A/N: A necessary reminder from Part I of this story. Vincenzo Mazone was an enforcer for a mafia group in the US (which one remains to be seen) who killed Carina's family while they were hiding under witness protection. Then, he himself mysteriously ends up under the same witness protection program. Carina had used Chuck's intersect database to find his location and was waiting for an opportunity to get her hands on him.

Also, Carina's real name is Sandra, she just took her younger sister's first name, well, for a number of reasons.

Many thanks to NickyR for her editing, I still make changes after it so the bad stuff is certainly mine.

***Warning!*** In the last segment, there is a torture scene, essentially a variation on a theme from a popular novel.

Chapter XII

So, You Are Officially A Monster Now, Right?

4:17 am, El Paso, Texas

Carina's Toyota van was now entering the town. Yeah, Vincenzo had chosen El Paso to hide in. Born and grown up in Sicily, he was so used to its hot weather that he had most probably picked the Texan town because of the climate and the variety of Catholic churches there. Like so many other typical Italian mafiosi, he was deeply religious.

Carina had left Shapiro's clinic, got into her first car, and while in it, disguised herself as a slightly chubby, 38 year old Mexican woman, named Lupe Gomez, and then, 5 miles away, changed the car again before reaching a small, shabby airport. There, she chartered a small, old Cessna 182. Old but useful. It saved her several hours and unnecessary exposure to so many road cameras.

Having landed at Santa Teresa airport, she had gotten into this very special Toyota van. Several months ago she had stolen it from a drug gang in LA. They had modified the space under the back seat into a hiding compartment. It was big enough for her "cargo".

Carina parked the van in front of Vincenzo's house and looked around. Nobody. She jumped out of the van, took a large suitcase out of the trunk and strolled toward the front door.

Vincenzo hadn't taken any special precautions about the locks. There was no point. His only line of defense was secrecy and anonymity. Anything else would have been totally futile. If his whereabouts were to become known to any of his enemies, he could be snatched and killed on his way to his church or while shopping, … after all, he couldn't stay inside this house all the time. Extra security measures could only attract attention on him.

Carina needed less than a minute to pick the front door lock and disable the security system. She put a pair of soft fabric slippers over her shoes, opened the front door and stepped inside. Next, she put a pair of night vision goggles on and started scanning the place. It was absolutely vital to find out whether there were other people, potentially from the DOJ's witness protection program. The chances were minimal, but … .

Nobody on the ground floor. She went upstairs and listened through the doors of all three bedrooms there using audio enhancing device. Only one of the rooms had the air-conditioning working inside. After all, the Texan climate was a bit harder for Vincenzo than the soft, humid warmth of the Mediterranean.

With a tranq gun in her right hand she first check the other rooms. Nobody. Then she carefully opened the door and entered Vincenzo's bedroom. Now she could see his face clearly.

'Nice to meet you while still alive, Vinnie,' Carina generously allowed herself a half-smile. "Finally."

She approached his bed and pressed a chloroform cloth on his face. Then, after checking his pulse, she landed into an arm-chair next to the bed, closed her eyes and exhaled as deeply as she possibly could. Her heart was pounding, madly. She couldn't even remember when was the last time every fiber of her body had been so … ecstatic.

Another milestone in her life. The most important one, she thought.

Carina had always thought of her existence as a set, consequent number of lives. Like a cat.

Life number 1 ended when she was 9, with the murder of her parents and younger sister. That should have been her normal, real life, as it was supposed to be. Well, things turned out different for her.

Life No.2 comprised of the school years. Her inquisition period. The dark ages when she suffered so horribly and couldn't get over the loss of her family. Instead, she had developed her bizarre mental condition. It was particularly torturous as she wasn't able to do anything about it. She was just a powerless teenager, an anonymous student under the witness protection program, so limited in her actions. She had no power to go anywhere or do anything.

The inquisition ended when the FBI offered her to work for the government and opened so many doors for her. She developed capabilities, skills, secretly accumulated significant capital, recruited people who had provided her with priceless expertise and equipment. Pedantic, meticulous, she didn't rush anywhere. Step by step, taking every precaution, she had been working so hard to reach this moment. That was Life number 3.

'Well, life number 3 was about to end very soon.' She narrowed her eyes, as they were focused on her sleeping target.

She could feel it in her guts how this was the most critical period of her life. She had had so many fears about this mafia thug dying of a heart attack; or being transferred to another location before she got her hands on him. It had been beyond her powers. Until now.

Well, now, it was up to her skills not to leave any traces for the authorities, extract all the information Vincenzo had in his head without killing him and then find the best way to dispose of him. Without leaving any traceable evidence of course.

She opened her eyes and pulled out a locket under her shirt. With the night goggles still on, she was able to see it in the dark. She didn't need to open it. The image inside was imprinted in her head much clearer than she could actually see it. Every time she had opened it, she had stared at it, mesmerized, … hypnotized.

She quickly slipped the locket back under her shirt. It was time for action, and not getting carried away by poetry, she scolded herself.

Carina pulled out a sweeping device and checked Vincenzo for microphones and GPS trackers. … Yeah, the watch, and only the watch. How original!

15 minutes later she was again at the front door with Vincenzo inside her huge suitcase. She spread a slow, methodical, inquisitive look across the surroundings to make sure she was not making any mistakes.

Then, she took a small plastic envelope out of her inside pocket, pulled a hair out of it, and placed it on the floor. Next, she took a small pipette that contained several milliliters of blood. She removed the cap and shook the pipette, trying to spill one or two small drops of blood with a plausible velocity for a walking man spilling his own blood. Then she opened the front door and stepped out towing the large and now so heavy suitcase after her.

Few minutes later she was back inside Vincenzo's house, this time wearing large men's shoes and made a series of steps imitating a heavier and slightly taller than her man. At the end of her deception exercise she threw three tablets on the floor. Interacting with the air, those tablets would destroy all traces of Carina's body smell in the next 30 minutes with the tablets themselves disappearing in the air.

'That's the advantage of being a government agent whose job involved both discovering physical evidence and undercover agent whose job involve secret ops, where the need of leaving zero traces is paramount,' she thought to herself with a wide grin.

Xxx

9 am, CIA underground facility, Langley, Va.

John Casey sat down on his desk and sighed real deep. Then he started studying satellite images of Iranian nuclear facilities. He was here for almost a week now and was studying and studying, 14 hours a day.

Not that his other life was much more exciting. The only people he had communicated with since getting here were Agent 20, and a couple of technicians from this underground bunker. From here, he was driving back to his hotel, then back to work next morning.

Releasing another deep sigh, Casey realized that he was missing Burbank, the operations of team Bartowski, even the silliness of the Buy More crowd. 'Could you believe that John?' he asked himself.

'Nope!' he answered loud then.

But this new op looked so exciting. Very dangerous, but …. he wondered whether the new administration would actually have the guts to go for it.

An old friend of his was coming back to Fort Meade tomorrow, so he would finally have a normal talk with somebody of his league.

While reading a detailed description of the new, enhanced security measures at Natanz, Casey finally realized that he was being watched. There was somebody behind him. He turned his head and realized that his eyes were about to pop out of their orbits.

There was a really nice young, black-haired girl there, smiling gently at him. He knew her somehow so he grimaced while trying to remember where from.

"The Mossad girl. … From … Prague. They were there together with Carina, some join op.'

'Hi, John,' she offered him her hand. 'I can see that you remembered me, right?'

'Yeah, from Prague, … uh, …' he was trying to remember her name.

'My real name is David, … Ziva David...' she went on.'I was undercover there, it was just a cover name, so … .' she waved her hand.

'The Mossad, I know.' Casey growled approvingly.

'Actually, no. I'm with the NCIS now.'

'Really?'

'I had been Mossad's liason here, at the NCIS for over three years. But I resigned from the Institute two weeks ago.'

'Hmm, … ' Casey released his most skepticism-flavored grunt.

At this very moment Agent 20 rushed in and interrupted him. 'Actually yes, colonel Casey,' he said obviously listening to their exchange. 'She is a US agent now, and the integrity of this op is my job, so you stick to yours.'

'Yes, sir,' Casey barked.

'And by the way, there is no coincidence in her family name, … I mean David. General Eliah David, the head of Mossad is her father.' Agent 20 looked at him sternly. 'Although her personal relationship with him hasn't been easy, …'

'That would be the understatement of the century, …' Ziva interjected.

'Thank you, … agent David,' Agent 20 glared at her. 'May I continue now?'

''I'm sorry, boss.'

'General David has been ordered by his boss, and that would be their PM, to fully cooperate with us. Ziva, with her intimate knowledge and connections within the Mossad is perfectly positioned to make sure of that. And she has some other special skills you may have heard of.'

'Hmm, I see,' Casey thought to himself. 'Israeli assassin, I remember.'

Agent 20 was staring at Casey, as if trying to read his mind. "No, Casey, it's not what you think. She had other skills I'm so excited about."

'I want you two to get to know each other as you will work together.' Their new boss went on. 'After lunch break Ziva will take you to a DARPA facility where you both will be trained to navigate our newest UAV models and to store and handle RDX-I-13.'

'RDX?' Casey furrowed. 'I know how to deal with RDX.'

'This is RDX-I-13, colonel,' Ziva chimed in, 'the I is for isomer and 13 is for 13 times more powerful than the standard RDX. "

Casey whistled. 'RDX was the most powerful explosive, so this must be …'

'Yes, colonel,' Agent 20 added, reading his mind, again 'it is anywhere between conventional and nuclear, but it is significantly more unstable, so I need your full attention. You don't want to blow up both yourself and the mission, do you?'

'No sir, of course not.' A furrowing Casey barked.

'Good, … well, agents, from now on, you two are the best possible friends, that's an order. This mission is so sensitive that we can't afford even the tiniest mistake. The interaction between you two must be ... exemplary, ... perfect.' With that, Agent 20 turned around and stepped out of the room.

'Well, John,' Ziva started while smiling at him, 'I'll be back here at 13,00 to take you to the DARPA facility.'

'Hmm, sure, … sure,' Casey said, narrowing his eyes. 'I'll be ready here.'

xxx

12:15 am, Dr. Shapiro's clinic

Carina had just got back into her room and was now lying in the bed. She was expecting Shapiro to come in, probably any moment.

Everything had gone according to plan. Once her 'treatment here was over, she would be moved to a mansion close to the clinic. Shapiro used it for those patients who needed close, 24-hour monitoring, or, as was the case with Carina, physical therapy procedures.

What her doctor didn't know was that Carina had rented a house of her own, just three blocks away from the clinic's and equipped the basement there with everything she needed to interrogate the former mafia enforcer. She had hired a Mexican woman, one of the millions of Californian illegal immigrants to take care of her "terminally ill uncle" during the day. Night and early morning, it would be Carina's time to deal with her poor, poor 'uncle' Vinnie.

Knock, knock.

'Who is it,' Carina asked.

'Shapiro.'

'Come in.'

Dr. Shapiro rushed in. He was holding all sorts of papers in his hands. Computer printouts, both sheets and rolls, diagrams, and tables with test results.

'Isn't all that a bit too much?' Carina asked.

'No, I mean if it were only for the injury, yeah, but I need to get you through some general testing if there would be an operation, so … it's just about right.' Shapiro tried to stay professional and not asked any questions.

'OK, good thinking, doc.' Carina flashed him an approving smile.

xxx

13:10 pm, Sarah's Hotel Suite

Sarah, her cousin Lisa, and Chuck were finishing their lunch.

'Well?' Sarah asked. "How do you find the food? Do I stand a chance with all these subway sandwiches and stuff, mmm, … or I better stick to the CIA, … forever?'

Sarah had started her question casually, but as far as Lisa could tell, the last part sounded kind of serious. Chuck had lifted his eyes from his sandwich and was stammering something now.

'Wow,' Lisa exclaimed to herself. 'These two are heading for one of those conversations.'

'Not bad, cousin, … ' Lisa replied as casually as she could, 'not bad, … for junk food, I mean. Excuse me, … my cell.'

Lisa took her phone out of her pocket.

'Ha, it's Carina. Hey boss, how are you? Uh-huh, … good.' She made a signal to Sarah and Chuck that Carina was ok.

'Say hi from us, Lisa.' Chuck said loudly while still chewing on something. 'And tell her that we miss her, hmm … without her manipulative excellency, I feel kinda lost here, life is not the same. Iit's boredom copulated with uh … boredom.'

Lisa chuckled. 'Carina, you heard that? Ah, …eok.' Lisa pressed a button on her mobile so everybody could hear.

'Hi, Chuck,' Carina said loudly, 'yeah, manipulative, you think that's funny? You know, I haven't forgotten.'

'Forgot, … forgotten what?' Chuck furrowed.

'To the victor go the spoils, Chuck. The fight with Sarah, remember? I won, so …, prepare to be well-manipulated real soon. Now that would be funny.'

'Ah-ah-ah,' Chuck started,' raising his finger, 'technically Carina, I'm not so sure …'

'What Chuck?' Carina pretended to be pouting. 'A jealous Sarah is pinching you now, right? So you …?'

'No, … no,' Chuck protested, 'she is far away from me and can't pinch. Tell her Lisa.'

'True, boss' Lisa confirmed, 'Sarah's too far from him to pinch. She still can do a lot with her leg under the table, though …'

'Spare me the details, please.' Carina said. 'I'm rolling my eyes here, as you can imagine.'

'Actually, technically, Carina, you lost,' Chuck insisted ignoring their comments, 'umm, you got injured so you couldn't continue, I mean the fight.'

Sarah was silent during the entire exchange, resting her head on her hand, smirking and gently shaking her head.

'Oh,' Carina exclaimed in a deliberately fake way, 'so now you want to add salt to my wound, dontcha? Thank you, Chucky, but I'm gonna take this particular dispute to the courts. I know my rights. You'll be hearing from my lawyer pretty soon.'

Then she cleared her throat. 'Hmm, can we now talk in private, Lisa?'

Sarah's cousin pressed again a button on her cell-phone and talked with Carina for another minute.

'She needs me to get her a laptop and a bunch of books,' she said. 'Her stay there at the clinic is killing her, so I'm off people.' Lisa stood up, thinking, '... and besides you have a lot to talk about.'

'Well, Chuck,' Sarah started once Lisa was gone, 'what do you think of the subway food?'

'Actually, uh, … I liked it, you know. Even if you actually haven't prepared it, mmm, it reminded me of our Meadow branch cul-de-sac stay, uh … the morning, remember? When you made this breakfast for me and the dog, … for us. So …'

'So, … what about it?' Sarah asked playfully, cocking her head.

'You and me, having a normal life, like a normal couple, is that where you're heading?' Chuck said hesitantly.

'Mm-hmm, don't you think this is uh … sort of a good idea or something?' Sarah really tried to sound casual.

'Actually, ...you first, you know the rule, ... ladies first. So tell me what you think.' With that Chuck took a large bite at the remaining sandwich leaving Sarah in disbelief.

'Hah,' she jumped up slightly, 'so you hide behind a sandwich instead of telling me how you see your life, is that it?'

Chuck's mouth was still full with food so he just waved his hands.

'Fine, I'm first,' she rolled her eyes and sighed. 'I don't know Chuck. I was thinking of it, especially this day, you know, … I mean Ellie and Devon's wedding, and I tried to picture it …'

'And …, what did you see?' he said with his mouth still full.

'Actually it worked. I could imagine us like a normal couple and thought it was a good idea, … our future, but then ....'

'But …?' he frowned.

'But then, you know, the new dangers, the new enemies popped up immediately, and you had to do this, upload this new intersect, so, I think you made this decision for both of us.'

'Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right,' he was thinking. 'But I had to, Sarah.'

Chuck pursed his lips. He was thinking. 'It seems to me now, that, hmm … what my father has started, cannot be turned back. We all became extensions to this government project, that my father has created. It's bigger than any of us. We have to finish it first.'

Sarah was still gazing at him, so Chuck stopped. "What?"

'Nothing … just,' she flashed him a soft smile.

'What, … what do you think?'

'You know, it's funny, … that day, your sister's wedding, when I decided to stay with you,' she drew another deep breath, 'I imagined us as a normal couple, … and I just told you that, but then …'

'Then what?' Chuck asked nervously.

'Then I realized that now we can be a real couple, in this world, the spy world. We are still young Chuck. We deserve the excitement and uh, … I don't know, the high stakes, it makes our lives worth living. Fifteen, twenty years from now, we still can turn into an ordinary couple, bury ourselves in one of those suburbs.'

'Oh, so you want the adventure, huh, … I see.' Chuck said pondering.

'And besides,' Sarah went on, pointing at her head, 'as I said, it was you who chose to put this thing back into your head, remember? I was angry with you at the beginning, but then …'

'But now the mischievous and adventurous Sarah took over, case closed.' Chuck clamped his lips. 'Issue resolved, right?'

'Oh, no, ... no, … once this is over we'll find your father and see if he can again de-intersect you, whether it is safe, so you make the final decision. It's only for you to decide Chuck, … whether your mouth is full, or not.' She winked at him. 'You won't be able to hide then.'

She leaned toward him and pinched his belly. 'That's for hiding behind a subway sandwich.'

Chuck was thinking while still chewing some food. 'So, essentially, all you just said, was … a smoke screen? It'll be for me to decide, right?'

'You got it right, Einstein,' Sarah smiled triumphantly, 'it's in your head, not mine, uh … sorry.'

XXX

Seven days later, Beverley Hills, a house basement, six blocks away from Dr. Shapiro's clinic, 9:20 pm

Vincenzo's brain was slowly recovering from another sedative. It was his seventh day here but he had lost his sense of time long ago – when he had gone to bed in El Paso. For the very last time in his life.

He realized that for the first time, ever since this had happened to him that he wasn't lying, but sitting on a chair, still totally immobilized, even his head. It was such a relief for his body to be in a different position, however. The terrible cold was gone. And so was his unbearable allergy, well, almost. The terrible, impossible itching, all over his body, had subsided dramatically. He sighed with some relief. It was over. Finally.

Although it was still completely dark here, he opened his eyes and tried to roll them in all directions, gathering and splitting them as well. Exercise, exercise, you'll need your eyes, warrior, he tried to cheer himself up. His head was killing him, as if after heavy, all day binging.

While exercising his eyes, he started realizing that there was some dim light now gradually emerging several feet in front of him. There was a silhouette, of another person, sitting on a chair. He closed his eyes and pressed them hard, then opened and tried to focus on the person in front of him blinking.

It was a girl, ... young, red-haired girl. She looked Italian, from the north of course. Her face was as white as the winter Italian Alps. He shuddered. Was it the mafia after all?

Sandra had put on some make-up in order to look as young as possible. As close as she had looked when she was 9-year old. Vincenzo had come to her grandfather's home to drop Carlo a couple of times, so he and then-Sandra had seen each other.

Vincenzo tried to focus on her again. She was holding a book in her hands and reading it. 'How old was this girl?'

Sandra raised her hands a bit and was now close enough to him so he could see the book cover.

The title was a number. He could see the big digits. 1984. It was vaguely familiar but his tormented mind couldn't tell how. Even more irritating to him was her face, very familiar and yet, he had no idea where from.

Sandra pretended as if she had just realized he was awake.

'Ah, ciao, Vinnie, … ti ricordi di me?' she said casually, 'E' tanto che non ci vediamo.'(Remember me? Long time no see.)

'Italian speech.' he anxiously thought to himself. It took him back to the past few days. Now he vaguely remembered that he had talked to somebody in Italian. To whom and what, he couldn't say, couldn't remember.

'I can't, … I can't remember,' he said in Italian, his voice slightly trembling. 'Who are you?'

'As banal as it sounds Vinnie,' she went on, smirking, 'and it is indeed so banal, … your worst nightmare.'

'Oh, you can't be that bad,' he laughed nervously. He was still racking his brains, trying to figure out whose was this face.

'We'll see,' she said casually, raising her shoulders. 'Who knows? After all maybe I'm not. Maybe the title 'your worst nightmare' belongs to somebody else, … or something else.'

'Anyway, I am Carlo Falcone's granddaughter, Vinnie,' she lightly tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, 'the one you missed, ... missed to kill, … remember?'

"Oh, Dio Mio!," he exclaimed to himself, horrified, ' ... so it's a personal vendetta!'

Vincenzo had been in many difficult situations in the past and always able to get out without much damage. He needed to gather his thoughts. After all this was just a girl, a young girl, maybe he could outfox her somehow.

'Oh, I remember now,' he started softly, sighing deeply, 'I'm so sorry, uh …'

"Sandra, my name is Alessandra.'

'I know, Vinnie, I know everything,' she said dismissively. 'You've already spilled it. The shadow consigliere who ordered it, the one who pulls the strings from Italy, and his wife who insisted, who was afraid of possible revenge … as she so often visits the US ...'

'What, ... how ... did I say all that, ... when?' Vincenzo was horrified. 'What else did she … ?'

'It's your seventh day here Vinnie.' She reminded. 'Since I picked you up from El Paso, I mean. For seven days your stupid brain … or mind, whatever it is, has been under my total control, not yours. I learned everything I needed. About the New York district attorney, John Gutierrez, on your payroll, who arranged for you to go under the witness protection.'

She stopped for a second to let the news sink in.

'You couldn't resist it, Vinnie. You told me even about your mission there.' She winked at him. 'You sending back, to your bosses, personal information about the officers of the witness protection program who crossed your path. So that the mafia can track them down, to recruit or just monitor and figure out where they hide other witnesses. Clever. Your Italian capo is very clever.'

Now Vincenzo was utterly terrified. He felt totally helpless. 'How did you …'

'Doesn't matter. It's over, Vinnie. And I don't have much time for this belated socializing you know. Now I'm going after those who gave the order, your boss and his wife.'

'What … uh, what do you want from me then, girl? Revenge? Torture, … uh, ... kill me?' He was stammering now. He didn't have the time to talk her out of it.

'Kind of. First, I want you to know who you were messing with. You know,' she randomly gesticulated with her hands, 'an ego trip of mine, … I just can't resist it.'

She pulled out the locket under her shirt and approached him. She opened the lid and placed it in front of his eyes so he could see it clearly.

Vincenzo tried to focus on it. Another vaguely familiar image. He couldn't remember where and how he knew it.

'I-I don't understand.' He uttered.

'Of course you don't.' It took her several minutes to explain.

Vincenzo's eyes had gone wide open. "Oh-ohhhh,' he exclaimed, mesmerized. 'I see.' He exhaled sadly. He was thinking for several seconds.

'Well, I wish you luck, signorina, in your mission, but most probably you'll fail. You're only one girl, and this is a very powerful organization.'

'And I work for a very powerful organization,' she retorted, 'and use its resources, you know, the SISMI.'

She was carefully watching for his reaction. There were microscopic traces of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, most probably your consigliere has good connections within the Italian security establishment. It'd be too unprofessional not to.' she said to herself. 'Thank you for the heads up.'

Then, suddenly, Vincenzo heard some noise.

'Whu-what was that?' he asked nervously. Scratches. Some kind of creatures were scratching on something. Screeching. He winced. 'Ugh! Must be rats.' He so hated rats.

Yeah, she remembered that so well. One day Vincenzo and his goons had dropped by her grandfather's house, and Vinnie had seen a mouse in their kitchen and totally freaked out. He ordered his thugs to find and shoot it and rushed out of Carlo's house. The goons had laughed out loud, looked around and followed their boss.

Sandra had been hiding in the dark of the adjacent room and witnessed the entire scene. After Vincenzo and his people were gone, she had heard her granddad telling his wife the story behind his irrational fear. How Voncenzo's mother was trying to scare him as a small boy in his distant and poor Sicilian village 50 years ago.

"Stop bullying your sister Vinnie, or tonight I'll leave you out,' her mom had threatened him,' in the cold, on the street, to the rats. Remember that small baby, two blocks away?'

He most certainly did remember. He hadn't seen the remains of the attacked baby, but heard the kids in the street talking about it. They had left the baby unattended for less than a minute. It was more than enough for the rats in this poor, poor Sicilian village to get to him.

It was now time for Vincenzo to taste the terror he had spread to his victims. In a highly concentrated form.

'Remember this book, Vinnie?' Sandra raised her hand with the book in it, '1984, George Orwell. Room 101. The rats? These days they study it at school. Well, we'll be reenacting it here.'

Yeah, now he remembered well. He hadn't read the book, but heard from friends what it was about.

'What, … why, … you, why rats?'

She opened the book and started reading to him, the entire chapter.

'Exposing the face of your victim to hungry, vicious rats.' He thought totally terrified.

'It was a common punishment in Imperial China.' Carina read from the book. 'What a bunch of barbarians, huh?'

She rose and disappeared into the darkness. 15 seconds later she got back towing a trolley with a box on it. It had a black front side so he couldn't see what's in it. But he certainly could hear noises, intense squealing.

'Two rats in here, Vinnie, very hungry,' she pointed out.

'What? You can't do that to me, … you-you're not some crazy sadist,' he yelled desperately but he uttered the last without much conviction. 'Was she actually crazy?' He wasn't sure anymore.

'You think?' She slightly raised her voice in fake surprise. 'Well, I take umbrage at that. The not crazy part. Let me tell you what I went through, and then you decide if I am crazy or not, okay?'

'When I was nine I had to look at and identify the corpses of my parents. As you had placed the bomb somewhere along the central axis of the car, the right side of my dad's face was so burned out that I could see the bones, hell, you could see down to his skull. And so was my mum's left side. And my 5-year old sister, at the back seat. She was fully recognizable. But still so very dead,' … she went on without revealing any emotion.

'Oh,' Vincenzo moaned to himself. 'I'm so screwed. We should've gone after this little snake and killed her. So the signora was right, you kill them all, or … . Think, think, think!'

'I'm really sorry … uh, Sandra,' he tried to sound repentant. 'You know, if I hadn't carried the order, somebody else would have. And you already know who gave the order.'

'Well, as you know, my granddad chose to do the right thing and expose all this entire criminal craze. As did many others.' She approached him and stared at his gray, tired, and now totally horrified eyes, ' … and so could have you, Vinnie.' she enunciated. ' ... So could you. But you've chosen to be a rat. Not only did you not do the right thing but you specialized in infiltrating witness protection. How twisted is that, huh? … See? You can't win me over with that kind of crap.' she was still having total control over her voice.

'So, … what happened to me next?' Sandra had made another pause to let her last words sink in. 'Year after year, I agonized, tried to get over it, and developed this, … schizophrenia. Modern psychiatry calls it multiple personality disorder. Yeah, a significant percentage of the schizophrenics actually realize their problem, no denial, they just can't get over it.' She was strolling around while talking now. 'I read every psychiatry book to see what was going on with me. It's considered incurable.'

Vincenzo was breathing heavily. He could now feel the panic taking over. 'You need help, you …'

"See how I can talk about this?' She had turned to him, 'without any emotion, even about your incoming torture and horrible death? … That's how sociopaths are, Vinnie. Totally emotionless and insensitive toward the pain and the suffering of other people. Milosevic, Sadam Hussein, all went through horrible torture or mental trauma in their early years. I read their files. That's how they became insensitive to the suffering of others. I guess that's how you all have become the brutes you are, Vinnie. Somebody had screwed you up really bad when you were younger. It's the abc of psychiatry, I don't even need you to confirm it.'

She turned around and leaned over the box to check something.

'Soon, dear, soon,' she sang to them. 'Name is John, of the bigger rat, I mean.' she was pointing at the box. The smaller one is Chuck, or Chucky as I call him. You'll get to know them pretty soon.'

'You have to end your own miserable existence, you crazy bitch!' a panicked Vincenzo quietly hissed at her. He was totally losing control of his thoughts, voice. The idea of those squealing and scratching rats attacking his face, going after his eyes was taking over his mind. Their stench had already reached him.

'Hmm, right Vinnie, you're right. But I'm going to kill myself only after I finish with you and the shadow consigliere. And his wife of course.' She winked at him. 'Or who knows. After I get my closure, I may actually calm down. Get back to normal, everything's possible in this world.'

'You, crazy …!' he wanted to yell but his voice was abandoning him. Something unintelligible had come out of his mouth instead.

Carina punched him in the jaw and while he was still dizzy from the blow, managed to duct tape his mouth shut.

'There is nothing more that I need to hear from you.' Sandra said calmly. 'So you shut up. You probably forgot that I'm the one who has 100% control over you.' She smiled at him.

"So,' she went on in her typical emotionless fashion, 'where were we? Ah, the rats. Here is what will happen once I strap the box to your face and then slid up its front door.'

She sat on her chair and started reading from Orwell's book again.

'These starving brutes will shoot out of it like bullets. Have you ever seen a rat leap through the air? They will leap on to your face and bore straight to it. Sometimes they attack the eyes first.'

Carina made a pause. 'Remember the bible, Vinnie? An eye for an eye. Well, I saw my parents in the morgue. Each of them had just lost one eye thanks to your car bomb. So it's two of my parents' eyes for two of yours. Sounds fair to me.' she winked at him again, carefully observing the effect of her words.

Vincenzo was trying to control the horror, the panic. An alpha male, he was desperately and feverishly trying to figure out something. But the horror of the incoming was taking over and he couldn't resist it. He couldn't think anymore. He couldn't say a word anyway. She had deprived him even from the opportunity to scream or beg, humiliate himself.

Carina returned to the book. 'Sometimes they burrow through the cheeks and devour the tongue.'

'Do you want me to continue, Vinnie?' she asked gently.

He was trying to signal that he didn't.

'Ok, ok, I won't. And I don't have the time for all this snobbish exercise in contemporary English literature, anyway. And you're not a literature buff after all, are you?'

She stood up and leaned over him again.

'But there is the really bad news for you Vinnie. In this book they use the rats only to break their victim, so he starts screaming, begging them to do it to his love, Julia, instead on him and after that, they leave him alone. They don't need him dead, just his spirit, his soul totally broken. A sorry shadow of himself.'

'Your case is different. I can't let you live. It'll compromise my operation. And most importantly, I don't need to break you. I need you to feel some of the horror I felt for over ten years.'

She made another pause. 'So, we'll have to proceed with this, to the very end.' she tapped him on his shoulder. "Yeah," she thought, "his eyes are already radiating horror, insane horror."

Sandra looked at her watch.

'Hmm,' she cleared her throat, 'it'll take one to two minutes for John and Chucky, the rats you know, to reach your brain or for you to bleed to death. An eye for an eye Vinnie, remember? My nine years of suffering, against your one minute, minute and a half, tops. Not such a bad deal after all.'

She could see how he was going mad. She drew the trolley closer and turned it at 90 degrees. Vinnie could see now through the left, transparent side of the box. Two gigantic rats there, obviously in different compartments. They were ecstatic about something. Squealing like mad.

She pushed the trolley with the box closer to his face. Vincenzo looked like he was making desperate efforts to tear himself off the chair. To no avail. He was so tightly strapped that he couldn't have moved. Even his head was fixed to the board behind him. Now he couldn't even say a word. He was screaming inside, muffled sounds going out but Sandra looked totally unmoved.

'Could you hear the rats squealing, scratching? I have kept them hungry for more than 24 hours, for you Vinnie.'

She drew the trolley even closer to him. The box was now about 10 inches away from him. He could smell the stench as if it was coming from inside his head. Their horrible odor had hit him directly into the nostrils. He could hear their squealing and scratching real loud. The horror was shutting down his brain.

Sandra leaned in and started whispering to him. 'So, that's it, Vinnie. I will press this end of the box to your face and slid up this separation to let the rats loose. You earned it. Once you do something horrible to people, a vicious circle is started. For you the circle ends here. For me, after dealing with the rest of your criminal organization, and especially this shadow consigliere, I'll kill myself so this whole madness is finally over. Enjoy your end.'

'Ciao Vinnie!'

With that Sandra pressed the dark side of the box to his face and used the straps hanging from its sides to tighten it to the board behind his head. Then she switched the lights off.

Sandra leaned toward him and said. "I'm letting the rats loose in ten seconds.'

'Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, …'

Click.

She had pulled the separation wall up so the rats rushed ahead exactly as Orwell had predicted in his famous novel. She could see that through the left transparent side plane of the box.

But the rat, as it was only one that she released couldn't reach his face. Only the tip of Vincenzo's nose. About two inches away from his face, there was another, painted in black, plastic separation wall so Vinni couldn't see it. It had a small hole in the middle so the rat could only reach and scratch his nose while squealing ferociously, scratching and biting the wall instead.

After 15 seconds she unstrapped his head and moved the trolley away.

She took a flashlight, turned it on and pointed at Vinnie's right eye, … then the left. Tey were lifeless. His brain had definitely short-circuited. She removed the tape from his mouth. He was uttering something unintelligible, some sort of grunting.

Sandra sat down on her chair and exhaled deeply. She knew all too well what was about to happen now.

Little Carina popped out in front of her, casting one of her sternest glances at her elder sister.

'So,' little Carina started, 'now you are officially a monster, congratulations! That was inhumanly cruel, you know that, right?'

'Tell me something I don't know, little sis,' Sandra retorted.

'Oh, and that's all?'

'What, what do you expect me to say?'

'I was hoping for a rebuttal, a long and complicated explanation how the government failed to deliver justice, how you suffered in the morgue while staring at our dead bodies, what a brute this Vincenzo is, was, is.'

'See,' Sandra said bitterly, 'you know the drill. I don't need to explain anything to you. And you forget the most important reason. I'm not mellowing. Not until this mission is over. If I get soft, there will be a mistake, a trace left somewhere and it'll be a "mission failed". I simply can't afford that. His brain had to be shut down. I don't want to kill a defenseless person.'

'Oh, scruples. You didn't want to kill him.' her little sister rolled her eyes. 'Just torture him in this … despicable way.'

'It's called revenge, Carina. He had to suffer a tiny part of what I went through.'

'A tiny part? This was pure terror. Although only his nose was scratched, you know, this was unhuman. The mental suffering.'

'And I don't even pretend to be a human, little sister. I'm not 'the good guy'. And this is not a Hollywood movie or something. I think we'd cleared that.'

Sandra had raised her voice.

'I'm a warrior. My mission is to shut down this criminal gang and I'm doing it the best way. Once it is over, the warrior will be shut down. End of story.'

'Oh, this reminds me,' little Carina furrowed, 'so you plan on killing yourself, right? Killing me in the process and this new guy, that got here from nowhere, Bryce … what was his name?'

'Larkin, Bryce Larkin.' Sandra uttered, 'and yeah, after it's over, if I don't get closure, … don't get well, here,' Sandra pointed at her head, 'I'll have to kill myself.'

'Thank you, sis,' Carina said sarcastically, nodding her head. 'You really know how to take care of your loved ones.'

'Yes, I do, little sister, I actually do.' With that Sandra shook her head to get rid of the image and checked on Vincenzo again.

She kept him there for three more days, just to make sure he was totally incommunicable.

A week later a Mexican gang, specialized in smuggling people into the US, transferred him out of the country, and another seven days later, Vincenzo, sitting in a wheelchair, was delivered to the gate of a shabby asylum in the small Chilean town of Puerto Cisnes.

xxx