The Patient
By Submissive Romantic	



Edited by Michael-Leonard

A drug cartel accountant wakes from a coma to find his dreams were real.

Prologue:

The room was quiet and still. Gene lay in his bed staring blankly towards the
ceiling. The only sounds were his slow rhythmic breathing and the beep, beep,
beep of his heart monitor.

"Keep him clean and fed; make him comfortable and wait for the end," they had
told the head nurse.

It was his wife that couldn't let go. Her visits had become less and less
frequent, but she had left strict detailed instructions for his care. They had
been married nearly ten years when the "accident" occurred. She had been at
his bedside constantly as he recovered from his physical injuries. When the
doctors told her that there was nothing more they could do for him at the
hospital, she had him transferred to the long-term care facility. Money was no
object she had informed them and proved it by paying for his first year's stay
in advance.

All the doctors were convinced that he was in a permanent vegetative state.
They had long ago stopped his treatments. That was two years ago.

However, Gene was not a vegetable; he had dreams, wonderful dreams.

Chapter 1:

Emily couldn't have been happier.

Even though her relationship with her former boyfriend ended badly, she was
determined to move on and begin this new phase of her life. She had spent
eight years in the Army as a combat medic. Before that, after high school
graduation, she had worked in a nursing home. Frustrated with the lack of
professionalism there, she walked into a recruiter's office in Phoenix and was
told that a "health care specialist" job was available and that she would be
working in a hospital setting.

Of course, that's not exactly how it worked out. Shortly after her advanced
individual training she was told that she would be "deploying to Iraq as a
combat medic." Emily spent the next eight years keeping her male counterparts
healthy "outside the wire" in Kirkuk Province. Having returned from Iraq
healthy and whole, she considered herself lucky and left the service before
her luck ran out.

Soon, however, she found that everything was not as rosy as she thought. Her
career in the Army was not considered "suitable medical training" for a
position in civilian medical service. Undaunted she enrolled in school to
become a registered nurse. It was tough, but not as tough as going out on
patrols in the 115+ degree summers in Iraq.

Now, just recently graduated from nursing school -- and after applying for
over twenty nursing positions -- she had just landed her first job in her new
chosen career. The letter had come earlier in the day.

'Congratulations! We are pleased to offer you the position of staff nurse in
our Phoenix Long Term Care facility. Compensation and benefit levels were
previously stated during your first interview. Please return a signed copy of
this offer sheet and report for work on the fifteenth of the month for
orientation and shift assignment.'

Yes, she couldn't be happier.

________________________

"Ms. Harris, there's been a slight change in plans."

The head of HR looked both nervous and pleased at the beginning of her
orientation meeting. "One of our long term patients has just been released to
home care, at his wife's request. Mrs. Paldino has requested that we assign
one of our nurses to her as her husband's private duty nurse. Since you are
just beginning, you will be our employee working in her home. Your pay and
benefits will come directly from us. Of course, there will be an evaluation
period for the first month. If things don't work out, we will make every
effort to return you to this facility. Believe it or not, this may be a really
plum assignment; for the same compensation, instead of having twelve patients
to care for, you'll have only one. And from what I understand, the working
conditions will be a whole lot nicer. Here are the patient's medical records
and the address; please report there immediately. Good Luck."

Following the GPS directions on her cell phone, it took less than thirty
minutes for her to get to the northeast corner of Phoenix, but another fifteen
minutes to get through the security gate. The guard gave her a single sheet of
paper; on it was a simple map of the community with her destination circled in
red. The house sat in the center of what looked like a largely-forgotten
corner of the tract. She traveled for about a quarter of a mile on one paved
road, turned onto a second paved road, and then onto an unpaved driveway. A
hundred yards ahead, she could see two relatively unimpressive buildings; the
smaller of the two was a three-car garage, the larger appeared to be the side
of a large multi-level residence with a circular apron in front.

Emily parked directly in front of the large door and got out of her car. The
buildings and the desert vegetation surrounding them had the effect of
shielding the area from the other nearby houses. As she stood at the front
door, waiting for someone to respond to the doorbell, she couldn't help but
think that she was in the middle of nowhere -- and that this was no accident.

The door opened and an attractive athletically-built woman greeted her.
"Hello, I'm Lisa Paldino; you must be Emily Harris. Come in, please."

As the door shut behind her, Emily took in the great expanse of the living
space in front of her. The house was built split-level style, with a very open
floor plan and was tastefully decorated with a distinctively Old West flare.

"Did you have any trouble finding us? I know it can be quite a journey, even
though you never actually leave Phoenix. But where are my manners; come, let's
go to the kitchen and get better acquainted over something to drink."

Dressed in slim fit boot-cut jeans, a red plaid cotton shirt, and a pair of
Western boots, Lisa led the way from room to room towards the kitchen. If
Emily had been so inclined, she would have found Lisa highly desirable. Even
dressed as she was, her clothes probably cost more than Emily would be making
in a month.

"I have coffee, tea, water or soft drinks; or I could open a bottle of
Chardonnay? What can I get you?"

"I'll have whatever you're having," Emily said.

"Oh good," said Lisa reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out two
bottles of Dos XX Amber. "Do you want a glass?"

"It comes in one if I'm not mistaken."

A smile came to Lisa's face. "We're going to get along just fine."

For the next hour they got to know each other. For Lisa it was mostly a
confirmation of Emily's resume and employment application. Since Emily knew
nothing about Lisa, it was more of an introduction to these people she would
be working for. Over a second beer, information that doesn't appear in
resumes, applications, or in background checks was exchanged. They found out
that they were both native Phoenicians, born in the same year; both had been
only children, and both of their parents had died at an early age.

"Emily, I have one more question for you. It's highly personal and not
normally ever asked, but I have my reasons and I need you to answer as best
you can. "Are you experienced in your sex life; and as a follow up question,
are you straight?"

Emily sat back in her chair, sure that her cheeks were bright red. She had not
expected anything like that.

"Well, yes, I've had several boyfriends over the years and sex has been a part
of those relationships. Plus, there were several casual relationships in Iraq
-- more of a mutual release of pent up emotions and stress than romances. I've
only had sex with men, and have no intensions of ever having sex with another
woman. That would go against the tenants of my religion and how I was raised.
I hope that answers your question."

"Yes, it does; thank you for sharing that information with me."

After they each finished their beers, Lisa stood. "I think it's time that I
introduced you to your patient. Follow me."

She led the way back through the dining room and turned up the stairs to the
second floor with Emily close behind.

"There are four bedrooms up here, our bedroom suite is down this hallway, the
other three are down that way; each has its own bath and walk-in closet. This
first one is a guest room, this one will be yours, and this one is Gene's."

The room was bright, the result of having two large windows. A couple of easy
chairs were on one side of the room. In the center of the large blank wall at
the far end of the room sat a large, fully adjustable hospital bed. On the
bedside table was an array of medical equipment, including a heart monitor,
and a wireless EEG machine. On the other side of the bed, mounted to the wall,
was a swivel-arm frame holding a feeding drip bag.

Her patient was resting comfortably on the bed, his unclothed torso visible
above a sheet covering him to the waist. He had the body of an athlete. His
medical record noted that he'd been in an accident and, although she was sure
that the two years of inactivity had caused some deterioration of his muscle
mass, he was very pleasing to the eye. The head of the bed was raised about a
foot higher than the rest of his body. His hair was dark and short, most
likely buzz cut, as was his beard. This also facilitated the sensor array for
the wireless EEG. Lisa moved closer to the bed and pulled down the sheet
exposing the rest of his nakedness.

"I found this to be the easiest way to keep him clean," she said casually. "As
you can see, I use a bed pad to catch any messes, but because he's only taking
in the small amount of fluids and nutrients that his body requires in this
state, he seldom makes a mess."

Emily was barely paying attention to her; her attention was focused on his
genitals. Although Gene was not a large man, his penis was huge. Even after
eight years in the Army, he was the largest man she had ever seen. His cock
was long and thick, hanging over his equally impressive balls until its head
rested on the bed. Her mind wandered for a moment; a vision of her last
boyfriend's less-than-spectacular equipment flashed through her mind.

"The job won't be too difficult; I would like you to keep him clean and
comfortable, monitor his heartrate, blood pressure, and any EEG activity. I
normally bathe him once a day; I hope the movement and the changes in
temperature will help stimulate his brain."

She abruptly pulled the sheet back up to his waist and turned to leave the
room. "Come I'll show you your room. They didn't tell you that you'd be living
here, did they? Those idiots, they can't think outside the box at all. They
should have told you to stop by your place and get your things. We can do that
now; we'll take my SUV, it will be faster and between the two of us we can get
the job done a lot quicker."

Lisa suddenly stopped herself and faced Emily. "That is, if it's OK with you
to live here."

"What about Gene?"

"Gene hasn't moved a muscle in over two years. He'll be fine for the next
couple of hours. Let's go."

Chapter 2

As she hung up the last of her clothes, Emily couldn't believe that she had
been living such a Spartan life-style. All she had was four pairs of jeans,
two pairs of dress slacks, one slinky black dress and a pair of black heels, a
dozen shirts and blouses, two pairs of athletic shoes, a pair of sandals, plus
half a dozen bras, and a dozen underwear in various colors and styles. Her
makeup and other toiletries barely covered the shelves in the medicine
cabinet, and her gym bag contained all of her gym clothes.

"Emily, we're the same size; please feel free to take anything you need from
my closet. I'm a bit of a clothes hound and I usually buy more than one of
everything I fancy. You'll probably find quite a few things in there that
still have the tags on them. Gene spoiled me rotten and I let him."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I doubt I'll be needed much of anything for a
while at least. I think I'll turn in early tonight; it's been an eventful
day."

"Please, go ahead, I completely understand. I'll look in on Gene before I turn
in. If you'd like, you can join me tomorrow in the gym at 6:00 for an early
morning workout. The gym is on the other side of the kitchen. Good night."

"Good night, see you tomorrow at six."

___________________

Emily woke promptly at 5:30; after taking care of her morning business she
quickly dressed in a sports bra, an Army T-shirt, a pair of shorts, and socks
and running shoes. After checking that everything was OK with Gene, making
especially sure that the sensors for his EEG machine were properly affixed to
his scalp and transmitting to the machine, she made her way down to the gym.
Lisa was already there, in a sports bra and shorts, running at a steady pace
on one of the two treadmills that stood side by side, facing out of a wall of
windows

"I already programmed the other treadmill. The adjustments are on the handles;
just press the green button and you're off and running."

As Emily began her workout, she couldn't help glancing over at Lisa's machine.
Lisa was already on her second mile and both her pace and incline were greater
than Emily's.

"Don't try to be a hero just to impress me, adjust it to your fitness level.
After all, it's only your first day here; I've been doing this for ten years.
When I first married Gene, I had never broken a sweat before, let alone be
able to keep up with him. It took a long time before I could keep up with him.
It was even worse on the strength machines and free weights, but after a while
I managed to at least make a good show of it."

Emily looked her over and was very impressed. Lisa's arms and shoulders
appeared to be, if not packed with muscles, sculpted and well-defined. Her
legs were long and solidly-formed, gliding her easily through her workout.

After fifteen minutes, Lisa's machine began her cool down; Emily's continued
for another five minutes and then began its cool down. Emily was a little
winded, but it felt good. After a minute, she joined Lisa at the first of a
circuit of training machines. There were five machines in all; four were
designed for the upper body, the last for the body's core.

Here they worked out together, Lisa setting the weights and Emily working in
at the same level. Emily more than held her own in their friendly competition;
her upper body strength had developed over eight years of lugging equipment
around and carrying men wounded in battle. That and, when things were slow,
competing with the young, macho soldiers on the base in their makeshift gym.
On each piece of equipment, she was able to out lift Lisa by at least twenty
pounds.

On the free weights it was no contest; Lisa had to acknowledge that she just
could not keep up with Emily and concentrated more on form than on amount of
weight. In the end they were laughing and shaking hands; a powerful bond was
beginning to form between the two women.

"Gene will really like you when he finally meets you," Lisa said with just a
touch of sadness.

They left the gym and headed upstairs to their rooms and a much-needed shower.
Emily felt a touch of sadness as well, thinking that Lisa was maybe being
overly optimistic in her assessment of Gene's eventual recovery. She had been
taught that most of the time the longer these things went on the less likely
they ended well.

She hoped in this case her instructors were wrong.

After her shower, she dressed and checked on Gene. Finding his feeding bag
nearly empty, she removed it, got a new one from the refrigerator in his room,
and hung it on the its frame re-connecting the feeding tube. When she was
satisfied with the flow, she went down to the kitchen for breakfast.

During breakfast Lisa asked, "How's Gene, everything normal?" Without waiting
for a reply she continued, "I want you to give him a bath after breakfast.
Then we'll get together to go over his treatment. Be sure to document
everything you do on the daily sheet. It's for your own protection as well as
Gene's. We don't want anybody coming back to us accusing us of malpractice or
patient abuse."

After breakfast, Emily returned to Gene's room and noted the approximate time
that the feeding bag was changed and the rate of flow, which she should have
done earlier. She chastised herself for her lack of discipline, vowing to
improve. Then she gathered the items she would need for his sponge bath: a
metal bowl of warm sudsy water, a washcloth, and a towel. She had done this
dozens of times before during her training. She began with his head. With a
damp soapy washcloth, she cleaned his face and his neck and then started on
his left arm, taking note of the two surgical scars one on his shoulder and
the other on his forearm.

'Those must have been the result of his accident,' she thought as she began to
scan the rest of his body. He had a scar on his right thigh as well; but none
of the scars seemed serious enough to have caused his coma. What intrigued her
most was the round scar about the size of a quarter, on his chest. Her
suspicions were confirmed a short time later when she rolled him on his side
to clean his back and discovered a corresponding larger scar there.

'That's an exit wound; this man was shot, and by the size of both wounds it
wasn't by a twenty-two.'

She finished his legs and was just about to empty the bowl and leave, when she
realized that she had skipped something. Emily wasn't sure if it was due to
her distraction from the discovery of the bullet wounds, or if it was her
subconscious response to his nakedness.

'You're acting like a first year student. Just do it, it's just another part
of his body.'

After rinsing out the washcloth, she took his cock in her left hand and gently
lifted it to give her better access to his balls. As she carefully washed him,
she became aware of the rhythmic pulsing of blood surging into it. Shocked,
her eyes quickly focused on his elongating member still firmly in her grasp
and just as quickly refocused on his face. He still appeared to be sleeping
just as he always was. Her gaze shifted to the EEG monitor next to his bed;
there was a marked increase in the electrical activity in his brain.

"Oh my God," she yelled as she practically ran out the door and down to the
kitchen.

Lisa was just finishing the breakfast dishes when Emily entered the kitchen.

"Lisa come quickly, he's coming to, he's..."

"Got an erection? I figured it would happen. I'm sorry I didn't tell you
before, I guess I just wanted to see your reaction."

"This has happened before?"

"All the time, I'm afraid. You stay here, I'll see to him. I'll be back in a
few minutes and we can talk."

When Lisa left the kitchen Emily walked over to the coffee machine, poured
herself a cup, and brought it to the kitchen table. Fifteen minutes later Lisa
returned, still buttoning the last of buttons of her shirt.

"That was good," Lisa said as she poured herself a cup and joined Emily at the
table.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't be so cavalier about it. But you see that's the main
reason why I pulled Gene out of that facility and brought him home. They were
too straight-laced over there to try anything new. They told me that the best
thing for Gene's recovery was to talk to him, to read to him; that that would
help stimulate his brain. They didn't know Gene like I know him. Gene loved
sex; he thrived on it. For him it wasn't just a part of our love for each
other, it was a release valve from the pressures of living the life he did.

"When I told the doctors that I felt that having sex with him would be the
best treatment for his recovery, they laughed. When they realized that I was
serious they scoffed and said there was no way that they could have their
staff do such a thing. When I offered to come there at night a couple times a
week, they just shook their heads and said that they couldn't have a patient's
treatment turn the facility into a whorehouse.

"That's when I had them begin their search for a qualified caregiver. That's
when I chose you."

Shocked even more, Emily exclaimed, "And you want me to make love with your
comatose husband, under your roof, while you're here?"

"Don't make it sound like a full-blown 'ménage a trois' for heaven's sake. You
can start out slowly if you want; just a hand job at first and then you can
progress from there. We can take turns, if you like. Please, I'm begging you,
do it for Gene's sake. I've got to get him to regain consciousness."

Emily sat quietly, thinking of all the reasons why she should refuse. This
went against everything she had ever been taught at home, in school, and her
understanding of her faith. Before she answered Lisa's question she had one of
her own.

"Gene didn't have an 'accident,' did he?"

Startled at the change in direction that the conversation was taking, it was
Lisa that remained quiet, deciding just how far she should go with her
explanation.

"No, Gene didn't have an accident; he was the victim of an assassination
attempt."

"ASSASSINATION!"

"Yes. Gene worked for the Government. He was part of a multi-bureau task force
investigating the 'El Jefe' drug cartel. It was his assignment to infiltrate
the organization, become integral to the financial part of their enterprise,
and pass along information to his contacts in the D.E.A. and F.B.I. My husband
is an international money manager by profession. His job for the cartel was to
make the mountains of cash that flowed through the organization first appear,
and then disappear without a trace. From what I understand he was very good at
his job."

"Wait, why would they want the cash to 'first appear and then disappear'; why
not just make it disappear in the first place?"

"Believe it or not, it's very difficult to spend cash, especially in the vast
amounts that we are talking about. In order to make it disappear, you first
have to get it into the banking system. In this country, cash transactions are
monitored closely. Anything over $10,000 is reported automatically to the
authorities. Gene had ways of getting the cash into the banking system without
bringing it to anyone's attention."

"Couldn't they just make deposits under $10,000?"

"No. First of all, individual banks track that as well; a pattern would be
easily discovered. Besides, I'm sure you've been to the bank; how long does it
take to make a single deposit? Now multiply that by a thousand, every day.
Gene could somehow get it done on a daily basis.

"Once in the system, the funds were transferred into various businesses. From
what little he told me, one of his favorite moves involved real estate and
fictitious mortgages. The end result was that the money ended up in numbered
bank accounts all over the world. Gene's fee was 1 percent of the gross, which
was a great deal more than he was getting from the government, believe me.

"Gene's office was in Nogales, Arizona. He would stay there during the week
and come here on weekends. He and 'El Jefe' -- Gene wouldn't tell me his real
name -- grew up together in Mexico. It was why he was able to get into the
cartel in the first place."

Lisa paused to take a breath, and then began the tale.

"We were on vacation in Jaco Beach, Costa Rica when it happened. We had
checked in late in the day and were informed that our room was no longer
available. We told the woman at the front desk that we had a confirmed
reservation, and she called for the manager. After a review of their records,
he apologized for the error and gave us a corner suite on the top floor at no
additional charge. In addition, he gave us a chit for a couple of free
cocktails at the bar so they could make sure that the room was in absolutely
perfect condition and said he'd make sure our bags are there when we arrived.

"After our drinks, we went up to the room; everything was perfect, the bed was
even turned down for us. When his phone rang, Gene stepped out on to the
balcony while I went into the bathroom. I had just come outside, Gene was
standing with his back to me at the railing , talking softly on his phone,
when I saw a small flash of light on the roof of a building that turned out to
be nearly a mile away. I turned towards Gene just in time to see him go over
the railing."

"Oh my God, you saw it happen!"

"Not quite, but almost. Without thinking I ran to the railing and looked down.
We were five stories off the ground; I couldn't see him because of all the
vegetation that was growing on the side of the building. When I ran down
there, I found him on the ground bleeding from his wounds and busted up from
falling through some tree branches. Between that and the wet ground that he
fell into, that's what probably saved his life. That and his cell phone. I
found that a few feet from his body. The case had an inch-long crease on the
back. The doctor said later that the bullet missed his heart by a quarter of
an inch. I like to think that the bullet was deflected by the phone.

"Luckily I didn't panic; I knew there was a chance that his assassin was still
out there. I rode with Gene to the hospital. The EMS people were great, they
kept him alive until we got to the emergency room. He was immediately taken
into surgery, while I was left to speak with the police. I explained what
happened as best I could and told them I felt he was still in danger so they
agreed to place a guard outside the intensive care unit if he survived.

"In the meantime, I spread a little of our vacation money around and contacted
a local funeral home. We made arrangements for 'Gene's body' to be picked up
the following morning from the hospital morgue and taken directly to a waiting
private jet that I was able to book; no questions asked. It was a very long
night. First, four hours in surgery, basically to close the bullet wounds and
make sure there was no internal bleeding, and to insert pins into the bone
breaks in his shoulder and his leg. Then he was put into a medically-induced
coma and taken to the intensive care unit to monitor his vitals for any
indications of internal injuries from his fall. The surgeons spoke to me in
private. They assured me he was stable for the moment and that he was very
lucky; it seemed that the bullet had passed clear through his body virtually
intact and had done comparatively little damage.

"So, the next morning, after an Academy Award-quality performance, I
accompanied a travel coffin full of old medical forms and assorted other trash
as it was wheeled out of the morgue and into a waiting hearse. I had the
driver stop at our hotel to get our bags, which had been brought down to a
room off the lobby, and we went to Juan Santamaria International Airport.
After 'Gene' was loaded into the plane we took off, landing at Sky Harbor
International in Phoenix early in the afternoon, and two days later, after a
simple graveside ceremony, we buried 'Gene'. If you ever go to Holy Redeemer
Cemetery in Phoenix, you'll find a headstone inscribed with the family name
Vasquez. There is room for two first names, Genero, born 1/18/1982 - died
4/15/2018 and Lisa, born 12/11/86.... No one will ever be buried there."

After a pause, Emily asked Lisa, "How did you get Gene out of there?"

"Right after the burial, I flew back to Costa Rica, praying the whole time
that Gene was still alive. When I arrived at the hospital, I found Gene just
as I had left him. The doctors were still concerned that there was only
minimal brain activity, but were encouraged by the continuing improvements in
his vital signs. A policeman was still standing guard outside the IC unit. He
must have called his boss because twenty minutes after I got there, the
detective I had talked with the night of the attack showed up."

"Come with me, we have to talk."

"At the end of the hall was an outdoor patio. Sitting under the shade of large
tree, he lit a cigarette."

"We were able to find the location where the sniper made his shot. Your
husband was extremely fortunate; as best as we can determine, the sniper was
good, but not a professional. There was half a pack of cigarette butts and a
spent cartridge at the scene. That's not much to go on, but it's a lot more
than a professional would have left behind. A pro would have taken a head
shot, and would have made sure that Gene was dead. This guy assumed that if
the shot didn't kill him, then the fall surely had; he was more concerned with
his escape."

"Do you think he will come back to check?"

"I don't think so. I took the liberty of leaking to a reporter for the largest
paper in the country, that an American was murdered at the hotel that night.
But to be safe I think you should get your husband out of the country as soon
as possible. "

"That's my plan. As soon as I can get his doctor to release him I plan to get
him back to America."

"Good, because I can't leave an officer here any longer."

"Thank you for the information and all your help. If you'll excuse me I have
arrangements to make."

By late afternoon, she had all but the most important part of her plan in
place. It was Gene's doctor that was the holding up their escape.

"Mrs. Vasquez, I really don't recommend that your husband be moved. He has
suffered an extreme trauma, and shouldn't leave the hospital.'

"Doctor, my husband was the target of an attempted assassination; he's in more
danger here than he would be at home. And frankly, the danger extends to you
and the rest of the staff while my husband remains here."

"I didn't know that. How do you plan to get him out of the country?"

"The less you know the better. What I need from you is to sign his release,
and to give me the name of someone who can accompany us on the first leg of
our journey."

"I can do that and would be honored to accompany you myself. When would you
like to leave?"

"You release him now while I make a few calls."

Thirty minutes later a private ambulance pulled up to the emergency room
entrance. Ten minutes later a patient, a doctor, and a very concerned wife
climbed into the back.

It was nearly two in the morning when the ambulance pulled into the marina.
All was quiet and dark, save for one craft that was alight.

"What are we doing here?"

"This is the end of the first phase of our trip. Now we travel by boat."

"Where are we going; not too far I hope?"

"No, not too far; I'll tell you when we get there."

The crew of the party boat and the doctor carefully loaded Gene's gurney onto
the boat while Lisa paid the ambulance driver. The trip across the bay would
take a little over three hours, mainly because the doctor recommended that
they try to keep the trip as smooth as possible.

About half way across the bay Lisa excused herself and went on deck to speak
with the captain.

"Captain, I have a favor to ask. Can one of your crew keep the doctor below
deck when we land? I don't want him to know where we've landed."

"Si Señora, no problem; we have a secure storage room below deck."

"I don't want him hurt in any way, he's been a great help to me. I'm trying to
protect both him and us. You can let him out when you get away from land. One
last thing: it would be helpful if you and your crew had a good story to tell
about bringing us to some other destination."

Money changed hands and Lisa returned to her husband. Half an hour later, two
members of the crew came below deck to look for something in the storeroom.
When Lisa's back was turned she heard a short scuffle and turned in time to
see the doctor being hustled into the storeroom. Within seconds the padlock
was fastened and the door secured. Moments after that there were shouts and
the banging of fists coming from behind the door.

"Doctor, please relax; this is for your own good. I don't want you to know
where we are going. No one's going to hurt you, and you'll be released in a
couple of hours. Just find a place to sit, it will be all over soon. I want to
thank you for all your help. There will be a substantial bonus waiting for you
when you get out."

When they landed the crew carried the gurney off the boat and placed it on the
dock.

"Señora, are you sure you don't want us to wait with you?"

"No Captain, it's better that you leave immediately. You don't want to know
anything else. Thank you, and don't forget to let the doctor out."

As soon as the boat was out of sight an old Chevy pickup pulled up next to the
dock and two men got out. They quickly loaded the gurney onto the bed of the
truck and secured it with ropes. Lisa climbed in back with her husband and
they proceeded slowly to the small airfield nearby. The drive was only a
couple of miles.

The sun was just beginning to light the morning sky when they arrived. There
were no lights coming from the single small building that occupied one corner
of the clearing. One paved runway, a little wider than a single-lane road, ran
the length of the clearing seemingly disappearing into the bay. A small
2-motor cargo plane stood idling, waiting for its cargo to arrive.

They loaded the gurney onto the plane and secured it to the frame. The two men
got back into the truck and drove away. Then the pilot revved the engines and
the plane shot forward. Lisa sat next to the pilot nervously looking out the
front window as the distance between the bay and the plane began to shrink.
Suddenly the ground noise ceased and the plane began to climb. When they had
achieved the proper altitude the pilot banked the plane towards the rising sun
and they headed for their last stop: Panama City, Panama.

______________________

"Lisa, I can't believe this. It sounds like something out of an Indiana Jones
movie. How long did you stay in Panama City?"

"About two weeks. I got him into an extended care hospital on the outskirts of
the city. They took great care of him, but I wanted to get him back home as
soon as possible. I didn't believe anyone was looking for us. I thought I had
covered our tracks as best I could under the circumstances, but you never know
for sure until it's too late. I remembered what Gene had told me about a money
trail. He always said you had to have a cut out: a blank space in the trail,
where anyone following the money would suddenly come to the end of the trail
and have nowhere to turn.

"We came back on a private jet and had a lengthy stay in the hospital, during
which time several more surgical procedures were done to properly set his
fractured bones. They told me that there was nothing more they could do for
him until he regained consciousness, so I checked him into the long-term care
facility in Phoenix. You know the rest."

Chapter 3

A couple of weeks went by and Lisa and Emily's relationship was fast becoming
more than just employer and employee. Emily overcame her reluctance and
implemented Lisa's very unorthodox treatment of Gene's continued deep coma. At
first they had taken turns, but as Emily became more comfortable, she had
stopped asking Lisa to take over. In just the last couple of days, she had
moved on from hand jobs and had now included oral in his treatment.

Although she had had several boyfriends in the past, oral sex had never been
part of her lovemaking. With her last boyfriend, in fact, it had been his
insistence on her "giving him head" that eventually led to their breakup.
Emily wasn't exactly sure why, but this didn't bother her. Maybe it was that
she knew he was clean, or that she was in complete control of the situation,
or maybe it was thrill of taking his impressive erection as far as she could
into her mouth.

One day, after their workout, Lisa and Emily were sitting in the kitchen
enjoying a cup of coffee; when Lisa said matter of factly, "You passed your
thirty day evaluation."

Without thinking Emily replied, "How do you know; I haven't heard anything?"

"Because I'm the one who passed you; they never really had any say in the
matter."

After getting themselves a second cup, there was a long period of silence. To
Emily, Lisa seemed a little preoccupied.

"Emily, I have a problem; it's rather serious, and you are the only one who
can help me."

"Lisa you know I'd do anything for you; just ask."

"Emily, I'm sick. I mean really sick; in fact, I'm dying."

"Oh Lisa, what's wrong? How can I help?"

"I've been diagnosed with ALS. In fact, a very nasty variant form of ALS.
Respiratory Onset ALS only accounts for 3% of all the cases of the disease and
is more commonly found in males; I guess I'm just lucky. I've known about it
for several months. At first I couldn't believe it. There were no symptoms,
just the blood test results. I thought it was a mistake, but a second test
came back positive for the disease. My doctor said that the symptoms would
start showing themselves in the very near future and once they did, their
progression would be quick. The median survival rate is less than a year and a
half. I've begun to show signs of the disease, and before it incapacitates me
I want to get my life in order."

"Oh Lisa, I'm so sorry for you; how can I help?"

"Please, let me explain everything before you agree. I'm going to be asking a
lot of you.

"First, there's Gene to consider. I want you to continue being his caregiver
for as long as he lives.

"Second, and probably the most important, is our financial situation. Because
we never had any kids and we were both only children without any living
parents to consider, we never had wills made. If a married person dies without
a will, all of their assets go to their spouse. That was fine with us because
we only had each other. Our present health situations now create a major
problem. For me it's no big deal; I'm still capable of making a will and
leaving my money to whomever I want. Gene, however, can't do that in his
present condition. If he dies first, again, no big deal, all his assets go to
me and become part of my estate. But if I die first my assets are transferred
to my beneficiaries. But then, if Gene dies without ever regaining
consciousness, he'll have no will, and everything he owns will go to the
state. I figure Gene's estate, including all of his cash, stocks and bonds and
the two houses, is somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred and fifty
million dollars. I can't let that happen; Gene worked too hard and lived such
a danger-filled life to see everything go to the State of Arizona. That's
where you come in."

"Me... Lisa, I'm just his caregiver, I've only known him for less than two
months."

"I know; but I picked you for a very specific reason. You look enough like me
to be my sister. We are about the same height, the same weight, and are the
same age, give or take a few months."

"But you don't have any sisters; you told me you were an only child."

"I'm not asking you to be my sister; she said quietly, "I'm asking you to be
me."

"What are you talking about; I don't understand?"

"I want us to trade identities. You will become Lisa Paldino and I will become
Emily Harris. I've been planning this since I first got Gene into that
long-term care facility, that's when I was first diagnosed with this dreaded
disease and realized what would happen if I died first."

"That will never work. You've already been diagnosed, you're in the system."

"So, as long as I don't go to the same doctor, who's going to know? I've
already done a lot of the research. I've lived in the desert all my life; I'd
really like to live out the rest of my life overlooking the Pacific. I found a
long-term care facility that sits on a bluff on the Oregon Coast. I'll move to
Brandon, using your driver's license and insurance card, and I'll get into the
system there. Once I'm diagnosed with ALS, I'll arrange to move into the
assisted-living portion of the facility. When I can no longer take care of
myself, I'll be moved into the long-term care section. I'll make arrangements
to have my body cremated when the end comes, and have my ashes scattered along
the coast, if that's OK with you."

"Lisa, you're crazy, how do you think you can get away with this? What will
you use for money; I certainly don't have that kind of money."

"Emily, of course you do, or will; you'll have my money. You will make the
deposit needed to guarantee the payments. I think a two hundred thousand
dollar deposit should do it. You'll still have plenty of funds available. The
money to cover the costs of Gene's care comes from a trust that was set up by
the courts. I had that done soon after we got back from Panama. Every month
your employer sends a bill to the trustee who pays it. He also sends me a
monthly stipend to cover the incidentals, the medical supplies, and fifty
percent of the housing costs for the house he's living in."

"Lisa, I don't know what to say. How would I pull this off? What happens when
I meet one of your friends? And what happens when Gene wakes up; how can I
possibly convince him that I'm you?"

"Emily, relax. We will have to educate you; we still have some time. Don't
make a decision right now. Please keep an open mind about this. The first
thing we're going to do is move. It's nearly the time when those that can, go
elsewhere to escape the brutal heat of the summer season. We'll move to my
house in Sedona. You'll love it."

_____________________

It was a very long night for Emily. What had she gotten herself into? Two or
three times during the night she got out of bed and entered Gene's room to
check on his condition. Seated in one of the easy chairs, in the ambient light
of the monitors she could just barely see his ruggedly handsome face.

Could she allow herself to 'die'? What would be the consequences of her
'death'? She had no close friends other than those from the service; and they
were scattered all over the country. She really didn't know any of the kids
that she had gone to nursing school with. She had been ten years older than
they were and had witnessed far too many of the horrors this world could heap
on the weak, to involve herself in their self-centered lives. What Lisa was
offering her was a chance to be born again; this time into a world of wealth,
and the security that came with it. All she had to do was take up the
challenge to attain it.

'Gene, are you ever going to wake up; and if you do, will you remember
anything from before? Could you love me like you did Lisa... and are you the
type of man that I could love in return?' It was going to be a 'crap shoot',
but wasn't all life?

She awoke the next morning still sitting in the comfortable chair in Gene's
room. Sometime during the night she had made her decision.

_____________________

Two weeks later all the arrangements were complete. A half hour after it
arrived, a private ambulance left the North Phoenix house, proceeded by a
Mercedes SUV and followed by a Honda Civic. For the next two hours the caravan
traveled north on Route 17, climbing into the high country of northern
Arizona. After exiting the Interstate, they traveled another twenty minutes
along the two-lane state highway. Emily was driving the last car, struggling
to keep her eyes on the road in the midst of the landscape.

The red rock mountains lined the narrow valley as the road snaked its way
further north. There were scenic overlook parking areas, hiking trailheads,
and the ever-present high desert landscape. The road dipped into a ravine and,
after a sharp turn, climbed back out until, at the crest of the next hill
Emily's senses were overwhelmed by the majestic grandeur of the Bell Rock
formation and Court House Rock in the distance. The redness of the rock stood
in sharp contrast to the clear blue Arizona sky and the bleak brownish grey of
the desert floor. Soon after passing Bell Rock, Lisa's SUV made a right turn
and the others followed.

As they weaved their way through a pleasant neighborhood, Emily couldn't help
the feeling of disappointment that came over her. This was not what she had
expected based upon the living conditions at the Phoenix house. They turned
once again, this time on to Cougar Drive. Each house they passed was a little
bigger than the last, until they came to the end of the road, which morphed
into a driveway for the most gorgeous house she had ever seen. It was built in
the shape of a wide letter V; it was multi leveled, the outside and the roof
colored in contrasting shades of beige to blend into the desert landscape. The
property, that she could see, was meticulously landscaped and was surrounded
by short desert trees that shielded the house completely from the other houses
that bordered the large lot.

Lisa pulled into the large two-car garage and Emily did the same. They entered
from the garage and walked through the laundry room and kitchen into the great
room at the center of the house. While Lisa went to the front door to let the
two EMTs into the house, Emily's attention was focused on the large wall of
glass at the back of the house. On the other side of the glass was a large
concrete patio, outdoor furniture including several lounge chairs, a table, a
large umbrella, and four cushioned chairs. Beyond that glistened a very large
and inviting pool, with a circular spa, whose water spilled over into the
pool. But the most spectacular sight was the view of the Bell and Courthouse
Rock formations less than a mile away.

The EMTs maneuvered Gene's gurney into the bedroom, which had already been
converted into a long-term care room, placed him onto his bed, connected him
to his monitors, and started his feeding tube.

"Mrs. Paldino, if there is nothing else we can do for you, I guess we'll be on
our way. We have a long drive back to Phoenix."

"Thank you, gentlemen; you've been most helpful and very professional indeed,"
Lisa said, handing them each an envelope containing two crisp hundred-dollar
bills. While she walked them to the door, Emily checked that everything was
hooked up correctly and removed Gene's hospital gown.

"Lisa, Gene's all set, everything is back to normal. Looks like he came
through the move just fine."

"So, what do you think of the place?"

"It's spectacular! And that view is... unbelievable."

"I know; we couldn't believe that this lot was still available after the
builder had completed the other three houses. Gene and I jumped on it. I guess
because there was a downturn in the economy at the time. He gave us a great
price to not only buy the lot, but to build what he called his dream house.
You probably didn't realize it, but we are less than one hundred and fifty
yards from Route 179, the road we came in on. And even closer to the Bell Rock
Trail Head. I'll give you the tour of the house later. Let's get out of these
clothes and go swimming. Have you ever skinny-dipped before?"

Emily was shocked. Lisa had guessed that she had never skinny-dipped before,
not even as a kid. Now at the age of thirty-three, she would never have even
thought about it, especially in the company of another woman.

Lisa saw the anxiety on Emily's face. "Well, I don't suppose you have a
bathing suit readily available; all your clothes are still packed in your car
and I don't have a suit here. And anyway, you can't be wearing a suit if I'm
going to be naked; how fair would that be.

"Don't worry, you can wear Gene's robe when you're not in the pool; besides
the pool is completely shielded from the neighbors and from the road. Doing it
during the day adds an element of danger to the excitement of it. You'll see."

By the time Emily came out of her room, Lisa was already floating on her back
in the pool. There were two lounge chairs set up, covered with towels; Lisa's
robe was draped over one of the chairs. With all the courage she could muster,
Emily shed her robe, tossed it on her lounge, and walked to the edge of the
pool.

"My God, you're beautiful," Lisa exclaimed. "You're even more cut than I
imagined. Gene is going to eat you up."

A little embarrassed, Emily stepped off the edge into the deep end of the
pool. The water was refreshingly cool causing her nipples to become instantly
erect. Emily did a few laps to burn off some of her nervous energy. When she
finally stopped and let her feet touch the bottom, Lisa was only a couple of
feet in front of her.

"I only see one thing we have to take care of; Gene always likes me hairless.
There's a spa in town that can take care of that. We'll make an appointment
for you for the latter part of the week."

Involuntarily, Emily's gaze moved down Lisa's body. Her pussy was as bald and
smooth as a baby's behind.

"Come on, let's hit the hot tub."

Lisa stood, took Emily's hand, and the two ladies walked slowly across the
pool, up the stairs, and entered the hot tub. It was only then that Emily
noticed the wine cooler near the edge of the tub. Lisa opened the cooler and
asked, "Care for a glass of Chardonnay?" Not waiting for a reply, she reached
into the cooler, removed two wine glasses and an opened bottle, and poured
wine for two.

"This is what life is all about," Lisa said as they touched glasses. Just
then, sounds of laughter, seemingly very close, came from somewhere in the
desert, just beyond the trees.

Seeing a sudden look of alarm cross over Emily's face, Lisa quickly said,
"Relax, Emily; that's just a couple of hikers on the Bell Rock Trail. It's
just over there, about one hundred yards away. Sound tends to travel further
here in the desert. There isn't as much to dampen the noise as there is in the
city."

"Lisa, how is this going to work?"

"It's really very simple. When the time comes, we will exchange documents;
I'll take your driver's license and passport, if you have one, and leave you
mine."

"I've never gotten a passport. The only time I've ever left the country was
when I was in the Army. I traveled on Uncle Sam Air Lines, specifically in the
cargo hold of a Lockheed C-130 Hercules troop transport, first to Germany and
then on to Imam Ali Air Base in Iraq and came back the same way."

"That's even better than I expected. I won't need a passport where I'm
heading. I think I only have a couple of more years left on my passport. When
you renew it, all you'll have to do is send them a current picture of yourself
and the old passport. You can do the same thing with your driver's license.
Next time it's up for renewal, go to the DMV and have them take a new picture.
After that you're done; in the eyes of the government you will be me."

"What about fingerprints and DNA. I had to give both in the service before I
shipped out."

"I never thought of that. Easy enough; don't commit any crimes!" The absurdity
of this statement broke the tension and they shared a laugh. Lisa continued,
"And if you do, wear gloves and don't leave behind any DNA."

The laughter died and Lisa said, "Relax, it will all go smoothly; no one will
ever know. By the time I have to leave, you'll know everything you need to
know to fool anyone who knew me before."

They sat next to each other enjoying the warmth of the sun, working on their
tans and the bottle of wine.

"I don't know about you, but I've just about reached my limit of sunshine for
today. Let's dry off and go in the house. I'll shower while you take care of
Gene, then it will be my turn."

Emily had finished checking Gene's vitals and his drip bag, and had given him
his bath, with the usual results. Gene's erection was standing tall and proud.
She was just about to take care of that as well, when Lisa's parting statement
replayed in her brain. Not wishing to stand between the two, she left the
room.

'This robe is all I have to wear,' she thought as she turned from her empty
closet. 'I've got to get my things from the car.'

She was just coming back with the last of her things, when she heard noise
coming from Gene's room. Her automatic response was to check to make sure he
was all right. The door was still ajar and as she glanced in, what she saw had
her momentarily spellbound.

The two lovers were intimately connected. Lisa was on top, slowly riding
Gene's impressive manhood, her eyes closed, and her hands kneading her small,
perfectly shaped breasts. Her pussy lips clung around him as she rose up off
his body, like they were fighting to prevent him from leaving her.

"Oh Gene, I'm going to miss this most of all," she moaned. "But don't worry,
I've found someone to take my place. She's perfect. I'm just glad I met you
first; I'm not sure I could have competed with her if I hadn't. You will wake
up, I know you will, and when you do, love her as you do me."

As she was talking, Lisa began to increase her pace, going from a slow canter
to a full gallop, until she settled fully down on him seemingly frozen in
place. Moments later, her orgasm became something else as Lisa's breathing
became raspy and rapid. Suddenly concerned for her health, Emily nearly barged
into the room. Then Lisa's breathing seemed to return to normal. When Emily
was sure that the worst was over, she continued down the hall and hurried into
the shower.

_____________________

The next morning, before the sun had fully cleared the horizon, the two women
left the house as planned and crossed over the hundred yards of desert ground
to the Bell Rock Trail Head. As they were stretching out their muscles, Lisa
said, "We'll take it nice and easy today. This is just to get you familiar
with the trail. It's a little more than three and half miles. We'll stop at
the trail head at the other end, rest a bit and then, depending on how we
feel, we'll either come back the same way we came, or take the scenic trail
between the two formations."

They set out at a comfortable pace, but half way through, Emily noticed that
Lisa's breathing was becoming more labored. Knowing what she had seen the
previous day, she slowed her pace down, allowing Lisa to lead at a pace she
was comfortable with. When they finally reached the eastern trailhead, Lisa
could barely catch her breath.

"Sorry, Emily; I thought I could do this, but apparently the disease has
already begun showing symptoms. Let's sit at the picnic table for a while. I
think maybe it would be best if I walked back. You can jog if you want."

"Don't be silly, I'm not going to leave you alone. Anyway, it's beautiful out
here! I'd enjoy a slow walk back just so I can take in the scenery."

"Thank you; we can talk on the way back."

_____________________

It took a little over an hour to walk back home, but neither noticed nor
cared. Lisa began filling Emily in on all Gene's quirks, wants, and desires.

"Oh, another thing: he loves to wrestle. He's not very good at it, and I can
usually beat him. But, I think that's what he really wants. I think for Gene,
being dominated by me was a form of release for him. A relief valve for the
pressure-cooker that he was living in."

"Really? I've heard of things like that before and seen some of the strange
ways that soldiers relieve the stress of war, but I've never heard of that one
before."

"Gene is very competitive, but I'm afraid that compared to me he never stood
much of a chance physically; either in running, strength, or wrestling.
Against you, it'll be hopeless. The only thing I can tell you for sure is that
you and your clothes will never leave the mat area together. Gene & I used our
wrestling as foreplay. Usually, by the time he was finished with me, I could
barely walk. But boy... was I contented."

Chapter 4:

Lisa stayed in Sedona for another month. In that time, Emily learned
everything there was to know about Gene, Lisa, and their life together. She
could also see the deterioration in Lisa's health.

"Lisa, you've got to get to the doctor. Maybe he can give you something for
your breathing and your appetite, you're losing too much weight."

"No, I can't do it here; I can't risk it." Lisa drew a breath. "Emily, I think
it's time for me to leave."

They both sat at the kitchen table and just stared into their empty cups of
coffee. They had both known this day was coming; but neither had expected it
so soon.

The next morning Emily helped Lisa pack two suitcases full of clothes. It
didn't even make a dent in the amount of clothes that were in her huge walk-in
closet.

"The rest are yours Lisa, Emily's not going to need them where she's going,"
Lisa said with a sad smile on her face.

"You call me when you get there, Lisa; from the road if you can," Emily said
with tears running down her cheeks. In the relatively short time that they had
been together they had bonded as only women who are truly sisters can.

"You have your charger for the car? You have the directions in your phone,
right? Take 17 North to Flagstaff, 40 West to Kingman, 93 North to Boulder
City, 11 North to Las Vegas -- don't stop there to gamble -- then take...."

"Yes, mother. I have the directions. I'll call you when I stop for the night,
and it won't be in Vegas."

"I love you, Lisa. I'll take good care of Gene, I promise."

"I know you will; because I know you, and I trust you. I love you, too."

Emily grabbed her suitcases and carried them out to the Civic. Before Lisa got
into the car she turned and hugged Emily tightly, almost afraid to let her go.
Then abruptly, ended their embrace, got into the car, started it and backed
out of the garage and pulled away, with one final toot of the horn.

Emily stood in the garage until the car was out of sight, then turned, pushed
the button to close the door, and went into the house. It was Lisa who entered
the kitchen and walked through the house to check on her husband Gene.

It was very quiet in the house, and she missed her friend already. In order to
occupy herself, she spent more time than normal in Gene's room taking care of
all of his needs. She would not, however, make love to another woman's
husband. Until she got word that everything was final, as far as she was
concerned, Gene's wife was on her way to Oregon, and that was that.

Lisa spent the night in her old bed. She wouldn't move her stuff into Lisa's
room until she knew for sure that she had made it to Oregon and was settled
in. She did get a call from her that evening; both she and her car were doing
well. After a little over nine hours of driving she was about half way to
Bandon. She was going to get a good night's sleep and start out early the next
morning. If her luck continued to hold, she was sure she'd make it to Bandon
by 6:00 the next evening; she already had a room booked at the Best Western.

_____________________

"Well, I made it. How's everything going? How's Gene: giving you any
problems?"

"Lisa, everything is fine here; how are you?"

"First of all, my name is Emily. You're Lisa and you better get used to it
fast or you're going to blow the whole thing. I'm feeling pretty good today.
I'm checked in at the Best Western. Tomorrow I have an appointment with my new
doctor. Hopefully it won't take me too long to steer him towards what is
really wrong with me. Once I get diagnosed properly, I'll get myself checked
into a long-term care facility here. I found one that overlooks the mouth of
the river and the Pacific."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a coughing fit, and a prolonged
period of wheezing.

"Emily, are you alright?"

"I'm okay, the symptoms are becoming more pronounced. I'm afraid the disease
is progressing faster than I imagined. I'll call you in a couple of days. I
love you. Goodbye."

Lisa stood there, staring at her phone, feeling totally helpless. She wished
she could be there with her, to help her anyway she could. It wasn't right
that she should suffer alone.

_____________________

She fell back into her daily routine. There was actually very little for her
to do, other than make sure Gene was being fed, kept clean, and that his
sexual needs were satisfied. She would do that for Emily.

Lisa started every day first checking that Gene was okay. Then she went for a
long run along the Bell Rock Trail. Upon her return, she'd check on Gene,
shower, and have breakfast. Then, maybe do a load of wash, spend a couple of
hours in their fully equipped gym, working mostly with the free weights,
alternating days on upper body, lower body, and core exercises. After checking
on Gene, making sure he was bathed and taking care of his other needs, she'd
use the outdoor shower to rinse off before heading for the pool or the hot
tub. She loved the feel of the strong Arizona sun on her naked body. She could
already see the changes to her physique and her overall tan. Her late
afternoons were for heading out to the grocery store to buy whatever she
needed for her meals and for the house. By nine o'clock, after checking on
Gene one last time, she was ready for bed.

Although she lived in virtual isolation, she found she was not lonely. Lisa
was very at peace with herself: "comfortable in her own skin". She had a
purpose: the care of a man who was totally helpless, and that suited her just
fine.

She was amazed that her neighborhood felt so empty. Gardeners came and went,
so did pool maintenance company vans, and the occasional handyman's pickup
truck. But, she never saw anyone moving about; except for runners of the
nearby trail, no one seemed to ever be around. This was not how she grew up.
Back then, everybody in the neighborhood knew practically everyone else, and
many of the neighbors met socially. Now she knew why Emily felt that this
scheme of hers would work.

It was two weeks later that Lisa received another call from Emily.

"Hi, Lisa. How's everything going there in sunny Sedona?"

"Emily! Thank God you called, I've been worried sick about you. I tried your
cell and left messages, but you never returned my calls."

"I'm sorry Lisa, I tossed my phone into the Pacific. I realized that it was
still in my old name; I couldn't have anything to tie me back to Gene in my
possession when the end came. If you haven't yet, I suggest that you get rid
of your old phone and get a new one in your name.

"The doctor finally made the right diagnosis last week and immediately put me
in the hospital. But in less than three days, they told me that there was
nothing that they could do for me. So they transferred me to my new home, the
Pacific View Assisted Living Community. Normally they would only take in
seniors, but since this is going to be a short-term stay... money talks, and
with the right amount of it they bent their rules and allowed me to lease an
unoccupied unit until the end comes."

"Emily, don't talk like that. You keep fighting."

There was a long period of silence, both were deep in thought.

"Lisa," she said with a quiver in her voice, "I'm scared."

"I know you are, Honey, I've seen death. I wish I could be there for you."

"I wish I could be with the two of you, but that would sort of defeat the
whole purpose of my plan. On a brighter note, they have assigned a male nurse
to help me. He's right out of nursing school; blond, blue eyes, and from his
picture appears to be just yummy. He starts next week."

"Emily, you be good to him; don't you corrupt him."

"I promise. Lisa I have to go; I'll call you next week. Take good care of
Gene, goodbye."

She disconnected before Lisa could respond.

Six days later Emily called again. After the usual questions about her health
and getting Emily's usual response, Lisa could tell that things were far worse
than before. There was a constant heaviness in her breathing and the fits of
coughing were becoming more frequent. Lisa knew the end was near.

"Lisa, I don't have much time. I sent Jason, my nurse, to the store to get me
a couple of things that I'll never use. Before he left I had him carry me to
my desk. I've got to finish writing my final instructions for the director
here. Lisa, I couldn't help myself, I think I totally corrupted Jason. Each
time he gives me my sponge bath, he tries to be professional, but by the time
he's finished the lump running down his inner thigh is impossible to hide.
Yesterday, when he was done, I reached over and grabbed it. It didn't take
much to convince him that he would be fulfilling the final wishes of a dying
woman if he would get naked and join me in bed."

"Emily! You didn't!"

"Lisa, it reminded me of that oldie by Steven Stills:

'And if you can't be with the one you love, honey

Love the one you're with.'

"Oh Lisa, I didn't, but he sure did. I guess my body hasn't deteriorated too
much, just my breathing. First he gave me a tongue bath. I thought I had
already died and gone to heaven when he went down on me. He got me off twice;
the second time I thought I was finished for sure. But that was only the
preliminaries. When I could finally breathe again, Jason introduced me to
'Little Jason', who isn't so little. Of course, he's not Gene and he had to do
all the work, but believe me he was up to the challenge. My young stud muffin
came in me twice before he was through. He had tears in his eyes when I
thanked him, and asked him to clean me up and then to leave me. You won't tell
Gene about this will you?"

"Emily, of course not; he doesn't need to know."

"Thank you, Lisa. Thank you for everything, your caring, your friendship, and
your commitment to Gene. I love you. Remember me."

And the phone went dead.

_____________________

Two weeks later FedEx delivered a large box. Carefully packaged, was an urn
filled with the ashes of Emily Harris, along with three envelopes. There was
one from the facility addressed to her, and from Emily, one addressed to her,
and one addressed to Gene.

With trembling hands and eyes wet with tears, Lisa opened the envelope
addressed to her from Emily.

'Lisa, if you are reading this letter you can assume that what's left of me is
in the urn. Don't cry, you know what ALS can do your body and how some people
linger for years; all things considered I got off easy. I don't know what's
next for me, maybe heaven, maybe hell, maybe I'll get a chance to do it all
over again, or maybe nothing at all. But I know what's next for you: you've
got to do whatever you have to do to get Gene to wake up. I've left you
everything that was in my name; you'll find the statements in the bottom
drawer of my desk. At the end of last year, I was worth somewhere in the
neighborhood of twelve million dollars. It might be a little less than that
now because just before I left I transferred two hundred and fifty thousand to
your checking account, which I used for the Pacific View Assisted Living
Community for my care. There should be an envelope included in the box from
them with a detailed statement showing what they took monthly and a check for
what was left. I also closed out your checking account; the check for the
balance in the account is enclosed. I hope you don't mind, I gave Jason a
five-thousand-dollar tip for services above and beyond his normal duties; he
was worth every penny.

'Lisa, I know that the longer this goes on the less likely Gene will ever wake
up; if you find that you can no longer handle this, I'll understand. If you
have to, have him transferred to a long-term care facility somewhere close to
you. The trustee of his assets will arrange for the payment for his care. You
will have to pay for half of the upkeep on each of the houses from the twelve
million. I have always known that there is one other alternative for you; now,
if Gene dies, everything reverts to your name. But, I have faith in my
judgment of your character that you could never do anything to hurt him.

'If he does wake up, you must never tell him about me, except as a last
resort. If he somehow does not believe that you are me and that this grand
scheme of mine seems to be unraveling, give him the envelope addressed to him
and let him work it out for himself. You will not be able to force him to
accept you; it's got to be him that makes the decision for himself. I've
explained everything to him, that you had nothing to do with this, and that if
you are still there it's because of your love of and devotion to him; and that
I totally approve of you.

'Lastly, please destroy this letter immediately. It will only cause you
unneeded suffering if anyone other than you reads it.

I love you for all eternity,

Emily'

Lisa couldn't shake off her grief. With tears streaming down her cheeks she
carried the urn to Gene's room, stood at the foot of his bed and silently
prayed. When she was finished she turned, walked out of the room, and made her
way to the large family room. Over the huge rustic fireplace, on top of the
hand-hewed mantel, she nestled the urn between the skulls of two long dead
horses.

Although she couldn't understand it, she suddenly felt cold and abandoned.
Craving the touch of another human, she walked back to Gene's room, stripped
out of her clothes, and climbed into his bed. Lisa turned him onto his side
and snuggled against his back. She felt the warmth of his body and the
gentleness of his breathing and soon drifted off to sleep.

For her it was a dreamless sleep, but not for Gene.

Lisa woke with a start; she was not used to sleeping with anyone; even a man
in a deep coma is subject to little muscle spasms now and then. Gene's body
seemed to be in the middle of a period of muscle movement. Checking the
monitor, she noted an increase of brain activity, and then slipped her hand
down his body until it rested on his erection; apparently Gene was having an
erotic dream, and she was most likely the cause.

"Forgive me, Emily; I need this more than even he does," she whispered.

Moving away from him just enough to allow his body to fall onto his back, she
lifted her leg and straddled his lean body.

'I hope I can handle this,' she thought to herself as she guided his
impressive erection to her entrance. Slowly, just an inch at a time, she took
him into her body. At first it was a little painful; she hadn't had sex in
over six months and her ex's cock was nowhere near the size of Gene's, but
sooner than she could have imagined she had it all. She could feel the spasms
of a small orgasm as her inner muscles tried to repel the invader. When the
spasms stopped, she began to lift off of him. At this point she would have
already lost her grip on her old boyfriend, but on Gene there was still plenty
left inside, so she tested his limits. Soon she began to reverse direction,
marveling at the stuffed feeling she was experiencing. Faster now, she
repeated her movements. Her second orgasm hit her hard. When she had fully
recovered, sensing that Gene had not yet cum, she began again. This was
uncharted territory for her; she had never achieved three orgasms with any of
her previous lovers. Just when she thought she couldn't go on, she felt Gene
tremble beneath her and they both achieved a very satisfying orgasm. At least
she assumed that Gene's was satisfying as she fell forward and luxuriated in
the afterglow. Slowly she felt his erection subside and she was able to lift
off his comatose body.

Lisa pulled his body close to hers and fell back into a peaceful sleep. When
she woke up an hour later, however, she was racked with guilt. She had slept
with another woman's husband!

"No, he's mine now; she left him to me. He's mine to care for, to nurture back
to health, and to love, if he'll have me."

_____________________

Life slowly reverted back to normal for Lisa, if you can consider making love
to a comatose man normal. That notwithstanding, she found that each day was
basically the same; the only deviation being that she alternated between hand
jobs, oral - she was getting really good at deep throat - and intercourse,
which she enjoyed the best of all. And each day she prayed that Gene would
awaken and love her as much as she loved him. Afterwards, she would spend the
afternoon on the back patio, either in the pool or the hot tub.

_________________________

It had been nearly a year since Emily's death and Lisa was becoming
melancholy. She hoped that a little party - just she and Gene, of course -
would help lift her spirits. It was early afternoon the day of the party; Lisa
entered Gene's room, slowly stripped off her clothes, and walked towards his
bed.

If you asked her afterwards, she couldn't tell you what she had noticed first,
that Gene's impressive equipment was standing tall and proud, or that his
eyes, instead of staring blankly as they normally did, followed her as she
crossed the room.

"Oh my God, you're awake!" she shouted. And then the tears began to flow.

Chapter 5

"Gene, don't try to talk; just shake your head if you can. You were in an
accident; you were severely injured. You have been in a coma for over three
years. I'm here to help you. Your body has been dormant, so you won't be able
to move much. Do you understand?

Gene nodded; "wa-wa-."

"I'll get you some ice to suck on. Your body won't be able to handle any water
yet."

Lisa ran to the kitchen, got a cup of ice chips, and returned to his room.

"One chip at a time, just relax Gene. I'm here; you're going to be all right."

It took a whole day for Gene to begin to speak. When he did, incredibly there
appeared to be no lasting damage to his brain. By the next day, Lisa began to
question him.

"Do you remember me or what happened to you?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't think I do. Who are you?"

"I'm Lisa, your wife."

"Obviously, I married up; a beautiful Florence Nightingale to watch over me."

"Gene, what I'm going to tell you is going to be a great shock to you; just
remember you're safe now. You were shot by a sniper while you were talking to
someone on the phone on the balcony of our room. You fell off the balcony,
falling into a tree which probably saved your life."

And for the next hour she told Gene the tale of how Lisa had gotten him out of
Costa Rica and eventually back home.

Suddenly, Gene's face got a strange look and he said, "Lisa, I've got to go to
the bathroom, help me please. I don't want to mess the bed."

Lisa disconnected him from his feeding tube and his monitors and basically
carried him to the bathroom. When he was finished she picked him up and
carried him back to bed, reconnected the feeding tube and sat next to him
again.

"How did you get so strong?"

"Well, I didn't really have much to do while you were in your coma, so I spent
a lot of time downstairs in the gym and out in the pool. Plus, you have lost a
lot of muscle mass, so, to me, you are as light as a feather. But don't worry
we'll build you back up as soon as you're able to start exercising again."

Every day she would sit on his bed and talk to him, while she massaged his
arms and legs. All that touching had the predictable effect on his cock. Lisa,
without any hesitation, took him into her mouth and shortly thereafter, Gene's
essence filled her mouth, which she swallowed with no problem.

"You were the woman in my dreams. I remember, I remember."

"Well, I couldn't just leave you in that condition now could I?" She said with
a twinkle in her eye.

_____________________

Over the next six months, with a lot of help from Lisa, Gene repaired the
physical damage done to his body by the coma. During that time Gene's memories
slowly came back to him; fractured visions of his previous life would suddenly
pop into his head. Unfortunately, none of the memories were whole, which only
served to frustrate him all the more. One evening they were naked in bed when
Gene's frustration came pouring out of him.

"Why can't I remember anything? I thought I at least could remember our
wedding day. Nothing. Any time I remember anything about you, it's your face
as it is now that I see, not what it looked like ten years ago."

"Gene, that's only natural. You've seen my face every day for the last six
months, that's your subconscious mind filling in the blanks."

He tried another tack. "Why aren't there any pictures of us in the house?"

"You never wanted anyone to take your picture. You said it would be bad for
your business; just like that gangster in the Godfather."

"See, that's the kind of thing I do remember."

"What, that you were some sort of gangster?"

"You know better than that; I was an accountant and money manager."

There was a pause in their conversation. They both knew that there was much
that couldn't or wouldn't be said about what he actually had done for a
living.

"Lisa, who was Emily Harris? Was she your mother or some other relative?"

'Here we go; I was wondering when he was going to ask me about her.'

For the next twenty minutes she explained how she had decided to remove him
from the Long-Term Care facility and hire a full time live-in care provider to
help her care for him herself.

Lisa let Gene develop his own picture of Nurse Emily. She watched with
amusement as his, until-now-flaccid cock, begin to stir, twitching with the
beating of his heart, as blood surged into it. When it was almost fully erect
she grasped it in her powerful hand and slowly began to masturbate him.

"You dirty old man. I can just imagine what you're thinking. She was not some
sort of candy-striper; she was my age, a former Army Medic, and a good
Catholic woman. What she did for you, she did for purely medical reasons, and
she definitely drew the line before intercourse. She let me handle that
assignment. Emily and I became the best of friends; friends, not lovers. I had
all I could handle keeping you satisfied.

"Tragically, she soon began feeling ill and was diagnosed with an aggressive
form of ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease. Fortunately, she was able to teach me how
to care for you before she became too sick to stay here. Since she had no
family, she asked me to take care of her ashes. I thought that since she
obviously cared a great deal about both of us, that we'd keep her in a
prominent part of our house. I hope you agree."

As if to punctuate her last statement, Lisa began to pump her hand up and down
his overly-stimulated cock. Gene closed his eyes as, with a low moan, his
essence shot into the air, arcing its way towards his face and chest. After
she stopped laughing, Lisa got on her hands and knees on the bed and, like a
young kitten, slowly licked his face and chest until she had gotten it all.

"Now, it's my turn," she said as she mounted him and began to ride up and down
on his glorious cock. It didn't take long before she could feel her orgasm
traveling through her body.

"Show me your muscles," Gene said.

"Cum for your muscle goddess," she returned as she brought her fourteen inch
arms up into a double bicep pose and flexed. Her muscular arms swelled to
nearly sixteen inches as she felt Gene erupt within her. When she came down
from her post-orgasmic high she released his slowly-deflating organ and
snuggled up next to him, capturing his body in a crushing embrace.

"I love you with all my heart; don't ever leave me again."

_____________________

As Gene's strength and endurance continued to improve it was time to take
their workouts to new levels. They started out their days with a run along the
hiking trails behind their house. Upon their return, they striped out of their
sweaty running clothes and headed to the gym. Each did their workout naked.
Lisa loved the fact that Gene could never get through even half of his workout
without his erection getting in the way. That's when they went into the next
phase of their exercise.

"Sir, get over here. I think it's time that you pay for your impertinence. How
dare you point that impressive tool of yours in my direction? I'll teach you
who's the boss around here and who decides when you can have your release."

Gene advanced slowly, and Lisa circled him, looking for an opening. Lisa
taunted him, "Come on little man; let's see if you learned anything from last
week's match."

Gene's machismo got the better of him and he lunged at her. Unfortunately for
him the effect was the equivalent of running into a brick wall. Lisa wrapped
her arms around his chest, trapping his arms in her strong embrace.

"Apparently not," she chuckled as she began to squeeze. Although she was only
two inches taller than his five-feet-nine, she outweighed him by nearly
twenty-five pounds of bone-crushing muscle. Leaning backwards until she was
sure that his feet were no longer touching the mats, she continued to increase
the intensity of the bear hug that had him completely helpless and fighting to
breathe.

"Lisa, I give... I give," Gene barely got out before he ran out of oxygen.

She immediately stopped squeezing and allowed his feet to touch the mats
again, holding him steady until he had recovered.

"Ready for fall number two?"

"You're going to pay for that."

Although it was still formidable, his erection had lost much of its rigidity.
That would change shortly she knew. "Oh... and who's gonna make me pay? You?"
As soon as she got him in an inescapable hold, when she had him completely
helpless, she knew that's when it would return to its fully aroused state.

Lisa allowed him to get ahold of one of her arms and circle around her back.
Soon he was able to take her down to the mat. She was face down, with Gene on
her back trying his best to turn her over. When she felt that he had expended
much of his remaining energy, she moved with him and ended up on her back,
with Gene lying on her chest trying his hardest to pin her shoulders to the
mat. That's when the trap sprang shut. Lisa curled up slightly, just enough to
keep her shoulders off the mat; at the same time her legs, which had been
spread wide on either side of his body, clamped tightly around his waist. The
look of horror was clearly evident on his face as Lisa began to squeeze.

"I think you'd better give up or you're going to find yourself in a world of
pain."

When Gene did not immediately submit, Lisa hit him with a small jolt of female
muscle power. To Gene it felt as if he was being cut in half. The jolt forced
all the air out of his lungs, so he desperately tapped out before she could
give him another.

"This is convenient, having you between my legs, your impressive tool just
inches away from the Promised Land," she taunted him. "But you haven't
completed your workout yet. So let's go one more time, shall we?"

She allowed Gene to rest for a couple of minutes as she stood over him,
flexing for his enjoyment.

When he was ready Gene got to his feet and warily circled her once again, his
tool only slightly deflated due to his fatigue. Lisa knew that this would be
the last fall; he was already breathing heavily and sweat was running down
both sides of his face.

She played with him like a cat plays with a mouse just before making her kill.
Each time he came within reach she pushed him away or casually tossed him to
one side or the other. She wanted to show him that she was in total control;
that, although he was still the aggressor, it was by her choice, not his, and
that everything could change without warning. She continued her game until she
could see the defeat in his eyes. On his next attempt to engage, her military
training kicked in. Even a combat medic goes through basic training, including
hand-to-hand combat training. With relative ease, she grabbed him by the upper
arms, pivoted and tossed him over her hip, and followed him down onto the mat.
"Ooof", was the only sound that came from Gene as his solidly-built wife
landed hard on his stomach; all the air had been forced out of his lungs yet
again.

But this time, instead of placing him in another debilitating hold, Lisa spun
around facing his feet, her face just inches away from his erection, his head
between her thighs. A moment later he felt her hand run up and down his length
and her tongue slowly circle its crown.

This was something he could handle and be on equal footing with her. Many
nights they had engaged in sixty-nine, often times bringing on multiple
orgasms for them both. As he lifted his head off the mat to better reach her
with his tongue, he felt her slide one of her legs under his head until her
muscular calf held his head firmly in place. Recent history had showed him
that this was not going to be a one-and-done; she was anticipating multiple
orgasms and she would not be denied.

Her first came quickly, he felt her muscles clench as she pressed her pussy
against his face. Soon she began to gyrate over his face, the juices from her
first orgasm liberally coating it. Encouraged, he re-engaged his tongue, this
time attacking her extended clit. As he did, he felt himself being engulfed by
her very skillful mouth. He marveled at the feeling of her throat closing in
around its head, the pressure sending wave after wave of pleasure to his
brain. He could picture inch after inch of his cock disappearing into her
mouth.

Not to be outdone, Gene captured her clit between his lips and flicked his
tongue rapidly over and around it. When he gave it a playful nip with his
teeth he was rewarded with a second helping of her juices as she screamed out
her cumming around his over-stimulated cock.

When she recovered, she began her final assault. Lisa was determined to break
down his resistance and take from him what he had, up until now, withheld from
her. She allowed all but the head of his marvelous cock to escape her mouth,
while her hand pumped him furiously. This was more than he could endure. With
a low moan, he succumbed to her assault and rewarded her efforts with a
mouthful of his essence, which set her off one more time.

After a long recovery period for both of them, Gene took one of her muscular
glutes in each hand, spread her open and, like a cat cleans her kittens after
they ate, proceeded to lick her clean of all her juices. Just before he had
completed this, very pleasing for both of them, task, he hesitated, staring at
her cute little asshole. Lisa took this to mean that he was done and, with one
last deep suck to capture whatever remained in his now deflating erection,
rolled over onto her side and spun on her hip so she was facing her lover.

Lying there on his back, Gene said, "Who are you?"

When he didn't get a response he turned his head to look at her and asked
again.

"Who are you?"

"Lisa, your wife, of course."

"No, you're not; you're not my Lisa."

A sense of dread came over her, and she began to cry.

"How did you figure it out? What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong. Quite to the contrary you did everything right, just
different. It was little things at first, the way you said certain words, the
way you cooked certain dishes and the way you made love. My Lisa, for all her
outstanding qualities, would never allow me to cum in her mouth. It was one of
her pet peeves. She didn't like the taste or texture of my cum and always
finished me off with her hand. I just assumed that now, after three years,
that you had gotten used to it. And then there is the "deep throat" thing. My
Lisa had a very sensitive gag reflex; she could never take me all the way to
my balls the way you do. Again, I could overlook that change, again for the
same reason: that after three years you overcame your gag reflex.

"But what you couldn't know about, and therefore couldn't change, was 'The
Scream'."

"The Scream?"

"Yes; my Lisa, has two beauty marks on the inside of her ass cheeks just about
an inch above her anus; one on each cheek. When you're looking at them as
close up as I did when orally pleasing her, especially when I grab her ass, it
reminds me of the famous Edvard Munch painting titled 'The Scream'. I have a
copy of it in my office in Nogales.

"I'm sure that since, as you have said that you were friends and not lovers,
you never compared the beauty marks that everyone has on their bodies. You
certainly would have assumed, and correctly for the most part, that I wouldn't
remember them on my Lisa and therefore wouldn't notice any changes. What my
Lisa never knew was that I had this image in my mind each time I went down on
her. I don't think she ever even knew she had them.

"Just now, as we were finishing up, that image came again to my mind, and I
realized that the eyes were gone. So I ask you again, for the third time; who
are you?"

Lisa, knowing that the deception was over, silently got up, never answering
his question and as she was leaving the gym, called out over her shoulder,
"Stay here; I'll be right back."

From the back of her underwear drawer she retrieved the envelope addressed to
Gene and, with an anxious heart, returned to the gym.

"Gene, I hope this will explain everything; I'm going out to the pool."

She grabbed her robe and went out the sliding door to the patio, leaving Gene
on his own. As she sat in the shade on one of the lounge chairs she
contemplated her future.

What if Gene rejected her and asked her to leave... where would she go, what
would she do? Emily Harris was dead, and with her death, so was her education,
her career, her service record; she had no way of earning a living, no assets,
not even a roof over her head.

Her despair was complete; all she could do now was pray.

Two hours later, a red-eyed Gene joined her on the patio, sitting on the
lounge chair next to hers.

"I guess you are actually Emily and that the ashes in the urn are those of my
Lisa."

"Yes, that's right."

"I understand why things were done the way they were done. It was really all
my fault; first by getting involved with those people to begin with; then by
stupidly assuming that we really never needed to have a will, I forced my Lisa
to take the actions that she did. I just wish there could have been some other
way to accomplish all this without involving you. If you don't mind I think
I'm going to spend the night in my old bedroom. I need time to think."

_____________________

It was the longest night of her life. Her mind was racing; she couldn't read
him. He said he understood why they had deceived him, but would he accept her
now that he knew the truth? And could he love her as much as she did him?

Just before sunrise, Lisa left the house, she needed to clear her head, and
she always found that the best way to accomplish that was to run the hiking
trails. By the time she got back to the house she had traveled nearly ten
miles, over all sorts of terrain; but she was at peace with herself. The final
decision was Gene's to make, his and his alone.

When she entered the kitchen she found Gene standing at the stove and was
greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"Why don't you take a quick shower and come back downstairs for breakfast; we
have a lot to talk about."

Within twenty minutes she was back in the kitchen, her hair wrapped in a
towel. She would have preferred to come down looking her best, but she sensed
that Gene would rather not be kept waiting. Besides he had already seen her at
her best and her worst.

"The first thing we are going to have to agree on is what we are going to call
you. If you don't mind, I'd like you to continue using the name Lisa.

The release of tension must have been apparent on Lisa's face, because Gene
let out a soft chuckle.

"You didn't think I was going to kick you out, did you? What kind of
ungrateful jerk do you take me for?"

Not waiting for a reply to his rhetorical question he continued. "I spent a
lot of time thinking last night. I also was able to remember more about my
'accident'. Do you know who called me that night? It was 'El Jefe'. He asked
me how I was enjoying my vacation. He told me he was on vacation too; that he
was in Cartagena, Columbia. Then he paused, and with more menace than I'd ever
heard in his voice, he called me 'el canalla', meaning scoundrel or rat. He
asked me how I could betray him. When I told him that I had no choice, that I
either worked with the FBI or spend the rest of my life in Leavenworth, he
just laughed.

"I asked him why he took the time to call me if he already knew about what I
had done, he laughed again and then said, 'To hear you die, of course.'

"I never heard the shot. The next thing I was aware of was a beautiful woman
taking off her clothes and walking across the room towards my bed. Over time,
I thought I knew who that woman was. And then, yesterday, everything changed
again. Lisa, all I know is that I wanted us to grow old together and nothing
that has happened has changed that."

Lisa practically flew out of her chair and smothered him with hugs and kisses.

After several minutes Gene went on. "I also spent some time on the Internet
last night. It took a while but I finally found what I was looking for.
Apparently, someone was after El Jefe as well; he never made it out of
Columbia. Either it was a rival drug lord or the CIA, but I found his
obituary; he was killed in Bogota three days after the attempt on my life. I
found the pictures on a Columbian newspaper's website. They apparently are not
at all squeamish about posting gory pictures; maybe it's their way of warning
people to stay out of their business.

"The joke is on El Jefe; not only am I still alive, but he had me killed
before I could finish the last of my extraordinarily brilliant maneuvers to
launder his millions. It was his own fault actually; I needed his
authorization to make the final transfers, which he never gave me.

"So, besides the nearly one hundred thirty million dollars that he paid me
over the years, there's another hundred million parked in a numbered Swiss
account just waiting to be transferred to ours. It won't even have to leave
the bank. My Lisa was a really smart woman; after I was shot, before anything
else she secured my little black book. I normally kept it on my person at all
times, but because we were on vacation she had me stash it in the false bottom
of my carry-on. That book contained all the account numbers and their
associated passwords; without it we'd be nearly broke.

"Come with me to my office. I want to show you something."

They walked out of the kitchen, Gene's arm holding her tightly around the
waist. Once in his office, he stepped behind his desk and swung the picture of
the Grand Canyon away from the wall, revealing a wall safe.

"Lisa, please go over to the picture of the accountant working on his
calculator and read to me the numbers on the adding machine tape."

Lisa read off the four two-digit numbers and watched incredulously as he
entered the code into the keypad.

Gene looked at her over his shoulder and smiled. "I may be great at moving
money around, but I can never memorize combinations. I think it's a phobia of
some sort."

In the safe were neatly-stacked bundles of one hundred dollar bills. Ten
stacks in all, with ten thousand dollars in each stack.

"Escape money."

Next to the money were two yellow envelopes. Gene removed the first envelope
and dumped out its contents onto the desk. Lisa recognized the cover of a US
Passport and an Arizona Driver's License; each had a picture of an obviously
younger Gene. What she didn't recognize was the name: Eugene Mercado.

Seeing the confusion on her face, Gene clarified, "A new identity as well."

While she was digesting this, Gene reached back into the safe and pulled out
the second envelope. That one Lisa recognized; it was the envelope from Emily
that she had given to Gene less than twenty-four hours ago. Gene emptied the
contents onto the desk; all, that is except for the two small objects that he
snatched out of the air, and held hidden in his hand. Lisa was more interested
in the white business-sized envelope addressed to her.

Picking it up off the desk Lisa asked, "May I?"

"Of course; she addressed it to you."

The envelope contained a single sheet of tri-folded white paper. She slowly
opened the paper, as if something was going to jump off the page. Puzzled she
read and then re-read the three words centered on the page -

PLEASE SAY YES!

Lisa turned toward Gene hoping for an explanation of the cryptic message and
discovered him on one knee, two rings in hand. One was a large three carat
pear-shaped solitaire, the other a smaller diamond-encrusted wedding band that
interlocked around the first; both were set in white gold.

"Lisa, I'm asking you to change your name one last time. Lisa Mercado sounds
like the most beautiful music ever created by man. Will you do me the honor of
being my wife?

Lisa stood spellbound, her eyes gazing deeply into his, then shifted to the
rings he was offering to her, and then to the letter from Emily.

Thinking that maybe she was unsure of his love for her, Gene added,

"She wanted you to have these; but if you would rather not have them, I'll buy
whatever your heart desires. In case you didn't hear me before, I fell in love
with you all over again the moment I awoke; nothing has changed that and
nothing ever will."

"Gene, my love for you grew over time. I realized that even though I had never
actually met you, I knew you through the eyes and heart of my best friend, and
if she saw the goodness in you I knew I'd find it as well. My answer is yes, I
will marry you... with a couple of conditions; that you never return to the
life you led and that you use the money that you never actually earned to
combat the evil thing you helped finance."

"You have a deal."

Gene stood and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace as he lifted her
off her feet and twirled her around.

"I see my man has regained some of his strength. That's good; now I won't have
to be extra careful in order to avoid hurting you. Why don't we go down to the
gym and do our usual workout?"

"I have a better idea; let's go upstairs to our bedroom, and I'll try to pound
you through the mattress until you beg me to stop."

Epilogue

"Lisa, your Passport arrived." In his hand Gene held a FedEx envelope; with a
smile he handed it to her.

She zipped it open and pulled out another envelope containing a US Passport.

Lisa opened the envelope and examined her passport; which was issued in her
married name and with her recent photo.

"And as if by magic, you now exist in the United States' computer systems; all
perfectly legal; well almost anyway, and just in time too; we leave for Italy
next week."

"This is so exciting. I've never been out of the county before, unless you
count my eight- year stint in Iraq courtesy of Uncle Sam. What airline are we
flying?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you; I never fly commercial, not even first class. Since
9/11 all the security procedures are just too much of a hassle. I've leased a
private jet to take us to Italy. It will be just me, you, and the two pilots.
Lisa and I joined the Mile-High Club about ten years ago on one of my trips to
Switzerland. I would love to initiate you as well."

For his brashness he received a not-too-gentle punch in the arm, but also a
consenting smile as well.

"We'll tour Italy, starting in Rome, for about a month, then swing over to
Zurich, conduct a little business, and then return home."

"That brings me to one final piece of business. With your permission I'd like
to set up the Lisa Paldino Charitable Foundation. Its mission will be to raise
funds for not-for-profit organizations helping people who are suffering from
the effects of drug addiction and alcohol abuse in the State of Arizona. We'll
transfer the money from the Zurich bank account to get the ball rolling; and
we'll also solicit funds from all the high rollers from Scottsdale, Phoenix,
and Sedona.

"Gene, that's wonderful. And speaking of Lisa, can we also provide funds for
organizations doing research searching for a cure for ALS?

"I'm sure Lisa would be pleased."

"Now that we've gotten all the business stuff out of the way, why don't we go
downstairs

to the gym and work out for a while. I'll give you another chance to try to
take the family wrestling title. Then, after I beat your sorry ass once again,
you can help me with my application for admittance into the Mile High Club.
But considering the altitude at the Grand Canyon, last week's stay at the El
Tovar Hotel probably already qualified me for membership."

"But it doesn't hurt to be doubly sure."

THE END

As always, thank you for reading my stories. Remember your comments are
greatly appreciated; they are the only compensation an amateur storyteller
like me receives.

SR

submissiveromanticone(at)gmail(dot)com