Braxton picked up his phone. “Hi Logan”, he greeted his friend. “I hope you've found Marissa.” He was relaxing in his living room after supper.

“I'm sorry, Braxton – I haven't found her. Her cell service has been cancelled. There's no record of her buying a plane or train ticket or of her renting a vehicle under either name you gave me. None of the travel agencies here list her as an employee.”

Braxton's heart sank. “Thanks for trying, Logan. You must have spent a lot of time on this. I'm sorry to have wasted it.”

“No worries, my friend. If there is even a possibility that someone is in danger, it's never a waste of time. I do have a theory, but if you want to know what it is, you need to remember it's only a theory and don't get all worked up over something that may not have happened.”

“Tell me, Logan. I can take it.”

“There is - or should I say was – a very organized drug cartel in the city. They had only been here about three or four years. One of their mules came to us and told us everything he knew. He wanted out, but he knew that would mean his death if he left. We talked him into staying while we investigated and in return for that, he would get immunity. We were just getting ready to arrest the higher ups and all the mules that we knew about. We were going to pull our informant out first and put him in a safe house pending entry into the witness protection program, but he has disappeared. It seems that everyone that we know of who's involved with the cartel is missing.”

“You think Marissa is involved with them?”

“I don't know – her name isn't on the list of known mules, but it's very possible, from things you've told me. For example, her saying that her family would be in danger if she told you certain things. And her saying her boss doesn't allow her to have personal relationships – our informant told us the mules can't form friendships with anyone, including each other. They also cannot contact their families or anyone from their previous lives. The Cartel typically threatens their families to keep them in line.”

“Where do you think Marissa went, if she is indeed involved with them?”

“Once again, I don't know. It seems the whole lot of them has bugged out of Denver. We think that they got wind of someone coming to us and that we were close to making some arrests. So they took off, most likely to other cities. Your friend is probably alive, though I doubt our informant is. If they figured out who was feeding us information, they wouldn't allow him – or her – to stay in the Cartel and to turn the person loose obviously would not be an option. Chances are we will never find the body. These cartels are good at covering their tracks.”

“Can you find them in other cities and arrest them?”

“So far, we haven't been able to. Like I said, they are good. I suspect they change their aliases when they move to somewhere else.”

“Logan – one other thing - do you think they would have caused Marissa's disability?”

“I'm pretty sure they did – if she's involved with them, that is. Our informant told us they do that to some of the mules as someone with physical disabilities is less likely to have hassles at the border. They can't use disability when profiling a likely mule, as that goes against the Americans with Disabilities Act.”

“Thank you for trying, Logan. I owe you one.”

“You can take me out for a couple beer some night. And, Braxton – don't worry about your friend. If she's with this Cartel, they will treat her well as long as she does what they want. Apparently, it's not like the other ones and it treats it's mules decently.”

“If you can call having someone transport drugs 'decent'”, Braxton said with a cynical tone to his voice.

“You know what I mean.”

“I'm sorry, Logan. I'm just frustrated.”

“I know and here's a piece of unsolicited advice – forget about Marissa. You tried to get her to open up to you and she refused. I know she's afraid for her loved ones, but if she's involved with these people, I could have helped her had you brought her to me. I could have got the same deal our informant had – immunity from prosecution and witness protection if she testified against them. But she chose to stay with them.”

“She didn't know, Logan.”

“True, but still... she's gone now and I doubt you will hear from her again. Move on, my friend.”

Braxton knew that Logan was right. He needed to move on and forget about Marissa. But could he?

After the call from Logan, Braxton made the one he'd been dreading. He'd put it off long enough, it was time. Gael Brennan answered on the second ring. “Hello Gael, it's Braxton Jagger calling”, he introduced himself.

“Hi Braxton – I was going to call you in the next day or two. How's Marissa doing?”

“I'm afraid I don't have good news, Gael.” He heard a sharp intake of breath over the line. “Oh, don't worry, she's alive, but she's gone.”

“What do you mean 'gone'?”

“Gone out of Denver. I don't know where to. I was in Boulder dealing with a family emergency and when I got back home, there was a voicemail from her as well as a letter in the mail. She basically said goodbye. Her company transferred her.”

“And she didn't say where to?”

“No. She had told me she thought she would be transferred to another city.”

“You said she works in travel?” Braxton wondered where he was going with this.

“That's what she told me.”

“Maybe I'll call the agencies down there and find out which one.”

“I can save you the long distance fees, Gael. A friend of mine who's a detective did that and none of them have heard of her.”

“How can that be?” Braxton hesitated. Should he tell Marissa's father about the drug cartel? “Braxton? What aren't you telling me?”

“Some things are better not known”, he finally replied.

“No, it's always better to know. Please tell me.”

Braxton made a decision. Gael was right – it was better to know, even if it was not good news. “If I do, you need to keep in mind this is only speculation. We have no proof of anything.”

“I understand. Please tell me.” Braxton told him what Logan had told him about the Cartel and about how it was possible that Marissa was a mule for them. “Oh, no, Braxton – Marissa would never do something like that. She was raised better.”

“Like I said, Gael, it's all speculation right now, but if she is running drugs, she very well may have been forced into it.”

“I can't imagine Marissa being forced to do anything she doesn't want to do. She's very stubborn when she wants to be.”

“The Cartel is known to threaten people's families if they balk at doing something. Marissa has often said to me that she can't tell me something for the safety of her family. She loves all of you very much and wants to protect you.”

Gael sighed. “I would much rather we take our chances than my baby do something as vile as that. I'm pretty sure the rest of the family would say the same.”

“Most people would, Gael. But we have to look at it through Marissa's eyes. If someone said they'd kill her if you didn't do something you considered evil, what would you do?”

Marissa's father thought a moment. “You have a point there, Braxton. What can I do? How can we find her?”

Braxton hated it when he had nothing to suggest. “I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. We just have to wait and see if one of us hears from her. She did say in her letter that she would try to contact me to let me know she's all right.” He didn't tell him that she'd also said to not count on it. Why take the one remaining shred of hope away from him? “Gael, have you or any members of your family talked to anyone about Marissa?”

“What do you mean, Braxton? Of course we've told our extended family and friends about her disappearance.”

“I mean professionally.”

“Oh. No, we haven't. Why?”

“I think it would benefit you. Help you to deal with it. Please think about it. In the meantime, I will let you know if I hear from her.”

=========================================================

Marissa continued teaching the recruits. Her cast was finally removed and she had full use of her dominant hand again. It was a relief, but something had broken in her. Cara never told her what happened to Nola but she just knew the woman was dead and she couldn't get over it. Her nightmares got worse and now involved Nola and even her (Marissa's) family. When she woke up one morning on the floor, she knew she had to do something so she went back to see Dr Collins. He reassured her that anything she said to him would go no further. While she wasn't convinced of that, she had to take the chance if it meant an end to the dreams. She wondered how someone in his profession could work for the Cartel, but then realized that maybe he was being forced, too.

Even though her cast was off and she could go on trips again, she was told that they were keeping her there at the compound a while longer. The Cartel was expanding into Europe, so they needed more mules to work overseas. They were sending experienced people over there and recruiting more to work here at home. She didn't know which was worse – bringing drugs into the country or teaching people how to do it. Teaching was not physically uncomfortable, but it was emotionally hard on her. She felt she was enabling the Cartel, though she knew that wasn't the case – that she was only there because if she refused, they would take it out on her family and now, Braxton.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. The dreams continued, but were less frequent. She had to admit that her sessions with Dr Collins were helping – at least a bit. Her kidney stones gave her trouble from time to time when she would pass one or two. Other than at those times, she had no pain. She wondered when she would start to feel symptoms from the cancer and if it was spreading.

Finally, after she'd been at the compound almost six months, she was told she was being given the choice of whether to stay there and continue with training recruits or go back to doing drug runs. She chose the drug runs as she was itching to get out of the compound. She wasn't allowed outside it's walls, so she was feeling claustrophobic. A week after making this choice, she was on a plane to Seattle. Mark aka Brian must really have some influence, she thought, if he was the reason she was being transferred to his city.

He met her when her plane landed and took her to a restaurant for lunch and a chat. “Don't worry, Lydia – the restaurant is friendly to the organization. We will have our privacy.” They were seated in the back, away from the other diners. When they'd ordered, Mark gave her the goods on her new living quarters. “You will be sharing a two bedroom apartment with another worker. Her name is April, I think you will like her.”

“Why are you giving me a roommate?”

“I know how hard it's been on you to have to be so isolated from people and not able to form friendships. I'm hoping that having a roommate will help. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, I was just curious.” She did have a problem with it, but didn't dare say so. She would have preferred to have privacy in her living space. Being determined to get out of the Cartel, she wanted to be able to surf online and look things up without someone around.

“Good. It's a large apartment with spacious bedrooms and your own bathroom. We've put most of your furniture in storage, you can decide what to do with it. I'll give you a key to the unit. Your bedroom set is in the apartment – we figured you'd prefer to have your own as it's a nice set and the mattress is memory foam – that isn't cheap.”

“I saved up to get the set and I wanted a good mattress. What about the rest of my things?”

“They are in your room. You can decide what to keep or not of the household items. I'm surprised you had so many kitchen gadgets – you don't look like you eat very much.”

“I was hoping the small appliances like the crockpot would get me to cook more.”

“Why didn't you?”

“It's too much hassle. Actually, Braxton had suggested to me that I find an 'accessible' apartment – where the counters and everything are lower to make it easier to cook and clean from my wheelchair.”

“That was a good suggestion. If we ever have cause to get you another place, I will look for that. April might be willing to help you with cooking, why don't you ask her?”

“We'll see. I've gotten used to not eating much.”

“You need to be healthy, Lydia.”

“I take vitamins.”

“I'm glad of that. But you really should eat better. You mentioned Braxton - have you tried to contact him since leaving Denver?”

“No.”

“I have been instructed by my superior to search your phone and laptop at random intervals, just so you know.” Marissa's heart sank. She'd been seriously thinking of sending Braxton an email. “And if I find any sign of you contacting him or attempting to, consequences will be unpleasant for you and him. I don't like being the heavy, but the organization is my top priority. Now, let's get going. I'll take you to your new home.”

Mark was right – the apartment was nice and very spacious. April was nice but Marissa didn't trust her. Something seemed off with Mark having her live with someone else. That was not typical with the mules – they had their own apartments and were not encouraged to mingle. Something did not pass the sniff test with her.

After Mark left, April hovered over her like a mother hen, offering to help her unpack or run to the store for her or anything else she might need help with. Marissa politely declined and eventually was able to retreat to her room. The first thing she did was get her bedding out and make the bed. This took longer than 'normal' people due to her limitations. Next, she unpacked the suitcase she'd brought with her on the plane – except for what she put in that and a carry on bag, everything else that she'd had with her at the compound had been shipped with the things that had been in storage. She had had to live out of her suitcase the last few days in her suite there.

As she had done for the trip to New York, Marissa had packed the items Braxton had given her in her suitcase. She also had the clothing that he'd given her to wear the first day they'd met when he had dried her clothes for her, but she was taken to hospital by ambulance before they were ready. He still had those things of hers. She wasn't worried about it, she had plenty of clothes, but she felt guilty that she had kept forgetting to return his to him. As she had done at the compound, she put the dress and other items into a box and put the box in her closet. She was less paranoid about her room being searched here, but she was still uneasy with having a roommate.

There was no lock on her bedroom door, so she decided to remedy this. After she had the things unpacked that she wanted out for now, Marissa picked up her purse and exited the room. When she got to the apartment door, April saw her and asked “Where are you going, Marissa?”

“Just to get a few things”, she replied.

“Hold on, I'll come with you. I can help you shop.”

“Thanks, but it's okay. I can do it.”

“It's no trouble. I'll just change my clothes into something half decent.”

Marissa cursed under her breath. She did not want a chaperone! When she heard April's bedroom door close, she opened the apartment door and left as quietly as she could. On the ground floor, she went to the back entrance, where there was a pathway to the street behind them. She walked along it to the next street where she found a bus stop to sit at while she waited for a cab. If April went down to the ground floor looking for her, hopefully she would not think to go around to the back of the apartment building.

While she really wanted to go to the library and use a computer there to send Braxton an email, she was concerned about being followed. She wasn't normally a paranoid person, but right now, she was on edge. So she went to the hardware store instead and bought a door knob that locked, as well as a Phillips screwdriver. Next, she picked up some crackers and then headed home. April was not happy that she had skipped out on her.

“Why did you leave?” she asked, an accusatory tone to her voice.

“I wanted to go alone.”

“Why?”

“I'm used to being alone. We aren't supposed to have roommates or friendships.” Marissa headed for her room, where she took the door knob off and installed the new one. She had to sit down on the chair she sat on to get dressed as she needed both hands to do it. April watched.

“Why are you doing that?”

“It has a lock on it.”

“You don't trust me.” It was a statement, not a question.

“It's nothing personal, April. I don't know you. You should have a lock on your door, too. Not that I would go in your room, but you would have peace of mind.”

Mark sent her on a trip after she'd been in Seattle a few days and had settled in. “I'm only sending you for a weekend your first time back”, he told her. “And you won't be bringing as much product home. I'll ease you into it, like I did when you first started with us.”

Thus began her return to doing drug runs. She hated it with every fibre of her being and fervently wished for a safe way out.