Descent Into Darkness

by Michael Cross

  The next day we went to a salon and I asked for hair extensions, and for my natural hair to be dyed blonde. As for Katja, it was not as vital she remain anonymous, but she also dyed her hair to a platinum look. It took a while but when everything was complete – our hair, nails and total body waxing – we looked nothing like we had before walking in. I bought some blue contacts and once those were inserted, and Katja and I indulged in thick makeup, I was certain I could walk right past Matt and he would have not recognized me at all.

  And speaking of new identities, Katja and I visited a small Russian deli after our make-over. Katja began to talk with the waitress in Russian for a while and after the woman went to get our order Katja obtained the name of a contact that was just down the street – in a small second-hand shop. After eating we went to the location and Katja asked the older gentleman at the counter something in Russian. He took us into the back of the shop, and then opened up a large mirror that was actually a door. We followed him into a small room where a younger man was sitting – probably his son as the two men looked like each other except for the age difference. They spoke with Katja, and then had us sit down. He then took our pictures and proceeded to do some work on his computer. In about an hour he handed us both fake IDs, a Social Security card for me and a fake Green Card for Katja. All in all this proved to be an exciting adventure…and now my name was Amber Bennet and Katja was Petra Pavlova. I was amazed at how easy, and quick, fake documents could be produced.

  The next couple of days were spent playing at the beach and visiting some malls to test out our new personas. Aside from getting hit on by guys, ironically everywhere but at the nude beach, it was fun to be all disguised as a couple of bimbos. Katja seemed to have a great time, except that her comments towards guys were starting to take a nasty turn. We bought some New Age CDs for the trip back and on the last day, as we left the beach to start our journey up I-5, Katja commented, “Thank you Melanie for a great time. Whatever happens in the future I will respect you as my friend.” I had grown quite fond of her company as well.

  Chapter 8

  The trip back to Portland was filled with anticipation that only entering a total unknown future can bring. I was a bit excited to start investigating, and Katja seemed more and more converted to the idea of doing whatever it would take to get her revenge, as well as ensure safety for my family. She even took on a laid-back sort of humor as we neared Salem and she suggested, “You know what we should do? We should change into our stripper clothes and visit your office to see if anyone recognizes you.” Actually, what she said had a merit to it. If I could go around people I worked with, and remain unrecognized, then I could be totally convinced of my success. However, with all the security cameras at the state capitol the last thing I needed were pictures on file in case something went wrong.

  We agreed then that we would use her car for travel from then on, that I would stay at her place, and I would continue any legislative duties via phone and internet. Everything seemed to be going well. Yet that evening I wondered how long this mission would take. I could postpone legislative duties that required my being there for maybe a month or two, but anything beyond that would be difficult.

  The next morning Katja had woken up early and, while I was still in that in-between state of consciousness, I heard her scream out, “No! This is bad!” Startled, I asked, “What’s the matter?” She ran into my room and sat on my bed with her laptop. She said, “Look!” as she showed me the screen. I could see two of the men’s faces that had been in front of the bar, but I noted to her, “I am sorry, but I can’t read the Russian text.” She apologized, “I received this from my uncle, the one who worked with Russian security. These men are Chechens and are suspected members of the separatist movement. My uncle said they are dangerous and to stay far away from them!”

  For a moment Katja looked away from me as I thought to myself the absurdity that some Chechens from a remote corner of Russia had torched my house. However, it would explain the seemingly professional manner that the act was carried out since Matt had made it clear that the fire engulfed the whole house in a split second. Still, would a simple guest column threaten them so much? Also, what was their connection to the vice cops? With so many questions I answered, “Katja, would you like to go running with me before we get dressed up and try to get an audition?”

  It was a beautiful day outside and, maybe due to the tension we both felt at what we were about to do, we wound up running for around eight miles. When we returned to her apartment she undressed and went into the shower. I looked at the time, it was almost 10am, and I poked my head into the bathroom and asked if she could remain in the bathroom for a while so I could talk with my family. She said it would take her a while to get ready anyway and that she would give me all the privacy I needed.

  I called and Nicole answered in somewhat a hyper manner, “Hello Melanie! I am so glad you called since I miss you so very much.” She then stopped, Looked at me, and said, “Well, nice hair. Who did you steal it from?” I laughed and asked, “Are you alone?” She said Matt was outside on the patio with the kids and my father was with them. Again, the feelings of resentment swelled up inside of me, especially as he had not even asked to talk with me. Nicole’s next words brought me happiness though, with a bit of apprehension. She gleefully stated, “Yesterday in Church I prayed for you to be safe.” I asked, “In church?” She answered, “Yes, there is a little Mormon Church near your father’s house. I rolled Matt’s wheelchair and we all went together, well not your father. It felt really nice.” I asked, “So how did you present yourselves?” She answered, “For once I could be totally honest…I introduced myself as Matt’s wife – although I am glad nobody figured out that the ages of the children would not have matched up. I did lie and told a few people I tended to give birth to twins.”

  She continued, “Speaking of lies I told everyone your computer was acting up and would not transmit any video.” We talked a little more, I told her I was asking around to get information so that was the reason for the new hair, and that I was perfectly safe. When we said goodbye I did note the irony that here Nicole was now being the perfect Mormon housewife while I was about to enter a lifestyle far removed from who I really was; yet I had plenty of experience in living an undercover lifestyle.

  When Katja came out of the bathroom she had full make-up applied and I could barely recognize her. It was my turn to get out of the sweaty clothing and make my transformation as well. While in the shower I had to admit a certain fear of what I was about to do but my curiosity, coupled with my desire for revenge, would propel me towards this undertaking.

  While in the car Katja was quiet. I was not in a talkative mood either. It was around lunch that we arrived at “Club Exotica” and parked. We looked at each other and took each other’s hand, “Okay Katja, now it is time to go in. Are you sure you are up to this?” She squeezed my hand, nodded, and started to open the door with her other hand. The next few minutes would determine if this would work… I even said a silent prayer as we approached the entrance.

  I felt totally out of place walking into this establishment. The bar in San Diego looked classy compared this. And while I had been in bars before with Bethany I had not been there to apply for work! Here I was, in reality a certified psychologist, state senator, and mother of four about to ask for employment in a place that seemed a world apart from what I felt was normal. Yet what was normal? I mean, my life history was not one that fit the middle-class persona that I had carefully managed to create. Maybe this could be the challenge of a lifetime.

  The bar was empty until a moment later when a heavyset 40-ish man, a bit shorter than average with cropped black hair walked in with some bottles. He was wearing a bright disco-era shirt and gold chain, reminding me of the pimp we had talked to. When he spotted us he asked, “Can I help you?” I asked, “We heard you were looking for applicants – and well, we are here to apply.” He shook his head, “I am not sure. We have no openings at the bar
and we have plenty of dancers.” There was an awkward pause when Katja shot back, “You should give us a try.” At that the man approached and answered her in Russian and they began a conversation. He began to walk over to the stage and then, without saying a word, directed us to get on it.

  Katja turned to me, “Okay, he wants us to undress so he can look us over.” He asked Katja something and she answered in English, “Amber only speaks in English” and at that he demanded, “So be it. Get up there and get the clothes off! I’m a busy man.”

  I had nothing against nudity, and perhaps thousands of people had seen me totally uncovered, but this seemed like such an artificial environment. I felt apprehensive but complied with the request; carefully laying my clothes at the corner of the stage. Katja did likewise until both of us were nude. He asked us to turn, raise our arms, and even to bend over. In my disguise I at least felt a bit less uncomfortable, but it was not an enjoyable experience – it made me feel like I was being examined in some sort of ancient Middle-Eastern slave market. He looked at me and commented, “Nice body…in a MILF way. You had a baby recently?” I knew what that meant, but rather than getting angry at being demeaned in such a manner I responded by smiling and even striking a pose with my hands on my waist and leaning to my right before saying, “Thanks, I try to keep myself fit. Why did you ask about the baby?” He sat with his arms folded, “My business is women’s bodies. Seen thousands of tits and yours look like when a woman has just weaned a baby. So you have a baby?” I replied, “Yes, but she doesn’t live with me anymore because…” He interrupted, “I have no time for women talk. I don’t care. I just made an observation.” He then turned to Katja and switched back to Russian. After they said a few things to each other Katja turned to me and said, “He wants to see us dance – first me, then you.”

  I walked over to the side of the stage and the man went over to a stereo and switched on some music. Katja was able to put on a great performance – even better than she had in San Diego. In fact she showed some surprising acrobatics on the stripper pole that rivaled her act in San Diego. The man yelled, “Good show!” He turned to me and said, “Go ahead and give it a try.” I did my best to impress my one-man audience but, half way through the song, he turned the radio off. He said, “You there Russian girl…I think we can work you into the schedule. American girl…thanks but no thanks.” I stood there dumbfounded at what he had said! I might not be the best dancer but I felt my looks overcame that deficit. I had no reply but Katja shot back in English, “My friend and I get work together or neither of us work!”

  He folded his arms and got a look that I was sure would be followed by the words, “See you later then” but instead he stared and asked, “Are you two friends or, how should I say, friends?” Seeing the direction of his interrogation I replied, “We are most definitely friends in all respects.” Katja seemed unaware of what was coming next, her face conveying a questioning look, and then the man said, “Sometimes we feature shows for our special clients. Do you understand?” I nodded my head, but had no idea what he was talking about. He continued, “I think if you can take part in our shows we can work you both into dancing fairly regularly. How does that sound?” At that I suspected this meant sex with customers so I yelled out, “We are not prostitutes!” to which he replied, “No, prostitution is illegal in Oregon. Live sex shows are not – something about free speech and expression.” There was a moment of silence again until he began to explain, “I have some Chinese clients arriving the day after tomorrow. They are expecting a show but I had a call from one of the girls just before you came in and she just started her menstrual cycle. Her girlfriend will probably start as well. If you two are willing to show the businessmen what you two do with each other in bed then I can hire you both, otherwise have a nice day as they say everywhere here in this country.”

  He excused himself for a moment and I looked at Katja. Her face was bright red and she stood there, folded arms and staring towards the door the man had existed through. I even noticed that she was tapping her foot and then twisting it into the floor as if she were grinding down a bug. She seemed extremely angry and uncomfortable. I thought about all the options very quickly, but despite my apprehensions and objections to such humiliation, I knew that to find out who had gone after my family I would do anything. If these guys had anything to do with the fire they had to be prevented from ever doing it again, and it was up to us to find out all those responsible. I quickly asked her, “You said you would give your life to discover what happened to your sister…isn’t this far less a sacrifice?” She turned to me, forming an angry and I suppose shocked expression, “Are you actually considering his offer? You would degrade yourself in front of people?” I motioned for her to keep her voice down. She again crossed her arms over her breasts and she seemed to take on more a confused look. I approached her and pretended as if I were to start crying, and then brushed her hair back over her ear. She tearfully shook her head and whispered, “No…no…I can’t and I won’t.” I knelt down and retrieved her clothes, “Look, let’s get dressed. We can discuss this in the car.”

  A moment later the guy came back in. Without any real consideration in his voice he merely asked, “So girls…shall I hire you or not? Not many jobs out there right now.” I looked at Katja as she got dressed and then turned to the man, “Can we call you back in the next hour?” He responded, “Has to be in the next hour or I get someone else – girls returning from summer vacation; college girls in need of tuition money. These are desperate economic times.” He reached out with a card, “Call that number. If I do not hear back in an hour you lose your chance.” I took it and read the name Adlan Zagriev, and then I proceeded to get dressed as well.

  On the way out of the establishment I got a weird feeling that I would be back in there soon. When we were in Katja’s car she broke down completely. I looked at her to get some sort of verbal indication of what was going on in her mind and then she responded, “I can barely handle the idea of showing myself off on stage for a bunch of drunken men, except it means finding out what the story is behind the owners. However, doing what he wants us to do is…is disgusting as it is…I mean…it is not that you are not beautiful, because you are, but please, you are a woman and I have no interest in women!”

  I found his job offer degrading as well but I was desperate. I carefully chose my words, “Okay, but if we are going to get in there we have to do this. You think I want to do what he is asking in front of people?” She stopped for a moment, looked out the window, and then I asked, “Should we call him and say we will do it and then, if we change our mind, we can just not show up?” She abruptly started the engine and said, “Alright, I will think it over, but I…just never mind.” When we passed a convenience store I asked her to pull over so I could call using a pay phone. The guy answered and I said we would be in. I gave him our fake names and he said that we could fill out all the paperwork just before the show if we liked. He said it would take place Wednesday evening at 9pm. I then said, “One rule, there is to be no cameras or video at all.” He said that would be okay. He then said, “Once you two do the show then we can probably hire you both for dancing around twenty hours per week and maybe a live show once a week.” He explained that we would work for tips, except for shows; for those we would earn 500 dollars apiece. He then said that we had to call to confirm the next morning.

  When I got back in the car I noticed Katja had bought some snacks and apologized for blowing up. She then said something that totally caught me by surprise, “Melanie, or yeah, Amber, how do you want to do this? I have thought it over and I am angry enough to kill that guy even if he didn’t do anything to my sister. However, I need to know for certain if he had anything to do with her death. So I suppose I will do what it takes, if you are okay with it.” I said, “I suppose…it is not as if we have to do anything with that disgusting Adlan. She laughed, “Yes, better even you than him.” I gave her a surprised look to which she apologized as she stopped drinking fr
om a straw, “I hope you do not take offense…you must know what I mean.” I nodded and grinned.

  She sighed as she wiped a tear from her eye, “Would you like to go for a drive or something?” I asked, “Do you like waterfalls?” She smiled and replied, “I love them…they are mystic.” I quickly gave the directions to Multnomah Falls. We ate a real lunch there and hiked around afterwards. I could tell she was still troubled but I tried to take her mind off the dilemma that was facing her. Of course I was not keen on the idea myself when the reality set in of what we were going to have to do, but at least I was not a stranger to women, while Katja was downright homophobic. I wanted to ease her into acceptance of what we had to do, but not really knowing her all that well I was not sure how. I decided to just let her work it out in her mind.

  That evening she cooked up a tofu dish that was quite appetizing. Dinner was nearly silent and then we went into the living room and she turned on the TV. A moment later, out of nowhere she said in an exacerbated tone, “I am going to go take a long shower – you can have the shower afterwards.” I replied, “Oh I can wait until tomorrow since we have not exercised that much since this morning.” She shook her head and replied, “No, we both get washed off – then we try it out.” I was about to ask what she meant but then she continued, “Look, I have the courage right now. I am not sure if I will change my mind.” I nodded, “Yes, I think you are right.” She sighed and quickly darted into the bathroom. It suddenly dawned on me what was about to take place. It was odd…it was as if this was some sort of duty, some mission, but while I did not find the idea of Katja unappealing in the least I could not help but think of my lovers who were clear across the world. I reasoned that whatever I did while they were gone I was doing it for them. They should be proud of me; of course I reasoned they would never know anyway so what was the big deal? When I thought in those terms I began to anticipate the evening’s outcome, and so I walked over to the table she had her incense, lit some of the rose flavored sticks, and turned on some soothing, New Age music. I switched the TV off and waited for Katja… it seemed like forever. Then, the door opened and she appeared wrapped in a towel and asked, “Are you sure you are willing to do this?” I replied, with a somewhat fake, apprehensive, “Yes I am.” and went into the bathroom.