Endgame

By Valentina Michelle Smith

The sun hung low in the sky and a gentle breeze stirred the grass of Wildwood Cemetery. Flat stones dotted the rolling hills, punctuated with well-maintained trees and elegant statues. Near one of the statues, a woman knelt at one particular stone, trimming back the encroaching grass and washing off the accumulated dust and grime. She pinned a bouquet of pink roses to the ground just below the headstone. She read the name on the stone again and again.

ANN CATHERINE ROSSI

Beloved Wife

The woman stood. Tears formed in her eyes as she began to speak softly, as if she expected the woman in the grave to hear her. "Annie, I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. It wasn't safe. I hope you understand.

"It still hurts so much to be without you. We weren't together a year when I went go to prison. They wouldn't let me out for your funeral. Then I was in the witness protection program for so long. Mancuso's goons were watching here, waiting for me to visit. It tore me to pieces staying away. But just when things started to cool down, those bitches from the Sisterhood kidnapped me."

The woman paused to wipe away her tears. "Look at me, would you? I'm crying. I never used to cry, but now... Now a lot of things are different. I don't think you would recognize me if you saw me today. Remember how you used to complain about pantyhose and heels? Now I understand!" She laughed at her own little joke, a bitter laugh.

"Honey, I know you hated my business and wanted me to get out of it. I still have some business to take care of. But it's almost done. And when it's done, that part of my life will end forever."

She looked at the flowers. "You always loved roses," she said. "I only wish I could see your face again, to see the way you would smile whenever I brought you roses. I love you so much!"

She knelt down again and kissed the headstone, leaving a lipstick print behind. Funny, she thought, you used to leave them on my cheek. She rose, not bothering to wipe the print off the stone. Then Diana Hunter turned and walked back to her car. She had business to finish tonight, and more business to finish later in the week.

* * * * *

Joey Mancuso drove up to the motel. He was alone. Back when the Mancuso family was a power to be reckoned with, Joey would have had several bodyguards with him wherever he went, even to a cheap motel out in the sticks like this one. But that damned snitch Rossi had shattered the family business. Sal, Joey's father, was still in the joint, and would probably die there. Joey lucked out with a light sentence and was now out on parole. He was biding his time, waiting for his parole to end. Then he would get back in business, and the Mancuso family would be big again.

Joey was thinking about the crazy chain of events leading up to this moment. He had met Diana in a bar he often visited. She seemed to know who he was, and was absolutely fascinated with his colorful past. Sure, he wasn't a big mover in the family, but he had an inside track being Sal's youngest son. It didn't take long for her to suggest this rendezvous. And what the hell, if a broad dug him that much, why shouldn't he get a little action?

The motel was out in the middle of nowhere, and was nearly deserted. Joey didn't bother to stop at the desk. Diana had made all of the arrangements. He knocked at the door of Cabin 5. Diana answered.

She was dressed in a black lace peignoir, which revealed little but suggested a lot. She smiled. "I'm glad you could make it. I was beginning to wonder."

"No need to worry, doll. I wouldn't have stood you up for the world." He eyed her appreciatively as he entered. She smiled back at him and locked the door.

"Let's not have any interruptions," she said. "I want this to be private."

"Who would interrupt us out here?" he asked. "This place is so out-of-the-way it might be another planet."

She smiled coyly. "That's why I chose it, for the seclusion."

She walked over to the table and poured some Scotch into an empty tumbler, which she gave to Joey. "You like Chivas, right?"

Joey grinned and accepted the glass. "You remembered! I like that." He took a generous belt of the whiskey, and then put the glass down. "But I don't want to drink too much. I want to be able to enjoy this."

He moved over and took Diana into his arms. She didn't resist. As soon as their lips met, his tongue thrust its way past her lips and into her mouth. They held this kiss for nearly a minute as Joey fumbled with the sash of Diana's peignoir. It fell to the carpet, revealing her flimsy black lace nightgown. He ran his eager hands over her breasts, squeezing the nipples roughly. She moaned in pleasure as he put his hands under the sheer lacy material. Her nipples began to harden and become erect. Joey's excitement grew with his manhood as Diana unhooked his belt and pulled down the zipper of his fly. He pulled one of her ample breasts out of the flimsy nightgown and ran his tongue over her nipple. She cried out ecstatically and unfastened the buttons of his shirt. They fell to the bed, grappling each other in the heat of sexual frenzy. Joey's passion was mounting as he reached under her filmy black panties to grab...

A penis!

The adrenaline rush of surprise stopped Mancuso's lust in its tracks. What the hell was this? "What's the matter," said Diana, "find something you weren't looking for?"

Mancuso bolted out of the bed, nearly tripping over the bedclothes. "Jesus Christ!" he said, "what kind of..."

That was the last thing he said. His face went blank as he sagged to the floor, unconscious.

Diana got out of bed. She started to shiver. Letting Mancuso run his filthy hands over her and worse yet having his foul tongue enter her mouth was making her feel nauseous. But she could not afford the luxury of vomiting just yet. She had work to do.

The stuff she had put in Mancuso's Scotch would keep him out for a while, but she wasn't taking any chances. She quickly changed into a black jumpsuit and proceeded to bind and gag him. If he regained consciousness she would give him a whiff of chloroform to put him back out. She dragged him out of the room and into the trunk of his own car. Then she removed everything she had brought with her from the motel room.

Mancuso's keys were in his front pocket. She removed them and started the car. Pulling out of the parking lot, she drove off to an even more obscure location in the piney woods.

* * * * *

The strong smell of ammonia shocked Mancuso back into consciousness. He was lying on the ground, bound hand and foot. Diana was waving a broken capsule of smelling salts under his nostrils.

He was groggy, but that didn't stop him from getting excited at the sight of Diana in a form-fitting black jumpsuit. "Hey, doll," he croaked through his dry mouth, "what happened? Why are we..."

Then he remembered. Diana looked at him with an expression of amusement mixed with equal parts of disgust. "What's the matter, Joey? Don't you recognize your old buddy, Joe Rossi?"

"Joe Rossi is dead," Mancuso answered. "And even if he wasn't, you ain't him. Rossi is a..." Mancuso hesitated.

"A man?" asked Diana sarcastically. "And I'm not a man, am I? A man doesn't have tits, does he? A man has a cock. But hey, I have a cock! Now what do you suppose that means?"

"You're some kind of freak!" he said.

Diana gave Mancuso a vicious kick in the groin. He screamed in agony.

"Watch who you call a freak, Joey. Besides, who is more of a freak, a woman with a dick, or a man who beats up women?"

Mancuso was in tears. "Well, well," said Diana, "look at our brave macho man now. How's it feel to be on the receiving end for a change?" She kicked him hard in the ribs. "How's it feel to hear your own bones break?" She aimed another kick to his stomach. "How's it feel to be beat up by a woman?"

She grabbed his hair and pulled his head up off the ground. "You don't know how I've been anticipating this day, Joey boy. Ever since you killed my wife, there's been one thing that kept me going. That was the thought of how you would suffer like you made my Annie suffer." She slammed his head into the ground.

Mancuso groaned. His vision was blurry. He tasted blood. "Look, whoever you are, maybe we can make a deal."

Diana answered with another swift kick to his balls, followed by an open-fist smash to his nose. Mancuso was in more pain than he thought possible! "A deal!" Diana shouted. "What kind of deal would give me my Annie back? You think you got that much influence, Joey boy?"

Mancuso was desperate. He had to think of a way out of this! How could he buy himself some time? "Just tell me one thing, Rossi," he said, "how did you end up like that?"

Diana smiled. "You like my new look?" she said sarcastically. "I bet you didn't know that the Witness Protection Program could do this."

"So it was the Feds?"

Diana laughed. "No it wasn't the Feds, Joey. But in a way it was. Looks like you bought yourself a few more minutes, because now I'm gonna tell you my story."

She paused to pull a flask from her hip pocket and took a short swig from it. Replacing it, she began her tale. "You know, Joey boy, none of this would have ever happened if you could have just kept your fly zipped. I was ready to tough it out in the slam. I kept quiet for a year before you tried to get fresh with Annie. But when she wouldn't put out, you beat her up. And it wasn't good enough for you to just rough her up a little, you had to beat her so badly that she bled to death from internal injuries. Did that make you feel more like a man, Joey? Did it assure your masculine ego?

"Then your old man covered for you. He got you the best alibi money could buy. I was doing time for the family, protecting Sal and the whole organization with my silence. This is how he repaid me for my loyalty. You call that honor, Joey boy? I call it betrayal.

"That's why I ratted you bastards out, Joey. I brought down you and your whole slime-ball family, and I made sure that the Feds knew every little aspect of Sal's business dealings, just so they could crush all of you. It still wasn't enough. It would never be enough until I made you suffer like you made my Annie suffer. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"I was given a new identity by the Feds. I still had to lay low. I knew the Mancuso family was through, but I also knew that your goon buddies would still try to find me. That's when the Sisterhood kidnapped me.

"These bitches were some kind of secret society that hated men. What they did was find some nobody they figured the world would never miss and they arranged a little 'accident' to make it look like he was dead. Then they turned the poor bastard into a woman. Well, almost. They left the guy's dick attached."

Diana took another swig from her flask. The memories were still painful. "I was number sixteen in a long line of guys they snatched and feminized. I was working for one of these broads, setting up her computer system. She had this private bank she set up for the Sisterhood. All of the data about their assets was in the bank's database.

"This babe was some kind of financial wizard. I learned a lot from her. I make more in legitimate operations now than the family ever made in the rackets. But the real brain behind the Sisterhood was Dr. Tuckett. She discovered a process that turns guys into women. She used it to get some kind of insane revenge on the entire male sex by making slaves out of men. I was her last victim. Lucky me. Not so lucky for her."

Diana paused to draw an automatic pistol from a holster in the small of her back. She leveled this at Mancuso, who had started to wiggle in an attempt to get away. "Don't even think about moving, Joey boy, or you might be minus your balls." As if to emphasize, she thrust the barrel of the gun into his groin. "That's better," she said as he froze.

"Now where was I? Oh, yeah. I got the special treatment from these bitches. I was unconscious for a month while they put me through the process. In the meantime they arranged for a little traffic accident and made it look like I died. When I woke up, I had these," she said, pointing to her breasts, " and a slave collar that zapped me with unimaginable pain. That's how they trained me to be a maid."

She thrust the gun into Mancuso's ribs. "Don't laugh, Joey, or you're gonna have some fresh ventilation.

"They forced me to wear this maid's uniform complete with 5-inch heels and fishnet stockings. They used the slave collar to try to break my spirit. They thought they had. I was a good little maid. But inside I bided my time. I knew they'd slip up sooner or later. And they did.

"Ya know what kept me going, Joey old pal? It was you. I wanted my revenge on you so bad that I was willing to endure anything just to have this moment. I could take the pain, the humiliation, anything, as long as there was even the slimmest chance I could break out and get even with you."

Diana looked at Mancuso with amusement. "I managed to get even with them as well. The bitch that enslaved me threw a party for some of the other old bags in the Sisterhood, including the big brain herself. She was showing off to them how well she broke me down. But I managed to spike their food and kill every one of them.

"Remember that bank I told you about? When I set it up, I made sure it had some special features. I had dozens of back doors that only I could access. I used them to transfer all their assets to the bitches' former slaves and myself. Ever since then, I've been knocking off the Sisterhood one by one. It's easy, too. The stupid broads are all recluses. They're all scared shitless that their dirty little secret will be discovered. So it's easy to get them alone, whack 'em, and then turn their wealth over to the poor schmucks they turned into slaves.

"So that's where things stand, old buddy. Tonight I get my revenge on you. And next week I'll be eliminating the last surviving member of the Sisterhood. Then I'll be even.

"Story time's up, Joey. Time for you to take that long dirt nap. Any last words, asshole?"

Mancuso summoned up a bit of bravado. "Think you can get away with this, Rossi? I still got friends. When they find out they're gonna kill you, you lousy freak! Who do you think you are? I'm Joey Mancuso, dammit! I'm the son of the biggest don on the East Coast!"

Diana laughed. "The Mancuso family is history, Joey! I wiped them out! The old man is gonna die in stir, and his boys are gonna be old men when they get out. There is no more Mancuso family. I wiped it out."

"You rat bastard!" Mancuso shouted, "I'm running the family now! I'm gonna build up the business and…"

"Joey, you are just plain pathetic. You are in charge of nothing. The old man never trusted you with any of the family operations. He always said you thought too much with your little head and not enough with your big one. That's why you never got anywhere in the family. You were too stupid to be trusted!"

Mancuso realized that he was doomed. But he would not go quietly. He would make one last attempt to sour Diana's revenge. "You think you're smart, Rossi? Well let me tell you, you are really dumb. You think your little bitch tried to fight me off? She wanted me! She wanted a real man, not some stupid computer geek! I gave her what she wanted!"

Diana smashed the barrel of her gun across Mancuso's face. "That's for lying about my Annie, punk. I don't know what you were trying to accomplish with that little stunt, but all you did was piss me off."

Diana turned to look at the crude grave she had dug for Mancuso. She had planned to simply shoot him and bury his body here, but she was suddenly inspired. She dragged Mancuso to the edge and rolled him into the pit. He screamed. Diana then began shoveling dirt over him. She ignored his horrific shrieks as she piled dirt into the pit.

She shone a flashlight onto the pit. His face was not yet covered. "This ought to teach you not to tell lies about people, Joey. It's a shame this isn't a brick wall. I could brick you up for all eternity. Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you shout 'For the love of God, Montressor!' Go on, shout it!"

"Who the hell is this Montressor? You're a crazy bitch!"

Diana made a disgusted face. "Montressor, from 'The Cask of Amontillado'. Ever hear of Edgar Allen Poe?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! You're a nut case, Rossi!"

Diana sighed and started shoveling. "You should have paid attention in English class, Joey. Maybe if you humor me, I might let you live. What have you got to lose?"

Mancuso continued to screech curses and pleas to Diana, who continued to shovel dirt into the hole. Mancuso's face was almost covered when he finally shouted out "For the love of God, Montressor!"

Diana leaned over for one last look at the pit. "Yes, for the love of God. En pace requiescat." And she continued piling the dirt into the hole.

Eventually the screeching ceased. Whether it was because Mancuso had suffocated or because the dirt so muffled his screams that he no longer could be heard, Diana did not know.

She walked back to Mancuso's car. Her grim task accomplished, she drove into the night. Within hours, Mancuso's car would be a cube of scrap metal. And the last scion of the Mancuso family would disappear without a trace.

* * * * *

Surveillance, mused Diana, consists of hours of oppressive boredom punctuated with moments of just slightly less boredom. This thought seemed quite profound as she continued her patient observation.

Her target was the country estate of Catherine Ellis, a research scientist formerly employed by Tuckett Laboratories. She had been a brilliant biochemist in the field of recombinant DNA before her decision to resign. Since that time she had become a recluse, rarely emerging from her secluded home. Her only companion was her maid, Heather.

It's amazing what one might learn about a person with a little detective work, Diana further pondered. She shifted her body to let some circulation into her left leg, which was beginning to tingle. She had stationed herself in the woods across from the entrance to her target's home. She had a relatively unobstructed view of the entrance while enjoying total concealment in the vegetation and the cover of a moonless night. Just to be certain, she was dressed in camouflage hunting gear. A dark green ski mask pulled over her head served to further obfuscate her appearance. Occasionally peering through night glasses, she maintained her lonely watch.

Diana paused to take a sip of water before resuming her solitary vigil. She had established the activity patterns of the Ellis home in order to facilitate tonight's step, an actual home invasion. This was markedly different from the methods she used to exact her revenge on the other slaveholders. The balance of the members had formed cliques among themselves. It seemed that once one of The Sisters had acquired a slave, she became a recluse, withdrawn from mainstream society. In light of the laws prohibiting slavery, this is a logical outcome. But humans are social creatures, needing interaction with their fellows. Thus, the various Sisters would seek each other's company, forming social contacts they dared not maintain in normal society. It was this insular behavior which allowed Diana to systematically ingratiate herself into each clique and execute the Sisters, liberating their former slaves and transferring the slaveholder's assets to their victims.

All lights in the building were now extinguished save the light in the study. Diana knew that this was the optimal time. She circled the perimeter of the estate to the utility pole. At the base of the pole she found the network interface device through which all telephone communication entered and exited the mansion. She opened the panel marked "SERVICE PORT - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" and attached a device to the phone jack inside. This would effectively disconnect the estate from the outside world by re-routing phone traffic and disabling the mansion's alarm system.

Now Diana scaled the fence and dropped lightly to the other side. She chose a rear doorway as her point of entry. Guided by night vision goggles, she silently crossed the expanse between the fence and the rear doorway. Once there, she picked the lock and entered.

All but one of the lights were out. Diana relied on her night vision goggles to guide her to the library, currently the only lit room in the house. The maid must be asleep, she reasoned, and her mistress is enjoying a nightcap and a good book. How peaceful life must be for her, she thought sarcastically.

Now she was outside the open doorway leading to the library. She removed the goggles, relying on her natural vision for the next phase. She held the dart gun in her right hand and boldly strode into the library. She quickly located her target, sitting in an overstuffed chair, reading. The woman rose in confusion, ready to run. Diana pointed the dart gun at her and with a quiet "chuff" shot a tranquilizer into her quarry, who silently lapsed into unconsciousness.

Working quickly, Diana bound the woman to the overstuffed chair with duct tape and shoved a rag into her mouth. She then positioned another chair opposite her prisoner's. Finally, she pulled a small flask of Scotch from her pocket. Even after all these executions, she still needed some liquid courage to conclude her gruesome mission.

She crushed a small capsule of smelling salts that she wafted under the woman's nose. The woman awoke with a start, confused, struggling against her bonds to no avail. Diana chuckled and said, "You may as well relax. There's no way you can break out. We have business to discuss, Dr. Ellis, and I want your undivided attention."

Diana took a gulp of the whiskey and continued. She recounted the tale of how she became a captive of the Sisterhood, and of her patient revenge. She recounted each execution in a matter-of-fact style, as though she were describing pest extermination. She then related the tale of her most recent act of vengeance on Joey Mancuso.

"With you," she said, "I shall finally realize my goal. The Sisterhood will be destroyed, and all of its achievements brought to nothing."

Diana rose from her chair, unholstering her gun. "And now it's time to say goodbye, Dr. Ellis. Do you have any last words before I execute you? Feel free to shout them into your gag."

That's when Diana felt the hard barrel of a shotgun pressing in her back.

"Don't move a muscle," said the voice from behind. "Drop the gun slowly."

Diana released the trigger and let her hand hang limp. The gun fell to the carpeted floor.

"Now," said the voice, "undo the tape and let her free."

Diana turned to finally see the tall woman who leveled a shotgun at her midsection. "You don't understand," Diana said, "I'm here to free you."

"You're the one who doesn't understand," said the woman. "I'm Catherine Ellis. The woman you were about to kill is my sister, Heather."

Diana was numb, but she obeyed. She started by removing the rag from Heather's mouth. Heather's mouth was dry, but she managed to hoarsely cry out, "Cathy, oh thank God!"

"Take it easy, Heather," said Catherine, "Don't struggle. You'll be free soon."

"Cathy," said Heather, still agitated, "I think she's the one. Did you hear her story?"

"Yes, I heard it," said Catherine, still pointing the shotgun at Diana. "We'll deal with that as soon as she removes the tape and you're free."

Diana peeled back the duct tape, being careful not to pull too hard and injure Heather. Once she was free, Heather picked Diana's gun off the floor and stood next to Catherine. Diana said, "If you intend to use that gun, consider taking the safety off. I set it before I dropped it."

Heather stared at the pistol, obviously confused and definitely not very knowledgeable of firearms. Catherine was not so confused, however. She held the shotgun confidently, comfortably, as one who was well acquainted with weapons. "Is it true?" she asked, "have you really killed the others?"

Diana answered, "If you mean the other bitches of the Sisterhood, yes. They are all dead. I killed them."

Catherine lowered the shotgun barrel. "Then in a strange way," she said, "I'm in your debt. Thanks to you, Heather and I are free from them."

"I'm confused," said Diana. "You're telling me that you are Dr. Ellis? I thought that Dr. Ellis had a maid named Heather, and that she was some poor, enslaved bastard like the others."

"Heather is my sister," Catherine answered. "But she was at one time male. In fact, she was my brother. I put her through Tuckett's feminizing process. The difference was, she wanted me to do it."

"She wanted to be a slave?" said Diana, incredulously.

"No," said Heather, "I wanted to be a woman!"

Diana's head started to spin. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the contradicting information she was suddenly forced to process. Her legs went limp and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

* * * * *

Diana awoke lying on a sofa in the den. Heather was holding a glass of water to her lips. "Don't drink too much," she said, "just sip it."

Diana croaked, "How long..."

"Just a few minutes. You fainted, so we put you on the sofa. Cathy went to get some tea."

She let the welcome moisture roll over her tongue as she swallowed. She started to get up and felt a wave of dizziness. "Maybe you should stay there a little while," said Heather. "Don't rush things."

Catherine entered the room carrying a tray with three steaming mugs. "I thought you might like some tea," she said. "You've been out in the cold for a while."

Diana slowly sat up and accepted a mug. She drank the fragrant tea gratefully. Warmth spread out from her stomach and slowly spread throughout her body. She had drunk half the mug before she set it down.

"Thank you," she said, "but this isn't exactly the kind of treatment I would expect. I almost killed you."

"True, you almost did," said Heather, "but that was a case of mistaken identity. We stopped you."

"Just a minute," Diana said. She reached down to her pant-leg and removed a small pistol from a holster strapped to her leg. "I always carry a back-up piece," she said, grasping the barrel and handing it to Catherine butt first.

Catherine took the gun. "I was outside the door when you told Heather your tale. It took a lot of courage to stand up to Tuckett. More than I had."

"I'm still very confused by all this," Diana said. "Why would you put your own brother through Tuckett's torture?"

"I can answer that," said Heather. "Catherine knew about Tuckett's process because she had done a lot of the research for it. She realized that it would be perfect for somebody like me.

"You see," Heather said, "I always knew I should have been a woman, but somehow I arrived in the wrong package. Cathy always knew about me too. She let me play dress-up with her clothes. She was always my big sister, and I loved being her little sister."

"It's true," Catherine said. "Heather and I used to play with dolls together. I had two sets of Barbie's; one for myself and one for Heather. Once when our parents were away we had a slumber party. Just us girls."

"Cathy was the best big sister a girl could want," said Heather. "But I was born male. I hated the changes puberty made to my body. I wanted to grow breasts like my big sister. Instead, I started growing a beard. My voice deepened. Nature had its way with me, and I became a man."

"Our parents died in an auto wreck," Catherine continued. "Brian came to live with me. That was his name. Now he could be a girl any time he liked. That's when he picked the name Heather."

"Why didn't you try getting a sex change?" asked Diana.

"Brian was a brittle diabetic," said Catherine. "Hormone therapy would have killed him. That's why Tuckett's recombinant DNA process was so appealing. It could transform Brian without killing him. But I had no way of putting Brian through this process. I thought it was only experimental. That is, until Tuckett recruited me into the Sisterhood.

"I managed to pass Brian off as an orphan boy I had hired to be my handyman. It was true to some extent. Tuckett examined him and said she could put him through the process, but first she cured his diabetes."

"Cured?" asked Diana incredulously. "I didn't think there was a cure for that."

"Yes," said Catherine, "Tuckett used Brian as a guinea pig for one of her pet projects. She used recombinant DNA therapy to re-grow Brian's pancreas. She re-wrote Brian's genetic code so that his Islets of Langerhans produced insulin normally. But once this was done, she started Brian on her feminizing process."

"I remember waking up after the treatment," Heather continued. "I felt so wonderful. I was finally a woman. But then the torture started." Diana winced knowingly, remembering her own experience with the slave collar.

"It tore me apart to subject Heather to all that pain," said Catherine, "but I had to convince Tuckett that I was serious or she might make me disappear too! I had to keep torturing her with that damned remote until we were finally home by ourselves. Then I had to keep the collar on Heather for months. Tuckett kept dropping in to see how much progress I was making. But after a while, she stopped visiting."

"We finally removed the collar," said Heather. "Cathy figured out how the locking circuit worked. But even then, I didn't really feel like I was free."

Diana was silent, numbly processing these revelations. Then she spoke with a quivering voice. "I'm sorry," she started, "I only wish I had known. After all you went through, to have to be terrified again..." Diana broke down, weeping a torrent of tears. She felt a hand on her cheek and looked up to see Heather.

"Diana," she said, "I forgive you. You went through the same hell I did, and then some. Maybe that made you a little crazy. But you stopped in time, and that's the important thing. You stopped. We're all still alive. And the one evil bitch who caused so much hell for so many of us is now roasting in her own hell."

"But, I almost killed you!" sobbed Diana. "I'm so tired of killing, and blood, and guns, and revenge! I've had it! My whole life for the past two years has been about revenge! Now what do I do?"

It was Catherine's turn to speak. "There's no short answer to that. Heather has forgiven you, and so do I. But the important question is, can you forgive yourself?"

Diana accepted the tissue Heather offered and wiped her eyes and cheeks dry. Her sobbing continued, weakly, spasmodically, forcing itself from her soul. She could clearly recall the names and faces of all her victims. She re-lived the horror of each death, the fear in their eyes, the eyes of all save Regina Tuckett, who died defiantly, with a curse on her lips and hatred in her heart. For Tuckett, she felt no remorse. For the others...

Diana looked up. Heather and Cathy were each seated, sipping tea from the mugs Cathy had brought in. The bond between the two sisters was obvious. There was much love in this house.

"Forgive myself," Diana said. "I don't know if I can. I don't know if I have the power to absolve myself of my crimes."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, " said Catherine. "Remember all the women you freed. Perhaps you were the instrument of some higher power."

"A flawed instrument," said Diana. "I kept telling myself that it was necessary, that I was doing this to free all of those poor bastards enslaved by the Sisterhood. But there's a part of me that will always wonder if there could have been a better way. Did I have to kill them, or did I kill them because I enjoyed it? Was there some perverse corner of my mind that delighted in their suffering?"

Cathy stood. "I'm not a shrink. I'm just a chemist. But tell me, Diana, does it really matter if you enjoyed it? Does it matter if you did the right thing for the wrong reason, as long as you did the right thing?"

"I don't know," said Diana. "I just don't know." Her eyes dropped. She had a lot to think about.

Heather then broke the oppressive silence. "Look, girls, I don't think we're going to solve all of these problems tonight, and I for one could use some sack time. So why don't we sleep on it? Diana, maybe you should stay the night with us. It's kind of late."

Diana rose from the couch. "I couldn't possibly accept, not after..." Her knees buckled and she nearly fell. Heather and Catherine each took an arm and propped her up.

"I don't think you would make it to wherever you were going," said Catherine, "so just come along with us." They led Diana upstairs to a guestroom. She was too weak to resist as they pulled off her hunting clothes and put her to bed. She fell asleep with the smell of clean sheets and the warmth of a down quilt to comfort her.

* * * * *

Light. It filled her senses. Diana looked around and beheld a world of light, of warmth. The light filled every corner of existence. It was neither harsh nor soft, it simply was. And into this world of light came another soul.

"Hello, Joe!"

Diana turned to see Anne Rossi.

"Annie!" she cried, running to meet her. She bounded like a gazelle, leaping over the broad plain separating them. She held her arms wide to embrace her...

And she stopped.

"Annie," she said, "Oh my love, how I want to take you in my arms! But not like this! Not like..."

"Not like what, Joe? Look at yourself!"

Diana looked down, suddenly aware of her own nakedness. And just as surprisingly, she was aware that the changes forced on her body were gone. She was Joe Rossi once again.

Joe did not hesitate. He reached out and took his beloved Annie into his strong arms. Annie wrapped her arms around his as he lifted her up and spun her around in sheer joy. Their lips met tenderly but hungrily, and their tongues danced and darted to music only they could hear. Joe felt a primal stirring in his loins, and once again experienced a sensation he thought lost to him forever.

Joe and Annie dropped lightly onto the grassy meadow. Side by side they embraced, once again using their hands to explore all of the familiar areas of each other. Joe lightly cupped Annie's breast, delicately playing his finger over her nipple. He felt it harden and grow as he touched it, and was suddenly aware of Annie's hand caressing the soft tissue just below his scrotum. Again their lips met in a frantic, passionate kiss that was only a foretaste of the ecstasy to come.

No words were spoken as Annie straddled atop Joe, grinding her pubic hair into his once again blood-engorged organ. As she slowly rocked back and forth, Joe cupped her breasts, alternately tickling and squeezing her nipples. The rhythm of her pelvic movements grew faster along with her breathing. Then she seemed to explode, her eyes going wide. She collapsed onto Joe's body, her mouth seeking his for a tender kiss. Then she rose up and began her rhythmic motion anew. The cycle repeated three times before she rolled off, exhausted.

They lay next to each other, tenderly kissing and touching. Annie's body was moist with perspiration. The breeze on the meadow carried the scent of wildflowers. Gradually their kisses grew more passionate. Joe looked into Annie's eyes. She nodded, smiling, an expression of both innocence and knowing lust. He rose over her and positioned himself between her legs. She took hold of his manhood and gently guided him into the flower of her femininity. He thrust forward, gently at first, then with increasing force. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him closely to her, as his motion thrust his throbbing, erect member inside her. As he rocked back and forth, his mouth again met hers, and their questing tongues once more flitted back and forth in a free-form ballet. He felt Annie's powerful muscles contract again and again as he continued his rhythmic thrusts. Then he felt a tingling sensation at the base of his spine as his thrusts increased in speed and intensity. The entire universe now consisted of one man and one woman locked in a passionate embrace as the intensity of their ardor grew exponentially. Joe could no longer contain the sensation and he exploded into a firestorm of ecstasy. Annie writhed beneath him as the spasms rippled through his loins, crying out in total abandon.

His lust now spent, he rolled off her, holding her closely and kissing her tenderly. He did not want the moment to end. They held each other for what seemed like hours, breathing rapidly to replace oxygen expended in the act of love.

As he lay next to Annie, Joe looked intensely into her eyes, once more drinking deeply of their beauty. He was as completely in love and as completely loved as he could possibly be. Annie smiled, and then said, "You're crying! Did I hurt you?"

"No," he sobbed, "I'm crying because I'm so happy! I never thought we would ever..."

"Joe. Dear, sweet Joe. I am always with you. And I always love you!'' She kissed his tear-moistened cheek. He kissed her forehead. They embraced again.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked. "If I am, I don't ever want to wake up!"

"You're asleep," Annie answered, "But this isn't a dream. It's real. The veil that separates the mortal world from the Otherworld is weak tonight. So I brought you here, to a place between the worlds, where all things are possible."

"Am I dead?" he asked. "Is this Heaven?"

"No, you aren't dead, you big silly man!" she answered. "I'm not dead either. But my time in the mortal world has ended, while yours has not. You still have work to do."

"Work?" he asked, "what do you mean? I want to stay here, with you. Annie, I need you!"

"And I need you, my love, but that just isn't possible right now. You still have things to do in the mortal world before we can be together. When your labors have ended, we will be together again."

"What must I do?" he asked. "Haven't I done enough? I'm so tired of killing! Please don't ask me to kill again!"

"No, Joe, you will no longer kill. You took life for a time. Now you must learn to give life. Now you must serve the cause of life."

"I don't understand," he said.

"You will, my love. You will. But now the veil is falling once again. I have to go."

"Annie, don't go! Please stay with me! I can't lose you again! Don't go!"

Annie kissed Joe once more. "Joe, my dear, sweet lover, don't you know? You shall never lose me. And I always shall be with you. We are soulmates."

The light was fading. Annie's form started to look fuzzy, indistinct. "Joe, remember always that I am with you. And remember that I always love you."

"And I love you, Annie, my beautiful lover! I love you forever."

The light was nearly gone. It seemed that an enormous chasm now separated Joe and Annie. As she faded from sight, he heard her words ringing over the abyss. "We are soulmates!"

The light faded. Joe was once again Diana, and was once again awake.

* * * * *

Heather awakened to the aroma of cooking food. Cathy must be getting breakfast together, she thought to herself. She rose from bed, put on a robe and slippers, and stepped out of her room to the hallway. Cathy was there.

"I smelled the food," Cathy said, "and thought you were making breakfast. What's going on?"

Heather said, "I thought you were cooking. We better find out what's happening."

The sisters made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where they found Diana frying bacon. "Oh, hello," she said. "I hope you don't mind if I fix some breakfast. I'm pretty hungry this morning."

"So am I", said Catherine. "But this seems quite incongruous. Just last night you were trying to kill us."

"True, I was," Diana answered. "But now I need to do something life-affirming. Cooking seemed like a natural thing to do. So how do you want your eggs? I make a pretty decent omelet. Or maybe you might like some French toast?"

"That omelet sounds good," said Heather. "When did you learn to cook? I mean, I know that all of the maids were expected to cook, but I would have thought you would hate it!"

Diana smiled as she cut up some peppers for the omelets. "My Momma taught me how to cook. Mealtime was always a special time in the Rossi household, and Momma always made it extra special. I loved to watch her and help her as she prepared the family meals. She bought everything fresh. She loved using herbs and spices. She would send me to the store to get fresh vegetables, bread, olive oil, cheese, all of the things she needed to work her magic. That's how I learned how to cook."

Diana washed some mushrooms as she continued. "I always admired the way Momma could make each meal special. She could take canned soup and hamburger and make a meal better than any restaurant. I used to kid her that she ought to open a restaurant, but she always said the same thing. She said that running a restaurant would make cooking work, and she didn't want anything to spoil the joy she felt in fixing our meals."

The peppers and mushrooms were now being sautéed in olive oil as Diana cracked eggs into a bowl. She whipped them expertly, beating just the right amount of air into the mixture. She added a pinch of dill weed to the bowl and beat it a little more. Then she put the entire mixture into a waiting pan.

Catherine and Heather looked on in something like awe as Diana shook the pan to evenly distribute the mixture. She added a few onions to the peppers and mushrooms and gave the sauté pan a few shakes to mix everything up. She deftly loosened the fluffy eggs and flipped them over. She added the vegetables, some crumbled bacon, and some grated cheese to the eggs before folding them over. The completed omelet was then scooped onto a dish and set in front of Heather. "How about you, Catherine?" asked Diana, "Feel like some breakfast?" Catherine nodded her assent and Diana turned to prepare another omelet.

Heather and Catherine were already demolishing their breakfast when Diana sat down with an omelet of her own. "How do you like it?" she asked.

Heather was in mid-swallow as she tried to answer. Catherine said, "Delicious. I love them. Diana, are you looking for work? You could be our cook any time you like."

Diana laughed as she took a bite of her omelet. "Thanks for the offer. I'm tempted. Cooking was one of the few things that kept me sane while I was..." her voice trailed off.

"Don't go there, Diana," Heather said, "it isn't a very pleasant place."

"True," Diana said, "but it's still part of the sum total of me. And I do some of my best thinking while I cook. Kind of a Zen-like experience."

"So what were you thinking about this morning?" Catherine asked.

Diana answered, "Life, and some advice I got from a dear friend. My entire existence for the past two years has been focused on revenge and death. Now I need to shift that focus onto life. And I think I know how I can do it.

"Catherine, you said that Tuckett actually cured Heather's diabetes. Do you know just how she did that?"

Catherine frowned. "I imagine," she said, "it was an application of her recombinant DNA techniques. But I couldn't tell you the exact method she used."

"Do you think you could duplicate her research?"

"That's a tall order, Diana," Catherine replied. "Tuckett was a genius. A twisted genius to be true, but still brilliant."

"I still have all of her research notes," Diana said. "Do you think you could reconstruct her work?"

"You have her notes?" Catherine asked incredulously. "How did you get them? She was so secretive, so possessive, I didn't think she kept notes."

"She did," Diana said. "She kept encrypted notes on her PC. But I have the cipher key she used. I'm a pretty good hacker, you know," she added with a bit of pride.

"So do you think you can do it?" asked Diana. "Think you can take Tuckett's theory and turn it into a cure for diabetes?"

Catherine did not hesitate. "Yes, of course I would. But where would we do this?"

"Tuckett's lab is still in operation," said Diana. "Of course, it is under new management. It was 'acquired' by The Hunter Group about two years ago." Diana smirked a bit. "Something of a hostile takeover."

"So what would be my role?" asked Catherine.

"What would you like it to be? Would you prefer a hands-on role, or would you like to head up a team? Naturally you would pick the team."

"You're serious? I haven't done any research in years!"

"Then it's time to get back in the saddle. That is, if it's what you want to do."

Catherine smiled. "Yes. I would love to be a scientist again. I've been away from the lab too long. And Heather could be on the team. She's a fair chemist herself."

"I don't have much experience, though," Heather said. "It's going to be like I just got out of college."

"You can have anyone you like," Diana said. "I'll make sure you get funded."

"But what will you be doing, Diana, and what will your role be?" asked Heather.

Diana answered, "As head of the Hunter Group, I'll make sure that your lab is adequately funded and staffed to perform the research you deem necessary. I think we can make quite a positive contribution to humanity."

"There's something else you might consider," said Heather. "Another area of research. There are a lot of people like myself who need sex reassignment. Maybe Tuckett's process, if applied benevolently, could help them. A transition that happens over weeks instead of years would be welcomed."

Diana thought about that. "It sounds promising. And maybe the reverse process might be explored as well. I'm sure there are a lot of females who would prefer being men. I can think of at least one."

The three women looked across their empty plates. They could feel something in the air, a sort of electricity, a power, a force that permeated the structure of reality. The decisions they were making today would profoundly affect humanity for generations to come.

"Perhaps," said Diana, "some good shall come from all of this tragedy. Perhaps the Sisterhood shall finally benefit humankind in ways Tuckett never dreamed."

"It's ironic," said Catherine, "she was so consumed with vengeance that she never considered the potential of her work. I wonder how a person can become so blinded by hatred?"

"It's not that unbelievable," said Diana. "It happened to me. But I was lucky. Some very good friends stopped me while I still had some shred of my soul left intact."

Silence hung in the air. Each woman was lost in her own private thoughts. Then Heather broke the spell. "Well it seems we have a lot of work ahead of us. But before we save the world, maybe we should clean up these dishes. I'll wash if somebody else will dry."

They laughed, and set to work.

In the near future, Ellis Research Laboratories would become a leader in recombinant DNA therapy. Diabetes, Alzheimer's, AIDS, Hemophilia, and many more maladies would fall before its awesome power. The Ellis sisters would receive world recognition, international accolades, even the Nobel Prize. And from behind the scenes, Diana Hunter would continue to silently manage the empire that would make it all possible. But for now, the three women who would change humanity for the better set about that most mundane task of washing the dishes.

© 2000, Valentina Michelle Smith