She felt so isolated and so infernally bored. She missed Pan and didn't even know if he was aware that she was still alive. She hated the thought of him mourning her, and the thought that grief would drive him back into his self-imposed isolation again. She spent hours upon hours planning and scheming, fantasizing about possible escape routes, only to discard each plan as unworkable.She began to spend so much time in her own head, that when the opportunity actually came, she almost missed it entirely. She had been practicing Path forms against an imaginary opponent in her cell, the limited space forcing her to devise variations of the standard moves and strikes. She had been practicing regularly and had even concocted a couple of new moves that she though the Chief would be interested in seeing when, if, she ever got back to the Citadel.The door to the cabin opened without the customary knock and noise flooded in. One of her guards was peering into the room, apparently distracted by. " You mean, nude?" Yeah, I mean nude. Just likes in the painting. Lie on my couch, smile at me, and lets me take yo picture."Mindy would get back ten thousand dollars worth of antiques for one grand and all she had to do was pose nude for a perverted old black man. "Agreed." Deal." Fred gleefully picked their glasses up and drank. MIndy drained her glass. She'd need the confidence. When she was empty, she found Fred holding the bottle out to her. They exchanged swigs. "Go ahead and change. I'll be in the kitchen. Call me when you is ready." Fred waddled off."I can't believe I'm doing this," mumbled Mindy as she unzipped her skirt. "Stupid Robin." She removed the jacket and blouse. Her hands were shaking and she was drunkenly swaying as she unhooked her bra. She sat and slid her panties down. She laid down on the couch. I'm gonna need a bath tonight, ' she thought grimacing at the dirty couch touching her nude body. "Ready," she yelled. Mindy gulped. No man, but her husband had seen.
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