, ask why she'd been detained. “Your name was flagged in our system as someone potentially carrying drugs.”

“Why would that happen?” Marissa asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Could be someone called in a tip”, the agent replied. “I don't know for sure as that info isn't on the flag.” Marissa thanked her and looked around for her escort, but Chase was nowhere to be found. She sat on a bench and waited for a while but she had to get home as she was feeling the urge to expel and she sure didn't want to do that in an airport restroom. While she relied on her escort to pull her suitcase along so that she could use both hands for her crutches, she could do it herself if she had to. She slung her purse and carry on bag over her shoulder and pulled her suitcase with her left hand, carrying one crutch in that hand as well, using her right hand on the crutch she was walking with. Having a suitcase with wheels made all the difference but it was still hard and by the time she got out the airport door, she was ready to collapse. Fortunately, there were cabs lined up waiting for fares and she approached the nearest one. The driver got out and put her luggage in the trunk while she got in. What a relief. Now, she just had to get from the door of her apartment building up to her unit, but that wasn't as far as walking through the airport.

Finally, Marissa arrived home. There was no time to check the messages on her voicemail, she had to go to the bathroom. When she was finished, she checked to see if there were any messages from Chase. There were none. She called Mark and told him about what had happened. He said that Chase had called him and said that she had got nailed at Customs. He'd thought she was in jail. “I'll come over myself and get the product and your ID, Lydia.”

-------------------------

Before heading to Marissa's, Mark called his superior. “John, Lydia got through customs. They x-rayed her, but I guess the packets didn't show up.”

“I told her helpers to use the older packets that show up more easily! I will contact them and find out what went wrong.” John was livid. He'd been told by the higher echelon to get rid of Lydia as she was becoming too much of a risk. Once she got to jail, they had someone there who would “take care” of her.

“I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job, but maybe we should leave her be for the next couple runs. She might be suspicious and be extra cautious.”

“I agree, Mark. Let her go as usual for the next two trips, then we'll get her on the third. I'll do it a different way next time.”

Mark had come to terms with the fact that he was going to lose Lydia. He didn't like it and he thought they should give the psychiatrist more time to work with her, but it was not up to him. He had to follow orders. Part of him wished he could alert her, but what would that accomplish? She couldn't run because she knew if she did, her family would suffer. If the organization took her out, they would leave her loved ones alone. This way was best if it had to happen. He just hoped they made it as quick and painless as possible.

---------------------------

Marissa was certain someone had called Customs on her the day she had to submit to an x-ray. But who? The only ones who knew about her and what alias she would be using were Mark and maybe people above him. Why would they try to get her caught? Were they tired of her having to be in therapy? Marissa now knew she could not trust Mark. She needed to make a plan. She had found someone who could make fake identification, so she hired him to make a set for her in a name completely unrelated to any the Cartel had given her. It was mailed to her in a plain brown envelope with a fake return address. She'd sent an email transfer to an anonymous email address to pay for it and had sent a photo to the same email. When she received the ID, she took it to her storage locker and put it in the suitcase she kept there, along with some more cash. She didn't know if she would need it, but it gave her comfort to know it was there.

Her third trip after the x-ray incident, Marissa was sent to the Bahamas. It was closer to her last trip there than usual. Unbeknownst to her, Mark had advocated to send her there for her last run, as he knew how much she loved that destination. He felt it was the least he could do. Following orders from John, he told her she would not have an escort back - that they were short on escorts as some had been transferred overseas. “Can you manage, Lydia? If you can't, you can ask for help from the airport employees.”

“I'll be fine, Mark”, she replied. Her spidey senses were tingling again. She'd *never* come back from a trip without an escort. Women travelling alone were on the list of things Customs watched for. She knew she had to be very careful and not arouse suspicion in any way.

Marissa enjoyed her week in Nassau, as usual. She put the return trip out of her mind as much as possible. The last couple had gone well, but she was still on edge about getting through Customs.

The day of her flight home was here. When the cab dropped her off at the airport, Marissa balanced her left crutch in her hand as she pulled her suitcase along with her, walking using just one crutch. Her carry on bag and her purse were slung over her shoulder. Once inside, she sought out a bench to sit down on for a rest before heading to the baggage check area. She looked around, watching the people for a couple minutes, then looked down at her suitcase. Something didn't seem quite right. She pulled it closer and looked again. Then it hit her. There were scratch marks on the lock, which had not been there previously. Oh God, she thought, did someone pick the lock? What am I going to do? I have to find out if anything was put in there.

Marissa got up and walked to the nearest ladies room. Once inside, she sought out the handicapped stall, which had a lot more room. Fortunately, it was not occupied. She shut the door and sat down on the toilet. Fishing her key out of her purse, she unlocked the luggage and looked inside. Packets of what she presumed were drugs were on top of her clothes. She counted five. She took them out and tore them apart, flushing the white powder she found inside and setting aside the packaging. Next, she carefully searched through her clothing and in the pockets along the inside of the suitcase, finding a few more. She flushed the contents of them as well. Her shoes were in bags, she check them to make sure no packets were in them, then took one pair out of it's bag and put the packaging in it. When she was sure that she'd found all the packets that were there, she zipped up the suitcase and locked it. Finally, she searched through her purse and carry on luggage, finding a few packets in each. When she was finally finished, she put the bag containing the packets in the garbage by the bathroom door, pushing it down as far as she could.

Her heart was pounding as she went through the body scanner but she did her best to act and appear normal. This scanner only detected things in and under her clothing. It could not detect anything in her stomach or intestines.

Once the plane was in the air, she rested a bit easier, but she still had to go through Customs and she had to figure out what do to when it landed. She couldn't go home. If the Cartel had planted those drugs - and she was sure it had - and if she was able to get through Customs with no hassles, they might go to her apartment to wait for her. Obviously, they wanted to get rid of her.

She felt she had nothing to lose. If the Cartel had decided to get rid of her, they would take it out on her family, though she couldn't figure out what she'd done to make them not want her as a mule anymore. Maybe it was her depression and subsequent therapy, which didn't seem to be working. Oh, the Zoloft had brought her out of the funk she was in, but try as she might, she could not fool Dr Lambert into thinking she was now okay. The shrink kept pushing until she told her she still hated what she was doing with every ounce of her being. She'd asked Mark if she could stop the sessions and just stay on the medication. He had checked with his bosses who said no.

When the flight attendant came along with the drinks cart, Marissa just had a pop. Normally, she would have a rum and coke, but she wanted her mind crystal clear to formulate a plan and then act on it.

By the time the plane landed, Marissa knew what she was going to do. She got through Customs with no trouble and hailed a cab, which she took to a hotel and checked in using her real name and ID. She asked the clerk to keep her stay confidential, telling her that her ex was on a rampage and she was afraid he'd find her. The clerk said she would flag the room in the computer so that no information would be given out.

Once in her room, Marissa expelled the packets that had been pushed into her rectum by one of the “helpers” in her hotel room in Nassau. She flushed the product and put the packaging into a small bag. It would take longer to expel the ones making their way through her intestines without laxatives. She had none on her, they were at her apartment.

After a short nap, she took the items out of her suitcase that she wanted to keep, including a change of clothes. Then she took the luggage downstairs and hailed a cab. Her first stop was a drug store, where she picked up some Ex Lax. Then she went to the storage facility. She exchanged her suitcase with the one that she had put there for safe keeping, returning with it to the hotel. The clerk was out of sight, fortunately, so she wouldn't see her coming back with a different suitcase. She took it to her room, then went back downstairs. Out on the sidewalk, she noticed an electronics store across the street. Good. She wouldn't have to get another cab.

At the electronics store, she bought a notebook computer, then went back to her room. First, she took the Ex Lax, then she went through the set-up process with the notebook and tapped into the hotel's wi fi. She looked up information on bus schedules out of town. Once she selected a time and destination, she called the front desk and asked if they had any shower seats. They did and the clerk said she'd have one sent up. She reassured Marissa that they disinfected the seat after each use.

While she waited for the seat to come up, she opened the suitcase she'd had in storage, taking out the burner phone and card, some money and the fake ID she'd had made. She used the card to put minutes on the phone, then put it and the money and identification in her purse. Finally, she put the items she'd taken out of the other suitcase in this one and waited for the hotel employee to bring the shower seat up. She was so glad she'd put this suitcase and it's contents in storage. It made her feel sick to think of losing the things Braxton had given her.

The Ex Lax started working and she spent some time on the toilet. Once she was finished, Marissa disposed of the product and put the capsules in the bag with the others. The shower chair had been delivered to her room, so she bathed, then sat under the hot water for a while before falling into bed utterly exhausted. She slept until noon the next day, missing the bus she'd intended to take. Fortunately, she'd written down the next two departure times so she didn't have to go back online to look. She got dressed and made sure she had everything with her, including her new notebook. It had served it's purpose, but she might as well keep it. Her laptop was at the apartment. Fortunately, there was nothing on it that was forbidden by the Cartel, not that it mattered anyway since she was running away from them.

When she was ready, she checked out and took a cab to the bus station, where she bought a ticket to Calgary, Alberta. She'd have to change buses in Spokane. Bus lines now required identification, so she committed one last crime and used the fake set she'd had made up. The agent, noticing her crutches, asked if she would be able to get up the steps on the bus. “Oh yes”, she replied. “I can do steps, it just takes me longer, so I'll board last.”

“No need to. We can pre-board you. A benefit of that is that you'll have your choice of seats.”

Before she sat down to wait, she went to the ladies room and put the bag of capsules into the garbage.

Marissa was nervous until the bus pulled out of the station. She'd chosen to take this mode of transportation across the border, thinking that the Cartel might have people at the airport looking for her. She would have preferred using her real name and ID, but she feared that they would have someone who could get into the Customs computers and look for her. She didn't know if Mark knew her real last name - he knew her first name - but she was sure that people higher up than him did.

Hours later, at the border, everyone had to disembark and get their luggage from the storage compartments under the bus. Marissa hung back, waiting until the other passengers got theirs. She didn't want to be jostled in the melee. A Customs agent noticed her and her crutches and offered to take her suitcase out for her. She gratefully accepted. Everyone had to talk to an agent, giving information such as their name, destination and purpose of their trip. Marissa said she was visiting friends and gave her father's name and the address of the family farm, hoping they wouldn't call him to verify her story. They didn't. There were too many people crossing the border to verify the destination of each one.

She was exhausted but was able to get some sleep on the ride to Calgary. They did stop once at a highway rest stop where they could stretch their legs and get something to eat. Marissa was too nervous to eat, but she did walk around a little bit.

In Calgary, Marissa took a taxi to the airport and bought a ticket to Edmonton, using her real identification, figuring that if the Cartel didn't know she'd crossed the border, they'd not be looking for her on domestic flights. There were two hours until her flight, so after she checked her suitcase, she bought a coffee at a coffee stand and found a seat. She took the burner phone she'd purchased out of her purse. Nervously, she entered a phone number and took a deep breath. There was an answer on the third ring. The moderately deep voice of a middle aged male. “Hello.”

“Daddy?” she said, her voice trembling.