Dream Island Resort

Part 8. Changes.

Fred opened his eyes to the darkness of his mistress' bedroom, listening to her slow breathing. He nudged her gently, but got no response, then slipped out of bed to pad naked to the balcony and peer into the velvet darkness. 'Still nothing!' He was about to turn back when a tiny light flashed, once, then again and then three times in rapid succession. 'Hello, friends!'. He sighed with relief and hurried the other bedroom, where Pat was asleep, switched on the computer and tapped the keyboard, watching the build up of messages on the screen, lit up in smile, tapped again and turned to wake up his wife.

The night watchman on the guard boat was peering forward into the darkness and didn't hear the faint noise when two rubber clad figures emerged from the sea to throw a hook over the railing and creep on deck, discarding their scuba gear on the way. Neither did he stir when one of them came up from behind, expertly silencing him with a blast of gas, before securing the wheel and rejoining his fellow to enter the boat's interior. The remaining three guards were soon equally subdued beside the monitors and in the sleeping cabin and one of their attackers spoke softly into his wrist phone.

Don came awake with a start when a short stab hit his abdomen. He sat up and held his breath until he felt another stab and then, after a pause, a third. 'As Fred had warned him! Now to do as he'd been told' His mistress was asleep beside him and didn't stir when he silently left the bedroom, closing the door. He ran to the roof garden and jumped up to swing over the partition to the next section of the penthouse area. The door to the sitting room was closed, but unlocked, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he went through and stopped for a moment to get his bearings. In the hall he listened at the doors until he heard faint sounds behind one of them and opened it cautiously. The teenage girl was alone, sleeping fitfully in her big bed, and he crept up to put a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear. "Caroline, wake up! It's me, Don, please don't be afraid". She stiffened for a moment, then opened her eyes and stared at him. "Please, don't be scared! You've got to come with me. I can't explain, but it'll be OK". She stared again, wide-eyed, then nodded her understanding and tried to sit up. "Is Maria here?" She shook no and he removed his hand to help her up, then dragged her through the suite and supported her over the partition. They entered the other suite together and he indicated that she should sit down on the floor of the parlour while he picked up the phone and punched a couple of buttons, then replaced it and knelt beside the trembling girl.

The screens in the computer room suddenly went blank and the two guards on night duty sat up when a message flared. 'This is an emergency. Report to the harbour immediately'. The same message was relayed to the ten guards at the hotel and on the grounds. Shrugging his shoulders, one of the guards at the screens rose and the other followed him down to the lobby, where they met those of their fellows who were patrolling the hotel. None of them wondered about the order, the Director ran frequent tests of the security routines. This was just another of those, a low key emergency, where the guard boat had run into some sort of minor trouble, the other boat was out of service and the communication system unreliable for some unknown reason. In such cases, a detail of the guards on watch was ordered to muster at the jetty, ready to deal with whatever was wrong. They stood watching the boat coming in, wondering why all of them seemed to be present. It slowed down to dock and they made ready to receive the mooring ropes when four black figures rose from behind the railing. Two of them fired their silenced submachine guns in short bursts over their heads and into the planking at their feet. The guards froze on the spot and raised their hands. "Good boys! Now turn around, grab your guns, carefully, and throw them into the sea".

Fred's fingers danced on the keyboard while he concentrated on the rows of letters and numbers on the screen. He paused and looked up at his wife. "Now a test, love". He drew a deep breath and tapped a key. "Whew, nothing!" He tapped again, looking anxiously at her. "You didn't feel anything, anything at all?" "No, what...?" "I just sent a signal to your controlling device. You should've felt a stab of pain". "I didn't". "Neither did I". He gave her a wry smile and tapped again, closed his eyes and held his breath. "Thank God, nothing!" He rose to embrace her. "I should've been dead by now, if it worked, but it didn't!" "You activated the poison device?" She looked incredulously at him. "Had to, but it's OK now. I've disabled the whole system". "Oh, Fred!" She hugged him tight. "But why?" "The boys are here, my love. We are free!"

The Director was disturbed in his sleep by a strange sound, a rumbling of heavy engines. He rose, puzzled, and went through the grand sitting room to the roof terrace. The sound was louder, from somewhere at sea, and he peered through the darkness to make out the shape of two ships, the smaller moored at the jetty opposite both of his guard boats and a larger hovering some hundred yards away. A group of men were moving from the jetty, most of them close together and with their hands on their heads, apparently guarded by four others, aiming submachine guns at them. He stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, unable to grasp the quick turn of events, cursed loudly and ran to his study where a computer was humming, ready for use, but the screen was blank and remained so when he frantically tapped the keyboard. With another curse he ran back to his bedroom to get a handgun and then burst into the adjoining suite, looking first into the empty bedroom, then through the other rooms and finally ran to the terrace. 'Nothing!'

The bewildered slaves assembled on the lawn outside the hotel after Pat and Don had gone from room to room, waking them up and telling them to dress. They looked uncertainly at the armed men in uniform, who stood at parade rest around the place. The slaves who'd been serving night shifts joined them, but could only tell that they'd been fetched from work or their clients' suites by some of the same men and politely told to dress and go to the lawn. The clients were ordered to stay in their rooms. After some time all of the island guards were marched up, naked and with their hands cuffed behind their backs, and made to kneel. Shortly after, Fred came out from the hotel, accompanied by a tall man, dressed in black and with his face hidden by a ski mask, and man in parade uniform and peaked cap. Another two uniformed men were dragging a third, naked, man towards them and they gasped when they recognised the Director.

Fred mounted a table and raised his hand to catch their attention. "Friends, you, we are free! The diabolical devices we're carrying in our guts are dead, they cannot harm us". The slaves stared at him, speechless. "It's true, I've tested it, on myself and on Pat. They're harmless and can be removed. We are free. Free!" "But, but how, what...?" Charlie cried with his arm around Rosie. The man in black jumped up beside Fred and put a hand on his shoulder. "Because the criminal, who thought himself so clever, finally made a fatal mistake". He gestured and the Director was dragged up in front of him and roughly forced to his knees, facing his victims, who now saw that he was chained hand and foot and gagged with a large ball. "He made a mistake by kidnapping Pat and Fred". The anonymous man paused, looking out over the vast assembly. "But I'm forgetting my manners. Please excuse this dramatic costume, but it is for your safety that I remain unknown. You've never seen me and you don't know that I'm leader of an agency that does not exist. Neither do you know that this non-existing agency does dire deeds for our country. Necessary deeds that cannot be done by others and of a character that cannot be revealed. Deeds that could not be done, were it not for Fred, by men who could not do them, were it not for Pat". He nodded towards the nurse, who was holding hands with Caroline. "Fred is our nerd and Pat our matron. He collects the information, sets up the schemes on his computers, without which we could not do what we do and have done. She brings us back to life when we've done it, repair our bodies and restore our minds. I ought to say that you don't know them either, but you do, they're your friends and you'll never forget them. To all others, they don't exist, or only as Fred the computer technician and Pat the nurse. That is why this scum of the Earth made his second fatal mistake when he, out of greed, gave Fred access to his systems. From that moment his fate was sealed. It took a little time before Fred cracked them and was able to contact us, and it took some more time for us to plan and set this operation in motion, but, late for you, who had to suffer, here we are, or here we are not. I'm not here and my men never were here, but we did what we had to do to get our friends back, and free all of you. That's all I have to say, or not say. You never heard this, how could you, from a man who does not exist? Just one last thing". He turned to the uniformed man. "This is colonel Hernandez, who commands a special force with whom we've worked closely on several missions. The colonel will ensure your safety here and your safe return home. Good bye and good luck". The anonymous man slapped Fred's shoulder, jumped down to embrace Pat and, before any of the former slaves had time to compose themselves, disappeared towards the beach, from where they a moment later heard a boat roaring away.

Fred unbuckled his ankle and wrist bands, took off his collar and stood looking at them for a moment before throwing them in front of the prisoner. "Thanks for the loan of these". He jumped down and went to his wife, relieved her of her restraints and dumped them with his own, then unclasped the teenager's golden chains. Caroline allowed it, but held out her hand and, clutching them, went to confront her rapist, looking down at him for long minutes, spat into his face and dropped the gold. She turned and walked away, tears running down her face. Maria freed herself from her husband's arms, took off her bands and hurled them at the Director, then ran after the crying girl to lead her towards the slave camp with an arm around her shoulder, whispering encouragement. One by one the others took off the hated symbols of their slavery and the pile grew until it almost hid the man who had enslaved them. When the silent ceremony was over, Fred mounted the table again. "I know that you have many questions to ask and I shall try answering at least some of them, but what is foremost in my mind just now, and in yours as well, I'm sure, is to contact our loved ones back home. There are satellite phones ready for you at the hotel. Use them and let's meet again here at lunch".

Some thousand miles away, the door to a luxurious office in an anonymous building was opened. "I told you that I don't want to be disturbed", the old man behind the desk grunted, without raising his head. "Not me, Don Cavallo". His head snapped up to see a young man, casually dressed in black turtleneck sweater, black pants and black boots, looking at him with a benign smile. "Who are...?" "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Don Cavallo!" The old man stared into the muzzle of a silenced handgun and moved his hand away from the drawer, but quickly regained his composure. "You're not from one of the Families". "Correct. Have you ever heard about Delta Force 66?" He eyed the young man warily. "How would I know about something that doesn't exist?" "Quite. I think we understand each other". "Perhaps, but I do wonder about your operating in this country". "This is entirely a private matter". "So?" The bushy grey eyebrows rose questioningly. "You have a service agreement with a gentleman who runs a holiday resort in the Caribbean?" "Perhaps". "Normally that would be no concern of ours, but you happened to abduct two of us for him". "I see". "A mistake, most certainly, but something that concerns us, very much so". "Understandable". "Your associate is by now out of business". "Of course". "But there's still a question of compensation, or retribution, if you prefer that". "I do not". "Fifty million dollars paid to this account will cover expenses and compensation". The young man put a piece of paper on the desk. "Paid within twenty-four hours". "It's a pleasure to do business with you, Don Cavallo". "I'm an experienced businessman". "No doubt, and that leaves us with just one more item. The persons, who were in charge of and actually handling the abductions, initial processing and transport, will arrive at the resort within three days for a longer stay". "I see. May I ask for what purpose and for how long?" "The staff there is leaving and new needed. Five years, ten perhaps, but they'll survive". The old man rubbed his eyes and his guest saw his hand tremble for the first time during the meeting. "One of them is my brother, another my son". "Don Antonio was unfortunately involved in a car crash ten minutes ago. He's seriously, if not fatally hurt. Young Giorgio will benefit from ten years of, shall we say, honest labour?" "And this is not negotiable?" "Not really. They may of course prefer not to come, but I'm afraid that would make my comrades rather angry. They're very fond of the persons, who were abducted, and they're highly skilled professionals, as you may know". "I could call in some favours". "You could, but I'm afraid that would only anger my friends further, make it difficult to control them, even for my commander, who, I may add, is just as angry as they are". "Very well. They shall be there". "Thank you, Don Cavallo". The young man indicated a slight bow and left.

When Pat and Fred some hours later came back, they found that their fellows had set up long tables and were preparing lunch. They were met by happy greetings, many handshakes and embraces, but told the still bewildered girls and boys that explanations would have to wait until all of them had finished at the phones. At last the former slaves were seated, looking expectantly at the computer specialist. "My commander has already told you that I can't say much about our rescue, so I won't. As he said, it took some time to organise, and that gave me plenty of opportunity to think about the future, to forget the dangers of the present". He sent them a tired smile, the strain had been almost too much, even for him, trained as he was to handle extremely dangerous situations, but this time he'd been alone, not daring to confide in anyone, not even Pat. Only Don was, out of necessity, told what he might expect and what to do, but without further explanations. "First things first. What all us want just now is to go home and forget about this place. Safe transport will be arranged, but with so many of us it'll take some days, perhaps a week. Pat and I'll spend that time with you, getting used to being free. We want to come to terms with this before going back". He saw several of the others nodding and smiling to each other. "Secondly. What about the director? All of us want to see him brought to justice, but that means a public trial, where all the details about this place would be disclosed and at least some of us would have to appear as witnesses. That would be embarrassing, even traumatic for us, and it's him, not us, who should be punished". He saw them nodding again and many of the girls cringing at the thought of being publicly exposed as prostitutes, even if they were forced. "We, my friends and I, won't let that happen. He could be disposed of, that's easy enough, but no real punishment, so we won't just kill him. Colonel Hernandez will take care of him, already has. Our former master is just now on his way to a very special prison camp on the mainland. There, in the jungle and swamps, he'll spend the rest of his life, working hard, naked and in chains, under the whip, and it'll be a long life, the wardens takes great care to keep their prisoners healthy". "Serves him damn right!", Charlie shouted, hugging his girl close. Caroline buried her face in her hands, whispering: "He has gone! Thank you, thank you!"

"He has gone, yes, out of our lives, but leaves us something, beside bad memories. I can't tell you how, but all of his assets, including this island, have been transferred to a newly created 'Camp Lucky Foundation'. The purpose of this is to provide financially for a very select group of people and run a luxurious holiday resort for them and their families. Just now most of us can't imagine returning, but I'm sure we'll change our minds. It is, or will be a paradise, a place to meet old friends, the closest we'll ever have. Twenty million dollars have already been transferred to the foundation and a further fifty will be added very soon, provided by the organisation that so cleverly abducted us". "Holy shit, that's gotta be the Mob! What kind of guys are you, supermen?" "Not quite, Jim, but we can do a lot, if we put our minds to it. And to help a friend, or revenge him, we do make our minds work. This organisation will furthermore provide staff for this place, free of charge. Some people we know, but have never seen". "The guys who kidnapped us?" "The same. They'll be staying here for some time, as servants, slaves you may call them, but not quite like us. They'll be here to serve and keep the place trimmed and spotless as we've done it. Colonel Hernandez will 'persuade' the former guards to join them, so we'll have adequate staff for some years to come, and he has kindly promised to station some of his men here for security".

"What about the other shitheads, the clients?" "I was coming to that, Ben. They'll contribute to the foundation. They may or may not have known that we were forced to serve them, but even if they believed that we were doing it for money, they exploited us to fulfil their dirty fantasies, so they owe us compensation. There's a complete list of all the people who've been here during the years. They'll receive a polite letter, reminding them of that and asking them to contribute with a certain sum of money, the amount will be decided by an assessment of their wealth. If they do nothing, they'll have a reminder, a selection of stills from videos of their 'activities', in which their victims cannot be recognised. That ought to convince them. If not, a third letter will contain a bullet". He smiled grimly. "There'll be a few exceptions. Our 'Miss Jane' is excluded from this scheme". "What about Angel?" "Our angel too, Don, of course! But those two are the only exceptions. I know that some, or perhaps many of you, may pity those few clients, who haven't been too bad to you, but this is my decision, and it is not negotiable. I expect the foundation to gain a substantial fortune very soon. Most of that will be paid out to the about four hundred former captives of the island as a small compensation. Those already freed will be found and told that they have nothing to fear any longer, that they can have the implants removed safely". He paused and looked at the grave faces. "One last thing before we eat. You and our freed fellows will be invited to join the foundation. Those who do, will be included in a catalogue, a bit different from the present, to enable us to keep in touch, to preserve our friendships, to support each other and, for those who want, meet here once in a while. I hope to see many of you during the coming years". He sat down beside Pat, kissing her deeply, while the others rose and cheered him.

"What may I serve for dinner, Miss?" She was sitting on the balcony, staring emptily at the blue sea, and didn't hear his soft footsteps. The clients had been confined to their suites, not molested in any way, but very firmly told to stay where they were. "Don?" "Yes, Miss". He came out to kneel beside her chair. "Don, why do you come here?" "To serve your dinner, Miss". "Thank you, but I'm not hungry". "Yes you are, Miss. Baked salmon and a salad?" At last she turned her face towards him, eyes red and puffy from crying. "Don, I... I'm so sorry". "Why, Miss, have you been hurt?" "I... Oh, go away, please go away. I... Please!" "Have I angered you, Miss. Is that why you're sorry?" She turned her head away again to bury it in her hands, her shoulders shaking helplessly. "Please, Miss, please don't cry!" He rose on his knees and drew her head to his bare chest. "No, but... Please go away now! I can't bear parting with you". "Then why send me away, Miss?" "Send you away, but... This is the end!" "End of what, Miss?" "Us... Our...". She sat up and tried composing herself. "Thank you, Don. You've given me the best months of my life". "I'm happy to hear you say so, Miss". "Don, please... Please don't mock me! You don't have to pretend anything now". "Pretend what, Miss?" "Don, please! I've abused you. I've whipped you. I've forced you to serve as my slave. I've...". "So you have, Miss, and I hated you when you took out your anger on me the day we met, but.... Do you know what my friends call you?" "No?" "Angel! That's your name on this island and that's what you are to me. I love you and I'll always stay your slave". "Don... I...". "And that's it! I'll be like this, on my knees, at your feet, if you need me, but never chase you for your money". "Don...". "So, please let's enjoy these last days here, be happy, and after that, when we've gone back to the normal world, and if you feel lonely, rejected, mocked by your friends, call me, and I'll be there, at your feet. Will you promise me that?" "Don...". "Would baked salmon and a salad please you, Miss?"

"I'll miss you, Pat". "Not Fred?" "Him as well, but I've never felt so much respect for another woman. I'll miss our evenings together". "No need to miss them, professor. We can still see each other frequently, when we're back in the world". "Professor?" 'Miss Jane's' eyebrows rose. "You know who I am?" "Of course", Fred grinned to her, "And as a matter of fact, I have to keep an eye on you. We can't risk one of our country's senior political advisors getting herself into trouble, because she has this peculiar sex drive, can we now?" "And just how would you prevent that, Mr. Lyons?" "By making sure that she has no need to go hunting, Miss". She stared from him to his wife. "You can't mean that!" "Can't mean what, Miss?" "Pat, have you discussed this?" "Yes, we have, dear. I've shared him with you for months now and I can go on sharing him". "But you were forced!" "And now I do it willingly". "Pat, you're an angel!" "Not quite, just your friend".

"I can't believe it's over, that I won't have to suck some fat old man tomorrow, won't have to smile while some pervert ties me up and whips me". Millie was sitting on the bed, hugging her knees. "Dress in ordinary clothes", her friend added dreamily, "Underwear, shoes!" "Sleep in my own room again". "Go back to school, see our friends". Chris looked at the two boys. "You don't seem very happy". "Course we are", Tim mumbled, avoiding her eyes. "No you aren't, what's wrong with you?" "Nothing, we're just as happy as you are, it's justĄ­ We're gonna miss you". Zack sent Millie a strained smile. "Miss us, but why should you?" "You won't, miss us I mean?" "No, why should we?" He looked away. "No, why?" "You can't miss someone you see every day". The two dark faces turned to her. "What do you mean?" "What I say or don't you want to stay with us?" "Stay, with you, but...?" "You've nothing to go back to. You've told us that you have no family, so our parents invite you to come and stay with us, or rather in one of the flats my dad owns". "What!" The petite girl jumped up to sit on his lap. "Zack, without you two, we would've gone mad long ago. Do you really think we'd give you up now we're free? No way, buddy. You're mine, now, here, and forever. You'll never be free, slave!"