Chapter 16

Aboard the Wahoo, Dr. Lunt's virtual image of Lt. Tracy Parker had momentarily flashed on the monitor. That was at 0445. Already, Cmdr. Diego had moved the boat from the primary rendezvous point to the secondary location, but only 3 mile offshore. Diego didn't want to live with the consequences of being out of range of a tired and potentially injured fellow officer in her time of need. "I know we're close in," he had snapped at his CPO, Louise Boyd. "But, I want to giver her as much of a chance as possible." He still keenly felt a sense of guilt about the deaths of Monroe and McKeeson in the previous 2 missions; if only he'd been closer. Perhaps, there was something he didn't do. He looked at Dr. Lunt and Dr. Selig intently, probingly. "What are they seeing," he thought to himself.

Dr. Lunt was upset. The image of the virtual Tracy had been frozen for 15 minutes. The last image was of Tracy with her arms outstretched; on the monitor, it looked like a perverted crucifix -- the smooth computer-generated figure of a naked woman. But, what was of great concern to Dr. Lunt was the last indication of vital signs. They were impossible. "It has to be an error," she nervously told an equally concerned Dr. Selig. They both knew there had been some malfunction of the implant. But, what was now displayed was a heart rate that had jumped to 3 times normal and irregular while the blood pressure had sunk to 40% below normal. Then there was the image; it couldn't be real. Other readings indicated extreme pain and injury. Superimposed on the frozen virtual image, the information on all vitals flashed in red. "It's not right," Dr. Selig concluded. In his mind, he couldn't accept that another beautiful woman had died. But, Dr. Lunt looked at the incomplete and inconsistent information and presumed the worst. Her eyes became hot and her vision blurry. "Not again," she breathed to herself, closed her eyes and bowed her head.

The rest of the crew were concerned. No one said anything. The humid, stale air made everyone feel that much more nervous and uncertain. Unlike nuclear submarines, the Wahoo had to surface routinely; not only to exchange air and recharge batteries, but also because the cramped environment was so brutal to human minds. Low ceilings, narrow passageways, dark lights and minimal comforts and privacy could take its toll -- especially on a crew so wound up over concern for another person. In the Navy, Diego noted as he watched the hushed faces of his crew, they were all brothers and sisters; and this was beginning to be too much.

"Forget her and just dump her at sea!" Aziz turned and ordered the 2 terrorists dragging Tracy's body towards the corner of the warehouse and a hose. They looked at each other. "But, Jamal," inquired the fat one, "don't you want the pictures?" Aziz had had pictures taken of the other 2 women before he had disposed of the remains. The fat terrorist was Soo, a Chinese mercenary; the other, younger and more handsome was the Canadian, Mike Kent. He had fought all over the world and in many uniforms; but, Aziz's outfit had paid the best and was the most secure -- until tonight.

By the hand of the dead woman he now held by a left foot, he had lost 4 friends and 1 lover. Omar, Tony, Pepe, and Les had all been in various outfits with him over the years; they all died first in the hallway. The thin brunette in the bomb room and he had been lovers for 2 months. She knew a lot about sex and was a lot of fun; he even found her fun to be with in regular moments. So, Mike Kent had no problem with just throwing away the body. He didn't care much for washing dead women anyway. "Jamal?" Soo asked again. Aziz stopped to think.

"Okay, wash her and give me a picture. But, nothing more. After that take her out on the North side and throw her to the sharks. Go 3 or 4 miles. That way she'll never wash ashore. They don't deserve to get her back." Aziz angrily turned and walked down the stairs and stopped by Leta's small, bloody corpse. He shook his head. "This was not your fault, Leta," he said quietly. "You did well; you shot her, we killed her, and you are avenged." He took the toe of his boot and nudged Leta's head. It lolled to the other side. Reaching down, he picked her body up under the shoulders. As he did, blood oozed thickly from her mouth and a bubbling noise and murmur came from her dead throat. Aziz dragged the girl's body towards the anteroom.

Inside, Aziz found that Khalid and his 3 companions' bodies had been removed -- probably to the far end of the underground complex and the incinerators. Only Justine's cold and stiffening body remained. He let Leta down gently, making sure her head touched the sticky, foul-smelling floor softly. Leta's dead eyes were still open, her mouth still slowly discharging thick fluid. Aziz looked at them lying dead, side-by-side. Justine wasn't as good as the American; Leta was too young. He nudged Justine's head with his toe. Stiffened in death, it resisted. All around, the blood dried very slowly; the heat making everything stink more. Aziz stepped on through to the indoor pool. "I need to bathe," he told himself as he stiffly moved his injured arm.

Soo looked at Kent and shrugged. He came back, bent over and picked up Tracy's right foot. "Come on," he motioned to the corner. "Let's get the pictures and get rid of her. Kent frowned at the dead body of Tracy and started dragging, too.

In the corner, they looked back and saw the trail of blood. Tracy had only been dead 5 minutes, so her body was still very relaxed and soft. Soo looked at her. "Look at her tits," he smiled and pointed. Tracy's nipples were still fully extended. No bullets had struck them although many had come close; they still ran freely with reddish, milky fluid. Her breasts were still very full and tight, too; a result of the pills. Kent looked at the rest of Tracy's body as it lay in bloody repose on the floor. Her chest was a Swiss-cheese of bullet holes; every wound oozed blood. The same was true for almost every square inch of her body to mid-thigh. "Did you notice how she didn't die straight away?" Kent noted. "She must of suffered, the bitch. Oh well, Soo. Help me get her up on the hook. Ready?" Kent and Soo lifted Tracy from under her shoulders and sat her up. Her head fell forward. The set, dead eyes didn't move; the long lashes shaded them unblinkingly. Only Tracy's mouth showed any signs of movement as the jaw relaxed allowing the tongue to hang freely out of her bloody mouth. Dark blood oozed out and over her already bloody chest. In a clumsy move, the 2 men lifted her totally limp body to its feet and lifted her up. Blood splattered on the floor as the new position allowed more fluid to find its way out through the many new openings in her body. Even though she weighed less than 120 lbs. now, the 2 terrorists had trouble negotiating the dead weight high enough to hook on the meat hook suspended from the ceiling. Tracy's head fell back and to the side as Soo and Kent struggled with the limp form.

Finally, with a sickening crunch, Soo and Kent were able to impale Tracy's body on the hook. It sunk into the flesh just below the battered shoulder blades. Slowly, Tracy's corpse twisted slowly suspended from the hook. Soo lifted Tracy's head and propped it back slightly while partially closing her mouth. Kent grabbed the hose and turned the nozzle on. Water sputtered and then poured from the hose. Aiming a steady stream at Tracy, he started to hose off the blood. Tracy spun around as the water splashed over her remains. Water streamed off of her from the top of her head and past her relaxed toes and long, tapered fingers; her bangs smoothed overher forehead and her pony-tail hung limply. Through the streams of water, the wounds still bled leaving diluted, bloody trails on her skin. Kent turned off the water and stepped back. Soo joined him. "She pretty, no?" Soo asked jokingly. "Yeah, she's pretty all right." Kent agreed. Even like this, Tracy caused the Canadian to harden. He licked his lips. In front of him was a perfect body even with all the bullet holes scattered all over her body -- equally in front, over the breasts which still sat up like half-globes on her battered chest, on her sides, arms, thighs, back and buttocks. Kent and Soo had each expended a clip on her before she finally fell over. And then Aziz let her have it with 15 or so rounds on top of that. She didn't seem to realize, it seemed to him, that she had walked into a trap of 7 of Aziz's followers. Of course, she looked like she had already been hit. But, they had all fired into her. And following orders, no one had hit her in the face or head. "Pretty good shooting, too." Kent said out loud. He walked over to Tracy and ran his hand up and down her thigh; he reached up and fondled one of her breasts. Looking directly at her, he read with difficulty the id marks: "Parker, Tracy, Lieutenant. US Navy, USN3-something-3. Well now, lady. Permission to feel you up?" Kent reached his hand under Tracy's vulva and fingered the soft labia. Inserting his fingers, he touched something hard and foreign. He stopped. "Hey, Soo. I found something in this bitch's snatch. What're you hiding in there now, lady?" Fingering the object, he finally caught it in between his 2 fingers and slowly withdrew it. It turned out to be a bullet -- bent and flattened, but whole. "Better watch what you fuck, ma'am," Kent laughed as he showed Soo what he found inside Tracy. Soo nodded as he snapped 2 Polaroid's in a row of the rapidly paling body.

After the photos, the 2 terrorists prepared to dump the body. Getting Tracy off the hook was more difficult than getting her on, it appeared to Soo. Kent grabbed Tracy around her midsection, his face very close to her crotch. He turned and smiled at Soo. "Look at this, will ya. I've got some dead pussy here!" Soo giggled like a pig. Lifting her straight up, Kent gave Soo the chance to jump up and pull the large hook out of Tracy's back; it made a sucking sound as it was withdrawn. Kent then allowed Tracy's body to fall over his left shoulder as he walked over to a wheelbarrow. Soo and Kent used the wheelbarrow to transport Tracy's corpse to a fast motor boat tied at the end of the dock. Tipping it, Kent allowed Tracy to slip into Soo's waiting arms and into the bottom of the boat. Kent undid the lines as Soo started up the engines. It was 0523.

On board the Wahoo, Dr. Selig was the first to notice that the location transponder in Tracy's damaged implant was beginning to register more strongly. The moment after, the sonar officer reported, "Con, SONAR! We've got a fast boat approaching, bearing 249 mark!" Diego woke up from his painful half-doze. Dr. Selig spoke up, "Commander, I think it's Lt. Parker. The transponder in her implant is becoming clearer." He looked at Dr. Lunt. She watched her monitor intensely. No change; no new information. Perhaps Dr. Selig was right. Perhaps, it was a malfunction. Dr. Lunt dared not hope. "Con, SONAR. It's a motor boat approaching at 24 knots. It'll be on our position in 10 minutes." Diego was considering his options. It could be Tracy; it could also be terrorists with a couple of depth charges. "Any active pinging?" Diego asked. "Negative, skipper," was SONAR'S reply. Diego decided to wait. The time started to drag.

On board the bouncing motor boat, Kent let the wet, salty air blow into his face. At this speed, the wind was much cooler than anyplace on the island. "Whew, Soo! This is a lot better," Kent noted the cooler air to an equally appreciative Soo. "It's cooler," Soo mimicked. On the deck, Tracy's body lay very still. Only her head rolled from side to side with each bump and bounce of the boat as it headed farther and farther out to sea. At about 2 and a half miles, Kent looked at Soo. Soo motioned with his head to the starboard side. There was a pile of Tracy's equipment, or what was left. Her battered and torn utility belt lay in a dirty mound with her bent and dented field knife and sheath. Among the battered effects were the remnants of mylar tape that had been wrpped around Tracy's waist, dented spare ammunition magazines, her broken torch, her watch and her submachine gun; it had been hit with several rounds and was useless. Kent threw the belt overboard with the other junk. Then he looked at the knife. "Nadia, this bitch killed you," Kent said to himself. With that, he took the knife and sheath in his right hand and walked over to where Tracy's body lay. Spreading her legs apart, he looked at the pale genital area; the vuvla was relaxed and the labia parted slightly allowing a small dribble of blood to continue to escape. Looking at that spot, he reached down and pushed the knife in as far as he could; it made a squishing sound as it was inserted. The Canadian pushed hard as he shoved the knife into Tracy until it was fully in her body, the end of the hilt protruding from between the lips of the genitals. Kent looked at Tracy and smiled. "Didn't I tell you to watch what you fuck, lady?"