The gorgeous 60-foot yacht bobbed gently in the dark waters of the still Caribbean bay it was anchored in. Aside from the normal navigation lights, the white and gold colored boat was dark. The cabin lights had been switched off a quarter of an hour ago when the last of its occupants went to bed.

Out of the gloom, the small rubber raft slowly paddled up until it lay alongside the much larger vessel. The raft’s lone occupant, a man in a wetsuit and mask, quickly tied the raft off to the yacht’s railing so it wouldn’t drift away, then hoisted himself on deck. He had a black rubber pouch clipped to the belt at his waist and a small pistol with a suppressor in a holster opposite it.

Moving stealthily, the boarder made his way to the main cabin, towards the stern of the boat. He tried the knob and found it unlocked. Slipping the door open, the man entered a dark bedroom, small but elegantly furnished. On the far side, lit by moonlight through the wide picture windows looking out over the bay, was the bed. A young woman lay on it, partially covered by the silk sheets. She was tall and thin, with a dancer’s figure and a pretty face with an aquiline nose. Her pale blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail.

The woman slept peacefully, suspecting nothing as the intruder crept across the room to stand over the bed. Holstering the pistol, he opened his bag. From within, he took out a rubber pouch which held a cloth pad. It gave off a faint chemical smell as he opened the pouch and drew the cloth out. Holding it in the palm of one hand, the man waited a second, watching the gentle rise and fall of the woman’s chest. When she was about to take another slow, deep breath, he pounced. The pad was pressed to her face, covering both mouth and nose. His other hand pressed on the woman’s chest, keeping her from rising as her eyes flew open in alarm at the sudden attack.

“Hmm!!!” She gave a cry, muffled by the cloth and the hand pressing it over her mouth. Her eyes went wide with fear as she looked up at the shadowy figure looming over her. She raised her hands, grabbing at the arm holding the drugged cloth to her face. Frantically, she tried to pull it away but it was already too late. Her struggles were already getting weaker as the drug took hold and though she managed, briefly, to pull the cloth away, her attacker had little trouble pressing it back in place and holding it there till her eyes started to flutter and she swooned.

After another minute, the man removed the pad. He stood still a moment, listening intently, but there was no sound apart from the gently rolling waves outside the cabin. None of the crew had awoken during the brief struggle. Good.

Carefully, the man pulled back the silk sheets, revealing the woman’s body fully. It was clad in a thin nightie of lacy black silk. The man removed this, turning and throwing it over a nearby chair with feigned casualness. The skimpy black panties she wore beneath it were likewise removed and dropped to the floor of the cabin, leaving her completely naked.

Reaching into his bag, the man took out a couple neatly coiled lengths of cord. Rolling his unconscious prisoner onto her belly, he pulled her arms behind her back, crossed her wrists and quickly bound them with one of the cords. The process was repeated with her ankles.

Before reaching into the bag again, the man looked around the dark bedroom a moment. He spotted what he was looking for: the skimpy black bikini he’d seen the young woman wearing that afternoon. It had been hung near the door to dry after her swim. Taking it, he balled up top and bottom together and stuffed the bikini into her mouth. Then he drew a canvas hood from his bag, slipped it over her head and laced it up tight. Her face was completely obscured save a narrow slit at her nose to allow the young woman to breath.

The man grabbed his captive and hoisted the limp woman over one shoulder. Quietly, he padded out onto the deck, leaving the door open behind him. That, and the missing swimsuit, would lead the crew to determine the young woman had woken during the night and decided to take a late night swim, only to come to some misfortune. A tragedy.

The man retraced his steps to where he had tied the raft. He carefully lowered the bound and hooded woman into the bottom of the raft, them climbed in after her. After untying the raft from the larger boat, he took up the paddle and pushed off. Turning it around, he quietly began to paddle back towards the island. He would cross on foot and find his way to where he’d hidden the small floatplane two days before the yacht’s arrival. Before dawn broke and the yacht’s crew awoke to discover their mistress’ tragic misfortune, she and her abductor would be well away…

One Week Previous

Henry looked up from his desk as the door to his office opened. A tall woman with a lithe dancer’s body strode in. She was dressed in a brilliant scarlet dress with a matching wide brimmed hat, pulled low over her face. As she sat and lifted it, he saw she had a gorgeous face with an aquiline nose framed by shoulder length pale blonde hair.

“What can I do for you ma’am?” Henry asked, holding out his lighter to the cream and gold cigarette she stuck in the end of a long ivory holder. She puffed it a few times, eyeing him judiciously, before answering in a soft, melodious voice.

“I’m told you’re a man who can get things done and who’s very discrete…” She said.

Henry nodded. “I make a point of always fulfilling an assignment once I’ve taken a client. Rest assure that anything discussed here shall not be repeated.”

“I’m also told you’re a man who’s willing to go…outside the boundaries of the law?” She continued, eying him with a mischievous grin.

Henry wondered who had told her that. It was true…but it wasn’t the sort of thing he liked to have advertised. “I’ve been known to do…special favors…if the price is right.” He mentally shook his head. Leaving aside the dress she wore, which probably cost more then the yearly rent on Henry’s office, the woman’s attitude reeked of money and privilege. If she wanted it badly enough, the price would definitely be right.

Sure enough, she simply nodded. “That will be no problem. Now, I will be blunt with you, Mr. Martin, I want you to kidnap someone for me.”

Henry kept his face impassive. “Kidnap who?” He asked.

“My sister.” She replied, taking a photograph out of her bag and giving it to Henry. It was a portrait, showing two identical copies of the woman sitting in front of him. “My twin sister.”

Henry concealed his surprise. “Any reason, aside from normal sibling rivalry?”

She shrugged. “My sister and I have never been close. Too many years competing for daddy’s love, for the higher place in school and sports, for the same man… But the reason now has to do with money.” She paused, drawing on her cigarette before continuing. “My name is Louis Van Der Pol, the daughter of Frederick Van Der Pol. My sister is Catherine Van Der Pol.”

Henry whistled. He was familiar with that family. Very old money.

“Grandfather had quite the fortune: rail stocks, factories, houses, art. All of it went to Daddy and he added to it, investing in airlines, plastics, computers. When he died back in ‘58, all of it was placed in a trust, until my sister and I turn 21 in a couple months. We’re paid an allowance, enough to keep us comfortable, but on that day we’ll get full access to all of it.”

“And if your dear sister goes missing before then, you get it all.” Henry suggested.

She shrugged. “That is the idea, and I’m sure she’s had the same thought, though she hasn’t acted on it yet. Still, I would rather do unto her before she does unto me.”

Henry shrugged. “The reason makes no difference to me, but what should I do with your sister once I have her? It could be tricky if she turns up later, alive and well.”

Miss Van Der Pol seemed taken aback by the thought. Henry suspected she hadn’t thought through the idea in its entirety before coming to him. Something, a fit of pique or a careless statement pushed her to rash action. Finally, she spoke. “I…I don’t want you to kill her. I suppose I owe my sister that much mercy at least. Just…send her someplace far away…make sure she never comes back. Can you do that?”

Henry thought long and hard. It was true, he had contacts that could ensure the Van Der Pol sister went away and never came back. They’d helped him before, to dispose of an inconvenient female witness or two. Hell, if the sister was really a match for the woman in front of him, they’d pay him a handsome commission for handing her over. “It could be done. I know some…people. They could ensure she’s transported overseas. She’d likely end up working in a sweatshop or as a domestic servant…” Or in a brothel which was the most likely outcome, but one which wouldn’t be spoken of in polite conversation. “At any rate, she won’t be coming home any time soon.”

Louis nodded, seeming to smile at the thought of her sister toiling away in some far off country. “Yes. That’s the proper place for Catherine. Teach her some humility.” She said, blind to the irony of her last statement.

“Alright,” Henry said with another shrug. “When would you need this done by?”

“Not for a couple days.” Louis answered. “I want to be well away from her when she vanishes, so that no suspicion falls on me.”

The two worked out the price for Catherine’s disappearance and shook on it. “If you need to reach me…” Louis said as she gathered her things. “I’ll be flying over to Europe for a couple of weeks, to do some skiing in the alps.”

Present Day

The powerful engine of the sports car roared as it sped around the corner of the rope. On one side, sheer cliff face rushed by at alarming speed. On the other, a straight drop, blocked only by a low, crumbling stone wall, looked out over a gorgeous view of the Italian countryside. A single missed turn, a moment’s distraction, could send the expensive vehicle and its elegant passenger hurtling over the side to smash across that beautiful landscape in a thousand pieces.

Louis Van Der Pol smiled as the wind whipped past her. She expected any day now to receive the tragic news of her sister’s disappearance, securing her complete control of the same fortune. “It’s only a matter of time.” She thought.

Late that afternoon, when the pleasures of throwing her car around hairpin turns at breakneck speeds wore thin, Louis returned to the elegant hotel she was staying at while touring the countryside before proceeding to the high alpine ski lodge she’d reserved. After a delicious dinner in the hotel’s dining room, she retired to her stateroom for the evening. Louis drew a bath, very hot and steamy, setting out her nightgown on the bed while the tub filled, then peeled out of her driving clothes and sank blissfully into the water.

While Louis was luxuriating in the bath, she didn’t notice the rattling of the knob on the hotel room door as the lock was picked. Slowly it swung open and a figure entered. He was dressed in a dark brown jacket and pants, leather gloves and a flat cap pulled low over his brow. With a pair of wide, dark sunglasses, all that was visible of his features was a strong jaw covered with a couple days of dark stubble. A leather satchel was slung over one shoulder and in the pocket of his jacket was the unmistakable lump of a pistol.

Quickly, the man surveyed the room, noting the clothes laid out on the bed and the soft, melodious singing coming from the bathroom. Moving casually, the intruder stepped completely into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. He went to the bed, picking up the night clothes and returning them to the wardrobe Louis had taken them from. Reaching into his pocket, the man took out a scrap of paper and a pen. At the side table he jotted down a quick note, then crumpled it up and threw it in the direction of the wastepaper basket. It bounced off the rim and rolled under the bed. He grabbed the woman’s keys from the table and pocketed them.

By that time, noises from the bathroom warned the man his unwitting hostess was about to come out. He crept, quicker, though no less silently, to stand beside the bathroom door. From his satchel, he drew out a cloth pad, soaked in chloroform.

A moment later, Catherine emerged wrapped in a couple towels, one covering her hair, the other wrapped around her slender body. She was still humming a tune to herself, oblivious to the danger. She stopped, giving a quiet murmur as she noticed the empty bedspread where her nightclothes had been. That was when the intruder struck.

“Mmmppphhh!!” Catherine gave a startled cry of alarm as a strong arm seized her across the middle in a tight grasp while the other pressed a cloth pad over her mouth and nose. Her eyes widened as she smelled the chloroform soaked into the pad and started to struggle for all she was worth, but the man was just as strong or stronger and he only needed to hold her for so long. Already, the drugs were going to work, weakening the young woman’s struggling. With a long moan of despair, she slumped in her attacker’s arms, unconscious.

Supporting the limp figure, the intruder dragged her over to the bed and laid the unconscious woman out. The towels were pulled away, leaving her completely nude. The man turned and tossed them, casually, into the bathroom, then got to work securing his captive. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly with cords. A pair of panties from her luggage filled the young woman’s mouth. A canvas hood was pulled over her head and laced tight. Finally, he wrapped her up in one of the bedsheets.

After checking that the coast was clear, the man hoisted Luis over his shoulder and carried her out of the dark, quiet hotel to where her car was parked. Still wrapped up, she was dumped, rather undignified in the boot, then he got in and drove a long way, following the winding mountain road she’d come up earlier that day.

After fifteen minutes of switchbacks and hairpins, they came to a spot in the road where the mountain side widened into a pleasant alpine meadow. Opposite, the cliff face dropped precipitously into a deep gorge. Parked on the side of the road was a small battered truck, heavily loaded with crates of olives. The man parked the sportscar beside the truck and hopped out. Climbing onto the back of the truck, he moved several of the crates, revealing a hollow cavity at the center. The bound Catherine was removed from the boot of the sports car. She moaned slightly, the chloroform starting to wear off, but couldn’t resist as she was lowered into the empty space and the crates replaced, hiding her away.

Returning to the car, the man moved it briefly, lining the car up with the gorge. Setting it in neutral, he got out and grabbed a heavy stone from the field. This was set on the gas pedal, plunging it all the way down. The car’s engine roared, but set in neutral, it didn;t more forward just yet. The man readied himself, then shifted into drive and threw himself out of the vehicle. It rolled forward, quickly gaining speed. By the time it reached the road, the car was moving at a tremendous pace. It bounced across the asphalt and smashed through the crumbling stone wall. For a brief moment, it hunt in the cool night air, engine revving, wheels spinning. Then gravity took hold and the car plummeted into the gorge. For a few long seconds, all was silent. Then there was a tremendous crash as it smashed itself to pieces at the bottom.

Just before dawn the Polizia arrived on the scene. A peasant family in the valley below had heard the car’s crash. As deep and as steep as the gorge was, recovery of it or any bodies within, was deemed impossible but enough of the wreckage was visible from the cliff to identify it. It took little time to trace the car to the hotel and the missing Luis Van Der Pol. Searching her effects, a sharp eyes inspector found the scrap of paper which had just missed the waste basket. Written in a man’s hand were instructions for a midnight rendezvous up the mountains. With this clue, the matter was ruled a tragic accident: two lovers out for a moonlit drive to a romantic meadow. Treacherous roads and drink no doubt had played a role in things. The accident was made doubly tragic when news came that the deceased’ sister, Charlotte had, by coincidence, drowned while yachting only a few days before and halfway around the world.

One Week Earlier

When the door to his office and a tall, statuesque blonde in an expensive tailored blue dress came in, Henry’s first thought was his client Louis had forgotten to mention some detail during their meeting the day before, but the look the gorgeous woman gave Henry had no sense of recognition to it.

“I’m told you’re a man who can get things done…” The woman said, giving Henry the worst feeling of deja vu. “...and that you are discrete.”

“I am…” Henry said, playing along. It didn’t take long for him to realize this was not his client, but her twin sister. Well ‘first client’ anyway. Henry soon realized Catherine had had the same idea: hiring Henry to kidnap her sister Louis to gain full control of their father’s Trust. He gave her the same responses he had her sister and they came to the same agreement.

“I’ll be going out of the country next week.” She told him, after they shook hands. “Taking one of daddy’s boats around the Caribbean for a few weeks. That should allay suspicion I had anything to do with my sister’s disappearance.” She turned and left, a seductive scene of perfume lingering behind her.

Henry shook his head to get his focus back. “Once is coincidence.” he thought. “Twice is too much.” Both sisters having the same idea at the same time was, if not likely, at least plausible, but both coming to him? That didn’t add up. “Someone sent them my way, probably the same someone for both dames.” He said to himself. “And I’ve got a good hunch who…” Before he could act on that suspicion, though, he was faced with the problem of kidnapping two women at the same time half way around the world from each other.

Henry reached out a grabbed his phone. He dialed a number and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. ‘Hey, I need to ask you a favor…”

Two Weeks Later

Catherine grunted angrily into her gag as she was dragged into the room by the black-clad boarder who had taken her from the yacht. The young woman was still naked, apart from the canvas hood concealing her face and her hands were still tied behind her back with cord.

The trip up from the Caribbean had been trying for the poor girl. She’d been stuffed in one of the floats of the plane her kidnapper flew, making several short hops up the east coast to remote spots where the small float plane could land and refuel. Though Catherine had been wrapped in several thick blankets, it had been desperately cold and the confusion of her situation, waking to darkness, cold and the hum of the engines and rush of wind blowing past her metal cage, punctuated by sudden drops and take offs, had left her dazed and ragged.

Still, Henry was glad to see her spirit seemed undiminished, from the way she struggled as the man holding her dragged the captive woman to one of two sturdy wooden chains and forced her to sit down. She started to rise, but the man held her down long enough to lash her to the chair with a long coil of rope.

“Once again, thanks for the favor…” Henry told the man as he turned to leave the room. “I owe you one!” From the chair, Charlotte grunted quizzically. She couldn’t quite be sure she recognized the voice through the heavy cloth of the hood. Henry said nothing more though and after a few stubborn pulls against the rope lashing her to the chair, Charlotte realized she wasn’t going anywhere and settled down to wait.

About an hour later, the door opened again and another man came in, dragging Louis. She, like her sister, was completely naked, apart from the hood. Her hands were likewise bound behind her back with a cord.

Louis’ trip, though more direct then her sister’s, had been no less uncomfortable. From the time when she was unloaded from the truck till now, she’d been curled up in a crate marked “Premium Stuffed Olives” first loaded in the cargo hold of a DC-8, then in the back of a truck. She stumbled stiffly over to the second chair and was lashed to it by her kidnapper.

“Thank you again for the favor. I owe you one!” Henry told this second man as he departed. The time, Catherine had been listening carefully and a low growl from the hood told she was now sure of her suspicions. Nearby, Louis’ head came up, confused by the presence of a second female captive.

Henry chuckled, “Well, since you seem to be figuring things out…” He walked forward and unlaced the two girls’ hoods. He pulled them off at the same time, revealing two identical, sweaty faces, with identical expressions of shock. The sisters looked back and forth between each other and Henry, realization setting in as they realized they had both been snared in the trap they’d set for each other, and by the same man.

“Miss Van Der Pol…” Henry said to Louis, teasingly. “I’m afraid I have to let you know that, the day after you came by my office, your sister visited me and made the same request you did.” Grinning, the turned to Charlotte. “And you Miss Van Der Pol, I’m afraid I must inform you that the day before you visited to my office, your sister came by and made the same request you did.”

“Mmm-astard!” Louis growled, having managed to work out the crumpled pair of panties stuffed in her mouth. “Let me go at once you bas-Mmmpphhh!!!” She was cut off as Henry shoved the wad of underwear back in. Taking a ballgag from his pocket, Henry jammed it into her mouth and buckled it on tight. Charlotte glared up at him as he turned and pushed the wadded up bikini back in her mouth before affixing a second ballgag around her head.

“If you don’t mind ladies…” Henry teased, “We’re still waiting for one more person who had a role in this whole sordid affair.” The Van Der Pol sisters glared at him, but trussed up and gagged there wasn’t much they could aside from sit and wait.

About a quarter of an hour later, the door opened and a man in his late 40s or 50s stepped in. He was tall, broad-shouldered and dressed in a somewhat seedy looking suit of clothes. His face was heavily lined by years of hard living and his hair had gone gray long ago, but it was still possible to make out the family resemblance between the two sisters and their uncle.

Charles Van Der Pol’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw his two nieces, tied to chairs, completely naked apart from the ballgags strapped between their teeth. As he recovered from the surprise, his mouth spread in a wide grin and he turned to Henry. “I see you’ve been busy, eh?” Charles asked.

“And I suppose I have you to thank for sending so much work my way…” Henry replied. If there was any doubt, the angry grunts the sisters directed towards their uncle would have dispelled them.

Charles shrugged, spreading his eyes wide. “All I did was offer them some advice…”

“I think you did a bit more then that…” Henry replies. “You know how much your sisters hated each other. I’ll bet you’ve been working for some time, planting the idea of getting rid of each other in their heads and when the time was right, after some argument or fight, slipped them may name and said I would be relied on to do the deed without any suspicion falling on them. You hoped both girls would end up taking each other out. I assume there’s some clause in the Trust your brother set up that says the fortune defaults to you if both of his daughters are out of the picture.” Henry nodded to the bound girls.

“Not in so many words…” Charles was the black sheep of the family, whose prodigal habits had gotten him cut off from the family fortune years before. He’d gotten involved in some shady dealings, which was how he’d gotten to know Henry and knew he could be used for such a sordid business.

“Well…” Henry said, turning back to the sisters. “This presents us with a bit of a problem…Both of you hired me to abduct the other and see that she is transported somewhere far away. As I told you both, I pride myself on always following through on an assignment.” There were frantic grunts from the two captives, who struggled against the ropes binding them to the chairs with renewed energy.

“But on the other hand…” He continued, teasingly. “I suppose there’d be no one to pay me. The easiest thing, I suppose, would be to release both of you, after you pay me what I’m owed, of course. You can find some other way of working out your sisterly differences…” As the two nodded vigorously, Henry glanced at Charles, enjoying how the rake went pale. Besides costing him his shot at the Van Der Pol fortune, such a ‘sisterly bonding’ would likely be at the expense of their treacherous uncle.

“But I don’t think that’s what we’ll be doing…” Henry said after pausing long enough to let their hopes build up. The girls looked at him, new fear and disappointment evident in their eyes. “For four reasons…First of all, at present the world is convinced the two of you perished in coincidental, but purely ordinary accidents. And returning from the dead would only invite a lot of awkward questions, the answering of which would sooner or later draw attention to me and my associates.”

“Secondly, and I do hope you will not take offense…” Henry smiled teasingly, “I cannot trust you both would be willing to let bygones be bygones. My two associates were, I’m sorry to hear, more than a little rough in collecting and delivering you here and I cannot be sure you won’t harbor a grudge over any ill treatment suffered at their hands.”

“Thirdly…” He glanced at Charles and flashed him a mischievous smile. “Though neither of you will be able to pay what you promised, it would be very convenient if there was someone, a relative perhaps, just come into money who’d be willing to settle the debts of his dear, departed nieces?”

“Of course!” Charles said with almost indecent haste, to the moans and grunts of the girls.

“And finally…” Henry turned back to the crestfallen sisters. “I’m afraid I cannot release you because the two of you are already spoken for.” The girls stared at him in frightened confusion. “As I alluded to, during our interviews, I have certain contacts that specialize in the, shall we say, ‘recruitment’ of young ladies of certain qualities. I reached out to them regarding your disappearances and they were most pleased. In fact, they’ve already found a buyer for the both of you.”

Louis and Catherine both let loose a tirade of outraged and anguished cursing, throwing themselves against the ropes so hard Charles worried the heavy wooden chairs might topple, but the tight coils and secure knots defeated their latest efforts at escape. “Right now, there’s some men waiting outside with some more rope and a crate to get you on your way to your new home: one of Bangkok's most exclusive brothels!”

He turned to Charles as the captive women moaned and sobbed in the knowledge of what the future held for them now. “Anything you’d like to say before they go?” He asked the other man.

Charles smiled, stepping forward. “So long girls. Just know that, while I’m spending your money, I’ll be thinking of the two of you over there!” He laughed as his nieces grunted curses at him.

Charles left, promising to get Henry the money the Van Der Pol sisters had agreed to pay. When he had gone, Charles went and picked up the canvas hoods. Some of the fight seemed to go out of the girls as they saw him coming closer with the open hoods for each of them. Louis sobbed, mumbling pleas through her gag. Charlotte shook her head in disbelief. It had sunk in to the two that there would be no escape for them. All their rivalry and scheming had accomplished was to earn them a one way ticket in a wooden box bound for the Far East and a new life far harder then the pampered life of privilege they had enjoyed up to that point.

With the hoods pulled over their heads and laced tight once more, Henry called in his contacts. A couple burly goons came in, carrying a heavy wooden packing crate marked with eastern characters Henry couldn’t read, but assumed was the name of the establishment the girls were bound for. One at a time, Louis and then her sister, were untied from the chairs. Immediately, they were tied up even more securely. Ropes bound their wrists, elbows, ankles and knees with crushing tightness. Then their legs were folded together and bent back, so the tops of each girl’s thighs pressed against her chest. They were secured in this position with more ropes, lashing them into tight balls.

The sisters fought hard each step of the way, but they were helpless in the strong, experienced hands of men who specialized in handling female cargo. Soon, the Van Der Pol sisters were reduced to helpless packages, squirming and sobbing through their hoods as, one at a time, they were lifted into the crate and settled down inside among the packing material. Henry, watching the process closely, noted how the two of them took up nearly the whole space inside the crate, their naked bodies pressed close together in the tight space.

“Maybe some time together will let the two make up…” Henry thought. “Where they’re going, they’ll need to get along.” The lid of the crate was fitted into place and nailed shut. The muffled sobs of the sisters, which had grown in volume and distress as they were packed up, cut off with the tapping of the hammer. Nodding to Henry, the slavers hefted the crate and the girls inside and carried it out of the room…