She finds her old friend Richard Pembleton waiting for her

Again alone with her thoughts Yania bounced along her uncomfortable ride for what felt like hours. It was impossible to tell where she was going in her windowless box. There was a light in the van, and a fixed camera for the driver to monitor its cargo. Hours must have passed, because Yania desperately needed to pee. She didn't know if the camera had audio but the last thing she wanted was to arrive at her destination in a revealing gown full of her own urine.

"I need to pee" she said slowly and loudly, looking into the camera . "Please, it's urgent." There was no sign of stopping for what felt like ages, but the van eventually pulled to the side and she heard Officer Ross move around the van. The door opened. He unattached her from the van but her hands and feet were still manacled and locked together. Yania awkwardly shuffled to the back of the van and Officer Ross helped her down.

They were on the side of a very, very empty looking dirt road. Ross took her to the side of the van, always staying close, as though she might somehow jump out of her restrictive manacles and sprint off.

"Don't get any on me," Ross said flatly from behind his shades.

Yania began awkwardly gathering her clothing, bunching it up in her bound hands, exposing herself before the agent. She squatted before his cold gaze and released her urine in front of the stranger. The act would have been unthinkable a mere two days ago. Now, Yania was just glad the man watching her wasn't touching himself while she pushed out a long yellow stream of pee in front of him.

Ross opened a bottle of water and fed it into her mouth, allowing her a few sips. Yania remembered Pembleton giving her water that she was now sure was ****, only a couple days ago but it felt like ages. This man would have no need of such tricks, though, she was already under his power. Yania drank gratefully.

Back in the van, riding again. It was at least another hour, maybe two before they stopped again.

The back van door opened. Yania blinked, bleary-eyed as she adjusted to the sunlight.

Officer Ross helped her out of the van again, this time her cuffed hands were unattached from her manacled feet allowing her to, finally, stretch her back a bit.

"My dear princess!" A familiar english accent greeted her. Yania's head shot to the source, unbelieving. There was no mistaking that mustache, that smiling, grandfatherly face. Pembleton was here. "Welcome to your new home!"

In the face of familiarity, some semblance of who she was returned. "Richard! You! What is the meaning of all this!" Her anger had flared, her eyes were on fire, her voice full of venom. But the men in front of her were unfazed. Pembleton still was smiling, Officer Ross as stony as ever. Under their mutual gazes, her hands awkwardly cuffed together, her loose gown blowing revealingly in the light breeze, her righteous anger felt more like a child's tantrum. She fought to get her voice strong again, that feeling of power, of place that customs had so swiftly beaten out of her. She couldn't find it. She was wilting. Softer now, "M-Mister Pembleton ... what have you done?" Even softer now, a little girl's voice, and half speaking to herself, "...what's going to happen to me?"

Pembleton's smile continued, "A remarkable change. Much better." His hand caressed Yamia's smooth brown cheek, wiping away a single tear that had fallen from her eye. Then the gentle hand became rough, seizing her chin, "And it's Master Pembleton now. Or just Master. Understood?" Pembleton stared straight into her eyes, his fingers tightening on her mouth until she gave a slight, acknowledging nod.

"Excellent. Now sit pretty and wait patiently, the white men are going to talk, Princess. I will address your new situation soon." Yamia's face was released and she stepped back, silent. Submissive.

Officer Ross spoke first, "It went better than expected. The custom's official couldn't have performed better if he was working for us. Which he wasn't, no connection, making one fewer thread that might lead to us. There are no notes of her real name in the documentation that we have to redact. He never gave her a chance to actually talk, I gather. As far as the US is concerned the paperwork is legitimate, the inspection completely real and unmodified. Between the **** found on her, her fabricated history of criminal behavior, her **** on a US custom's official, and her initial disobedience to local laws as tested by Officer Goodchild, we have far more than enough cause to have her transferred onto a Correctional Farm for any length of time we want, no further hearings or outside counsel necessary..."

Yamia sat on the edge of the van, rocking back and forth with her beautiful, agonized face in her hands. Their words were barely registering in her brain now, floating through her ears like white noise.

"... I still think you should have taken the other asset over first." Officer Ross continued his debriefing, "She is more dangerous. This one could have been dealt with later."

Pembleton now, "The other one would have been more difficult to move quietly, and would have fought stronger. And when she is gone the princess is well guarded, without her trust I could not have gotten close to the princess in secret, as I can still do with the main target. You wanted both out of the way, this is the best way to do it. The next one will have to be a real ****, though, no maneuvering and customs. Besides, my way has worked so far, yes? Are your people ready?"

"Ready when you are, it is all set to happen in two day's time as we agreed. And don't get cocky, Pembleton, plenty of smoothly sailing plans have fallen apart, and the blame is falling squarely on you if that's the case. We have enough international heat as it is, we aren't going to turn the water we are pouring on it into fire."

"I understand the risks, Officer Ross, and I'm shouldering it. My risks, my plan, and my connections that have been decades in the making. That's why I'm getting the reward... the perfect retirement."

"As you say, Pembleton, we keep our promises as long as you keep yours. That's a reputation we don't want to break. Never forget though, that making all of this disappear when it's done would be a safer move for us. For now Americans don't know or care about this family, and her locals and tribesmen will be dealt with by our political allies that we have in power over there when she is removed. If any of that changes, though..."

"Like I said, my risk, Ross." Pembleton finally turned his attention to Yania. "My reward."