The Harem on the Hill (Part LXIII) (Patreon)

"Would you like me to get the gurney, Eva?"

"Poshel na khuy."

The walk with Eva from her basement chamber has taken a half-hour and you're still only halfway to your destination.  In response to your coaxing, the retired spy shuffles her cinderblock feet even slower.  Though her vacant stare suggests otherwise, she's fully aware she's torturing you.

What she doesn't know is that you'll soon be returning the favor.

"What do you suppose would have happened had we taken this stroll six months ago?" you ask.

Eva says nothing.

"I'm pretty sure I'd be dead and you'd be safe at home in Mother Russia."

Eva still says nothing.

You grab one of the half-dozen fat rolls oozing down her side and give it a hearty shake.  "Looks like we finally found a prison that can hold you, eh comrade?"

Suddenly, Eva lunges in an attempt to body slam you against the corridor's stone wall.  It's not a bad strategy considering how close the quarters are (and with Eva at nearly 600 pounds they're closer than ever), but you see it coming a mile away and sidestep her bull rush.  Unable to control her lumbering gait, she crashes into the wall and falls to the floor.

You crouch beside her crumpled accordion body and pat a dimpled area on her leg you suspect is her knee.  "I'll get the gurney."  A few minutes later, you roll the wheeled stretcher down the hall and lower it next to the bruised blob.

"Vere is your henchman?"  Eva's accent has gotten stronger recently.  It's the only thing about her that has.

"You mean Tina?  I gave her the day off.  I wanted some alone time with you."

Though you would never admit it to Eva, you wish you had Tina's assistance in lugging the lifeless lump onto the stretcher.  You end up rolling her like dough on a pizza stone until the gurney is covered by her girth and you're covered with sweat.

"Here goes nothing," you think as you press the button that begins the gurney's hydraulic ascent from the floor.  The motor whirs and moans in protest, but nevertheless the doughy blob begins to rise.

"There," you huff, playfully slapping Eva's side like a prized hog once she's hoisted into position.  "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The rest of the trip goes smoothly; however, one thing is certain--you're going to need a bigger bed.  The reinforced gurney holds up to 600 pounds, which you assumed would be plenty.  Now you're not even sure it will survive the return trip.

Your corpulent concubine remains stubbornly stoic as you wheel her into the isolated chamber.  As you prepare the device it houses, however, cracks begin to show in her oversized armor--ones not so easily hidden by her fat and flaccid face.

"Do you expect me to talk?" Eva asks.  Her chestnut eyes race to keep up with your actions despite a view obscured by both the gurney and her girth.

"About what?  The money?  Keep it."  You return to the stretcher and roll it alongside the padded table at the center of the room.

"Then vat is zis about?  Revenge?"

"Trust."  After engaging the gurney's lift feature, you wiggle an adjacent joystick and the bed begins to tilt.   "I don't trust you, Anastasia.  Oops, I mean Eva.  And what's a relationship without trust?"

"You can trust me.  Ve're in zis together, remember?"  By the time the angle on the gurney reaches 45 degrees, Eva's accent is nearly as heavy as she is.   "I have zee same skeletons in my closet you do!"

At 50 degrees, the gurney dumps its lardy load onto the table.  Fortunately, it rolls face-first into the proper position.  

"We have the same skeletons, but our situations aren't the same," you continue, affixing the table's leather straps to Eva's ankles and wrists.  "You have a dozen aliases and citizenships.  You can disappear."

"You have my vord," Eva pleads.  "I von't disappear."

"You won't be able to,"  you say, plunging the IV needle into her bicep  "We're going to bury that skeleton so deep no one will be able to find it."

With that, you press a button on the machine and it whirs to life.  

When do you stop it?