One Fake Death Later

Anna: “Are you sure this is going to work Brandon?"

Brandon: “I’m sure. Come on, we’ve been planning this for months! Now’s not the time to start questioning our plan."

Anna: “I know, but you know me. I just get worried. This could go so wrong so easily. One mistake and the entire plan goes to shit."

Brandon: “Well I guess we just can’t make any mistakes then, can we?"

Anna: “I guess not"

I hugged Anna tightly. Finally, we were going to get out of this. After months of running the biggest drug cartel in the western world, we were getting out. It wasn’t going to be easy. We had to make sure that nothing went wrong. The entire United States government, police force, every agency wanted us captured. The main opposing cartel would like nothing more than to see me dead. But if I were to betray my own cartel by leaving, they’d want nothing more than to see my die as well. There was no way to make everyone happy, so instead I had only one option. It would make two of the three happy, and the other one very, very dead.

This was something we thought about immediately. I got roped into the drug cartel business when I was at my lowest. I had no way to provide for my family, I had injuries that prevented me from doing work, and so on. There were a lot of reasons for what I did. I never expected it to get to this point. I always assumed that I would just be a mid level player for as long as they wanted me. But then things escalated. I got more and more involved. Until there was me and the leader at the time clashing. And in those kinds of clashes, only one of you comes out alive. I was lucky enough that it was me. And in those situations, rather than disband the cartel, they look to you as the new leader. It was all very bizarre, but it forced me to live a life that I hated for months. And once you’re the leader like I was, you can’t just decide one day that you’re not cut out for it and that it’s time to call it quits. You’re in it for life. Or so everyone thinks. Luckily, I had developed a plan to get out without giving up my life.

Cartels, much like crime families, are huge. But ninety-nine percent of them are just low level pushers and soldiers. There are very few members who have real control. Once one of them dies, or gets captured, or betrays the cartel, the rest of these high-level members find someone to replace them. That’s how the cartel stays alive while things are always changing. But if you were to somehow kill every single one of those power members at once, than the low-level guys would have nobody to take orders from. Nobody to lead them. Without leaders, the cartel would die off almost immediately. The low level guys do it for money, and if nobody is paying them anymore, than they have no reason to not go find another cartel and join up there. Plus, none of them have enough power or respect to actually take control and have others follow them. So the first part of my plan was to get everyone together in one place.

It took a lot of work, but I had done it. Months of convincing leaders that it was a good idea to have a big meeting with everyone who held power in the cartel attending. We would discuss plans for the upcoming year, new deals, old ones, and so on. Call it an annual meeting. It’s amazing how much business acumen is needed to run a drug cartel. But once I had convinced them to meet, then I knew we were in business.

Part two, which actually started taking place before the first part, seemed harder than it ended up being. I knew that there were undercover agents inside the cartel that were working for the DEA. We had some in the DEA as well. It was always a big back and forth between us. But anyways, back to my plan. I had to convince them that Anna was my prisoner, and not my partner. It was easy from early on, because Anna essentially was the cartel’s prisoner. So once we got to Mexico full-time, Anna immediately dyed her hair jet black and changed it up. She wore a ton of makeup, and by the end of all of that she hardly looked like what she did without any of it. Then I found a girl that looked enough like Anna that nobody in the cartel could ever tell the difference. Did I feel bad about holding her hostage for months, forcing her to pretend to be Anna? Sure, but it was a necessary evil. If it meant getting Anna and I to safety, then I didn’t care what I had to do, who I had to take hostage, who I had to kill to get us there. I was beyond the point of remorse for these kinds of things.

So I got the girl. She was kept in a basement, in a room that she was not allowed to leave. I kept her fed, she had TV to watch, she was allowed to write, read, do everything other than interact with the outside world. She never seemed to complain. But then again, she ran away from her home to be with her boyfriend, who was a low-level member of the cartel. They both didn’t know what the reason was for me keeping her, but they both understood it was for the good of everyone. It was incredible how obedient members were to me, their leader. Besides, as of right now, her and her boyfriend were on a one-way trip to the south of Argentina with more money than they’d ever need. Meanwhile, Anna lived a semi-regular life, living quietly in a small house in a town near where my main hideout was. I would often go and check on her when I could, just to make sure everything was alright. The cartels knew that she was one of mine, so she was pretty safe from everything.

So these two things were the biggest things, and they had gone off without a hitch. I had heard back from inside the DEA. They knew that Anna was being held hostage. This furthered their belief that she had been forced into all of this. That’s what I needed them to believe for this to work.

Brandon: “So you know exactly when and where the meeting is going down right? If they miss this chance, it’s over"

Anna: “Sure do. March nineteenth, at exactly noon. And I know the house, I’ve memorized it on maps and I know the address."

Brandon: “Alright, good. Once you get to the embassy, you’re on your own. We’ll just have to trust each other that we can each get both parts of the plan right"

Anna: “You know I trust you Brandon. I just know that so many things can go wrong"

Brandon: “They won’t. I promise Anna"

Anna: “Alright. How do I look?"

I took a step back so that I could see Anna in her entirety. She sure did a good job of looking the part of a prisoner. She had dyed her hair back to it’s original blonde color, and washed all of her makeup off her face. Her hair was dirty and greasy and knotted and ripped. Her clothes looked old and were torn in a lot of places. She was covered in dirt, and even some dried blood.

Brandon: “Like you’ve just escaped my captivity after sex months of being held against your will"

Anna: “Oh my god...it...it was horrible. The t-t-things I had t-to go through. The...it...I just can’t…"

Brandon: “Did anyone ever tell you that you should get into acting?"

Anna: “Oh, once or twice."

I checked my watch. It was time for me to get back. My soldiers would soon be realizing that ‘Anna’ was missing. When that happened, I had to lose my shit. I had to make everyone believe that I really was angry that Anna had escaped. And then I had to move our meeting to the emergency secondary location. The place that would be so easy to be breached if people knew we were meeting there.

Brandon: “Alright, time to go. See you in a few months"

I hugged Anna tightly and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled as she backed up, before turning around and running out the door. I watched as she sprinted down the road, heading towards the embassy. I watched her until she turned a corner and was out of sight. Now, it was my turn.


Brandon: “So you can really do this? You can really make this work?"

Doctor: “Of course. You have had your men change the records, correct?"

Brandon: “Yeah, they did. Exactly to the specifications of what you said. Changed blood type, DNA evidence, and so on"

Doctor: “Good. Here, come see for yourself."

The next part of the plan was allowing me to die, without me actually dying. I had to convince the FBI and the DEA that the Brandon they were after was dead. So that’s where the Doctor came into the plan. He was someone I had made contact with through Anna’s ex-husband Gianni, head of the Giordano crime family. He was a black market doctor who was the guy you went to when you needed any kind of surgery, transplant, and such. But his real specialty was something far greater. The Doctor was the man to go to when you needed to fake your death and disappear. He was able to take someone, make them into you, and then arrange for their deaths. When they were found, they were in bad enough condition and their blood and DNA matched that of your own, that you were declared dead. Then you could disappear and live a normal life.

Now that wasn’t exactly what I was doing. I still planned to return to the United States. So it was a little different. I had to use inside men and some computer technicians that I knew to breach the FBI and DEA files. I was able to change the blood that they found at any of my crime scenes from when I was looked at by those two agencies. There were only a few samples, as they really did not have a ton of evidence that it was actually me at those scenes. Which worked in my favor. So now I needed the Doctor to make this man like me, but without the exact same DNA as me. He would have that which matched the evidence that was found at those scenes. The evidence that I had had altered to ensure that it would work. When they killed this man, they would see that everything matched things they had found from any old crime scenes of mine. But if they tried to match it to any of my tests from earlier in my life, they would not. And that was how I was going to return. That and a lot of acting. Of course this was all provided that the rest of my plan was actually going to work.

The Doctor pulled back the curtain so that I could see the man lying on the table. It was as if I was looking into a mirror. The man on the table looked identical to me. Same hairstyle and color, same facial hair, same scars, same everything. If you put me and this man side by side, you would hardly be able to tell the difference. If we weren’t side by side, you’d have no idea. Now if he were shot multiple times or perhaps burned? Impossible to tell. That was the plan.

Brandon: “Wow. You weren’t kidding"

Doctor: “This is my work. I pride myself on being very good at what I do. Nobody will be able to tell the difference, especially when they match his blood and all other identifiable traits to what they have in their database. This man will be you"

Brandon: “Perfect. So he’s going to be ready to go for the date that I requested?"

Doctor: “He’ll be ready."

Brandon: “Good. Thank you Doctor. If all goes well, I’ll never have to see you again"

I walked out of the room and back towards the exit of the building. Once the man was done and brought him to the proper location, at the right time, then the final step could go into effect. That was still three weeks away though. For now, I had to wait and continue my act. If even a single person suspected that something was off, then everything was doomed. It had to be perfect.


And so I watched from a distance. I was in a rival cartel safe house, near where all of my cartel’s leaders were about to meet for the only time this year. They entered the building one at a time, security out front and around the area patrolling. I had inspected it earlier and found a few well placed explosives, no doubt placed there by the Mexican Marines. But I wanted this to go as badly as possible. So I gave the okay. And now I watched from the safety of a nearby house, as the entire leadership of my cartel entered the building. I checked my watch. Any second now a car would be pulling up behind the building, and the man that the Doctor had made to be me would get out. And sure enough, an unmarked red car pulled up, barely stopping as the man exited the car and it sped off. The man walked into the building. Any second now the leaders would realize that this wasn’t me and alert the security. I just had to pray that the Marines and DEA were ready to move and move fast. There was no way that they didn’t see ‘me’ enter. Sure enough, I watched as one of the security guards reached for a walkie, before dropping to the ground motionless. I could hear more gunshots and more of the security dropping like flies.

Suddenly, explosions. The building rocked with the force of the detonations as I watched hundreds of men in full tactical gear storm the streets and into the building. Gunshots rang out across the city streets as armored vehicles sped out of nowhere into the street as more men jumped out of them and set up. I kept watching as fire burned in the building and gunshots rang out, albeit at a lesser pace than before. Nobody was escaping out the back entrance, but even if they did there were agents and soldiers positioned there anyways. The gunshots slowly rang to a stop. Clearly they had no intentions of trying to arrest any of these men. This was a kill mission, plain and simple. Sending any of them to a Mexican prison would do absolutely nothing to the Cartel, and they knew that.

Suddenly, my heart jumped about ten feet in the air. I could people yelling, and suddenly I heard, clear as day, someone yell ‘we got him!’.

The soldiers and agents all cheered loudly and began their version of celebrating, which consisted of a lot of high fiving and hugging. I stood up from my spot and turned around. My heart was just jumping for joy at this point. It had worked. Everything that needed to go right went right. I was free. I couldn’t believe it. It was hard to even process what I was feeling at that moment. Over a year of this terrible life was now over. Soon I could return to the States and live my life normally again. Start from the beginning. It was what I had dreamed of since the moment I became the Cartel leader.

Man: “It is time to go"

I was jolted from my self-celebration by a man’s voice. Looking up I could see one of the men in the house motioning for me to come out to the garage. This was one of the men from a rival cartel. They were the ones that were helping me get out of the country.

Last week I had gone and talked to El Diablo, the leader of our rival cartel. He was surprised at the meeting, but he agreed to it nonetheless. Basically, I explained everything to him. I told him about my plan. But I needed protection. When I came back into the public eye, there would be a lot of people in the cartel world that would want to kill me. Some for revenge, some for glory. If I had the protection of the now biggest cartel in the world, then nothing would happen to me, and I could live my life in peace. So I offered him all our of business contacts around the world for my protection. Basically he got to double his network, and all he had to do was ensure that I would not die. Which was very easy to do as a cartel leader. If you said someone was safe, no matter who they were, then they were safe. Nobody would risk trying to kill someone under cartel protection for fear of what would happen to them, their family, and everyone they had ever known. So El Diablo was quick to agree, and he instantly became the most powerful man in Mexico. And now he was helping me with one final thing. Getting out of Mexico.

I climbed into the back of the pickup truck and lay down. The floor of the truck bed had been lifted up, so I lay down between it and the bottom of the truck. The floor was put back down on top of me so that I was completely covered, and then I could feel the truck sputter to a start and start to drive away. There were some blankets to make it a little more comfortable, but it still was not great. The reason was that with so many cops around with this bust, there was a good chance that we would get stopped. I couldn’t risk having anyone see me. Sure enough, after about five minutes of driving, I could feel the truck slowly pull to a stop. I could hear voices speaking, but they were too muffled to understand. But after a few minutes, we pulled away. I breathed a sigh of relief. The last hiccup was done. Pretty soon I’d be on a private plane, flying down to Caye Chapel Island. The island that I bought for Anna all those years ago. It was there that I would wait for Anna to come back. And when she did, then we could plan for my return to the States. Still, I could not believe that it was finally happening. So many things could’ve gone wrong. But they didn’t. Anna and I trusted each other, and it paid off. Finally, we were free. Forever.


I heard a door open and close shut. I reached into my waistband just to be safe and took a tight grip on my gun. Sitting motionless, I could hear someone moving towards the living room that I was sitting in. It was Anna’s current house that we once lived in for a time. Down in Belize, on Caye Chapel Island, that she owned. I stood up from my seat and prepared for the worst. For the last two weeks I’d been alone here. Anna had stocked up on food, and occasionally I’d go out and get some from the local store. I tried to avoid going outside as much as I could, just because I didn’t want too many people to recognize me. It was hard being a dead man.

Anna: “Hello?"

Brandon: “Well it’s about time"

Anna: “Ugh, you have no idea"

I heard her drop her bags as she turned the corner and walked into the room. She looked a lot better than the last time I saw her. Cleaner and happier. She walked over to me and we embraced. It was good to have some real human contact again. It had been weeks.

Anna: “I gotta say, I had my doubts about this working"

Brandon: “Come on Anna, it’s us. It always works out"

Anna: “I know I know. But man, when I was holed up in that FBI building for like a month, it was tough. Did you know they have these tiny little apartment style rooms in the building? They are basically jail cells but a little nicer with a more comfortable bed. But you can’t go outside, you can’t communicate with anyone. It was pretty shitty man"

Brandon: “They believed you and everything?"

Anna: “Yeah, I was scared at first because they were really pressing me about not believing my story about escaping. But as I later found out, they just knew that the Cartel had men on the inside and they didn’t want to reveal anything. So once it was just the top men and myself, they were on board. Their men confirmed my story. So I guess the girl you got to be me did a pretty bang up job."

Brandon: “Well it was pretty easy. All she had to do was sit in a room and act like she was being tortured. She didn’t really have it too badly. Just had to seem bad when any of the inside men were around, which wasn’t even that frequent"

Anna: “You did say that this plan was foolproof. Even if it did involve me being cut off from the outside world for a month"

Brandon: “Well if it makes you feel better, I’ve just been hanging out inside the house here for the last two weeks. I’ve done more pushups and crunches than I can remember"

Anna: “Also a lot of drinking I see"

Anna pointed to the counter, where a bunch of empty bottles sat.

Brandon: “Like I said, I was pretty lonely"

Anna: “Well I guess that’s about to change. Do you think you’re ready to go back?"

Brandon: “Sure am. As much as I love it here on the island, it brings back a lot of memories. I really just want a fresh start. Going back to Los Angeles, clearing my name, and then starting fresh. I don’t have any money, I don’t have a job, and I don’t care. It’s exciting to think of doing some real honest work"

Anna: “Well I’ve got my plane. You can take that and skip all the customs stuff. Just head straight for the FBI office to get everything cleared up. I should probably stay here and make sure everything is up and running with the island"

Brandon: “Yeah I didn’t expect you to come with me. Don’t worry about it. Take care of yourself first, and then we’ll meet up again"

Anna: “I can’t even begin to describe how happy I am that we’re back"

Brandon: “Me too Anna. Me too."

Anna grabbed me again and hugged me tightly. It felt just like old times. This house, this island, holding Anna in my arms. When we did this three years ago, neither of us could have ever in a million years expected that we’d be here now. Our lives had been a constant roller coaster of events, up and down, but somehow always finding their way back to the station. But this time, we were getting off. And if all went well, we’d never have to get back on again.


I took a deep breath. Here went nothing, and everything, all at the same time. This was the final step in my journey to freedom. If I pulled this off, and there was no reason that I shouldn’t, then it would be smooth sailing. I’d be in the clear, so to speak. I pushed open the door to the Los Angeles FBI Headquarters and walked in. I was wearing a suit and a hat, but wasn’t carrying anything other than my passport and a phone and wallet in my pocket. So I was able to pass easily through the metal detectors as I walked towards the front desk.

Woman: “Can I help you sir?"

I didn’t say anything in response, I simply handed her my passport through the bulletproof glass window. She took it and looked at it as I retreated back to the middle of the open lobby area. The lady looked towards her computer as she entered my passport information in. Suddenly, the look on her face turned to one of shock, as she quickly sounded the alarm.

Almost immediately, ten men were surrounding me, pointing guns at my head as I slowly lifted my hands onto my head and got down on my knees. I felt someone come from behind and handcuff me. They yanked me to my feet and led me through the building, dragging me along until we reached a large room with a single table in the middle, and two chairs on either side. One of the chairs was bolted to the ground. The men forced me to sit in the bolted chair, and uncuffed me, before pulling my hands in front of me and immediately recuffing them, this time through a small bar in the table so that I couldn’t move them anywhere. Then, without ever saying a single word, they all exited the room, leaving me alone in silence.

Only for a few minutes did I have to sit alone though, as the door burst open and a man I recognized as Associate Deputy Director Bill Jones. He was the man who had been specifically in charge of trying to locate me. So when he was successful in killing ‘me’, that made him a very well known man.

Director Jones: “Who are you?"

Brandon: “I’m Brandon Macdonald"

Director Jones: “Brandon Macdonald is dead. My team took him down. I saw his body. You’re not him"

Brandon: “I was born on November 14th, 1982, in Ottawa Ontario Canada. I lived on 253 Percy Street. My blood type is A negative. What else do you want to know? Take my blood, take my bone marrow, check my dental records, do it all. I’m Brandon Macdonald. And then man you’ve been hunting for and killed two weeks ago was an imposter!"

The Director stared at me as if unsure of how to react. He just stared at me in disbelief, before leaving the room. I sat once again in silence for minutes, until he came back, this time with a few technicians and a kit. They held out my arm and quickly stuck a needle in it, extracting blood from my veins and then quickly exiting the room again. Before the door fully closed, I could hear Director Jones yelling at them to make sure that was the only priority and he wanted the tests done as soon as possible.

I continued to sit alone in the room, this time for a few hours. Eventually, as I was pretty much about to fall asleep, the door swung open. Director Jones walked in and sat down across from me, while another man followed him, carrying his own chair. He pulled out a notepad and pencil, and began to jot things down.

Brandon: “Look, I just wanted to come here and clear my name, ok?"

Director Jones: “You expect me to believe that the Brandon Macdonald who was working with the Cartel for a year and a half, was an imposter?"

Brandon: “Yes! I was held prisoner in a small room in some basement of a house for almost two years!"

Director Jones: “Why would anyone want to kidnap and then pretend to be you?"

Brandon: “I don’t fucking know. I would suggest you ask him, but I guess that isn’t possible anymore, is it?"

Director Jones: “Alright, if you really want to go this route. We have some time before your results come back and I can lock you up for good. Start from the beginning"

Brandon: “I will. As you guys all know, my ex-wife Anna Stone was married to Gianni Giordano in August 2013. But they immediately went on the run as they were being hunted by a rogue crime family as punishment for a deal they LEGALLY backed out on. The family killed the entire Giordano bloodline, except for Gianni. So they ran to Mexico, which I believe is where Gianni dragged Anna into involvement with the Cartel. I know Anna and I know she would never join willingly."

Director Jones: “We’re not here to talk about Miss Stone"

Brandon: “Right, right. In late November 2013, I got a Skype call from Anna. She looked desperate and scared and not in good shape. She said that the Cartel was holding her hostage and that they wanted me to come pay a ransom and get her back. Members of the Cartel took over from there and beat Anna as I watched. They told me where to bring the money. So I did."

Director Jones: “So a massive drug cartel tells you to bring money as a ransom, and you don’t think to call the police?"

Brandon: “Look I was in special forces for years. I’ve been a mixed martial arts and wrestling champion. I’m extremely trained in all types of combat, I felt that I could deal with it myself if it came down to it"

Director Jones: “And so you went to Mexico?"

Brandon: “I did. I went to a small house in Hermosillo where I was supposed to meet them. Only there was never a meeting planned. As soon as I stepped in the house, I was ambushed and knocked unconscious. When I woke up, I was chained by the feet, attached to two radiators in a small dirt floored room. And that was my home ever since, until four days ago"

Director Jones: “What happened four days ago?"

Brandon: “Well generally what would happen is that once a week, someone would enter the room and bring me food for the week. It was always a fair amount of food, there was not a time where I ever felt like I was really starving. So anyways, a little over a week ago, nobody showed up to give me food. I had nothing to eat for four days. Luckily I had saved some water. So for four days I was there, not sure where anyone was or if anything had happened. Then on the fifth day since I was supposed to get more food, the door opened and a Mexican construction worker opened the door. He managed to find keys to my shackles hanging outside the door. I explained what had happened and he and his construction crew gave me food while explaining what had happened. The house had belonged to one of the Cartel leaders, and they were tearing it down. That was when I first learned that someone had taken my identity for over a year and had used it to take over and run the Cartel. I spent a few days in Mexico researching everything that had happened and regaining my strength. Then one of the men got me across the border. I hitched a ride to Los Angeles, retrieved my Canadian passport, and came straight here"

Director Jones: “So if I call or visit this construction crew, they will verify this story exactly as you said, correct?"

Brandon: “Absolutely. Hermosillo Construct. Feel free."

In truth, the construction crew was real. But it was a front for the rival cartel, and filled up with their members. I was promised by El Diablo that if anyone ever came to fact-check that story, that it would be validated by his men. I simply had to trust him, but I had no reason not to. He knew that if he let me get captured here in America, that the remaining soldiers of my Cartel would get wind, and begin to operate again with me as the leader, in direct competition to him. So he was just fine with keeping me out of that position.

Director Jones left the room for a moment and then returned, presumably to tell someone to check in about that. When he returned he sat back down.

Director Jones: “So all this time in captivity, you had no idea that someone was pretending to be you, taking over your life, wrestling in your place, anything?"

Brandon: “No. I had nothing in that room. I had no idea why I was there, what they wanted from me, or why they were keeping me alive. I didn’t even know how long I was down there for until I was rescued"

Director Jones was about to say something, when there was a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it. A lab technician walked in with a bunch of papers. Clearly the tests were done. It was amazing how quickly they could do those when they really wanted to. The lab technician made an effort of getting Director Jones to leave with him, but he was having none of it.

Director Jones: “Just tell me so I can put this asshole away for good."

Lab Tech: “Well, we ran DNA tests, and it was a match. This man right here is in fact, Brandon Macdonald."

Director Jones: “So who did we kill in our raid?"

Lab Tech: “Well sir...that’s where it gets a bit embarrassing on our part."

Director Jones: “What the hell do you mean, embarrassing?!"

Lab Tech: “Well sir, it appears that Brandon Macdonald and our John Doe have the same blood type. Apparently that was as far as we ever went with it, because we did some deeper digging this time and found some discrepancies with what was originally reported"

Director Jones: “Such as?"

Lab Tech: “Well while their blood types are the same, their DNA is obviously very different. The blood taken from the body of our John Doe matches all of the recorded DNA found at the scene of the crimes Mr. Macdonald was accused of since late 2013. But that DNA does not match Mr. Macdonald’s current DNA, or any of his recorded in the past."

I watched as Director Jones’ face turned to a look of shock, and almost horror. He turned to the lab technician and grabbed his papers, reading and rifling through them furiously. He threw them in the air in anger as I tried not to smile too widely.

Brandon: “What did I tell you! I’m a victim here!"

The director turned to the mirror on one side of the wall and started yelling at it.

Director Jones: “Johnson! Please tell me you got the construction crew on the line?!"

Johnson's Voice: “Sir we did. His story checks out"

Director Jones: “God fucking dammit!"

Jones once again throws the remaining papers across the room in anger as both myself and the lab technician watch him, neither moving or saying a word. Suddenly, Jones looked over at the lab technician.

Director Jones: “Tell me you know who our John Doe is then"

Lab Tech: “We were able to match his DNA to one Arnold Francis. He’s been arrested before for impersonating an officer, multiple counts of fraud, basically, he’s a con man. He also has a lot of drug-related charges."

Director Jones: “So basically this was the perfect guy to pull this off?"

Lab Tech: “Well he certainly has the experience necessary"

Johnson's Voice: “Uhhh sir, about a year and a half ago, one Wanda Francis reported her husband Arnold missing. Local police were unable to find him. A few months later she actually reported that she thought her husband was masquerading as Brandon Macdonald, but she was dismissed as someone with a history of conning people, and the local police never did anything about it. It got back to us but we figured the same thing, so we just filed it away."

Wow that part was unexpected. I had no idea who this guy was or anything about him. I just knew that the Doctor made him look like me. I had no say in which guy he got or anything. So all this stuff, this extra everything that further helped my innocence, was a complete coincidence. My heart was doing backflips right now.

Director Jones: “Are you fucking kidding me?! We had hard evidence that this guy was NOT Brandon Macdonald, and we did absolutely fuck all with it because he was so in your face about being Brandon Macdonald? Shit! Do you know how fucking embarrassing this is for us? God dammit!"

The director angrily slammed his fists onto the table and sat down, slumping his head into his hands. The lab technician slowly exited the room. Eventually, the director stood up and walked over to the mirror, staring into it before turning back towards me and looking me in the eyes.

Director Jones: “What can we do to ensure this doesn’t get out?"

Brandon: “Look, all I want is my life back. I want my name to be cleared, I want to be able to walk the streets again, I want a normal life."

Director Jones: “Alright. Ok. Here’s what we’ll say. You were undercover the whole time. You have extensive special forces history and were a perfect candidate for it. You were an inside man until you were arrested in August 2013. That was supposed to be your exit. But then the Cartel broke you out without your knowledge. We couldn’t say anything publicly for fear that it would expose you as an undercover agent. So we kept it a secret, working to try and get you back. When we found you, we had to fake your death in order to make sure that we could take out the entire Cartel so that you would not face repercussions. Now that you did, we were able to bring you back. Your record will be wiped clean. You’ll be free to do as you please in America, and hopefully live somewhat normally now that people think you were undercover."

Brandon: “That sounds good to me."

Director Jones: “You’ll need to stay here for a little bit while we make sure everything is ready to go and safe for you. Is that ok?"

Brandon: “Can I go stay at Anna’s island home? I’d really like to see her again, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever know I was there. Then you guys can call me when you’re ready to go with everything and I can return back to Los Angeles."

Director Jones: “We’d have to send some agents to live near you to make sure everything is safe"

Brandon: “Sure. Last time I knew, the houses next to hers are for rent so they could just stay there I’m sure."

Director Jones: “We’ll have to bring Ms. Stone in to break the news. I’m sure you’re dying to see her"

Brandon: “You have no idea"

Director Jones walked over to me and uncuffed me. He extended his hand and I took it, shaking it. He began to apologize and lead me out of the room. I followed along with him, not really listening to anything he said. More in shock that everything had worked so perfectly. The last hurdle had been cleared. I was a free man. I could start my life over. What would I do now? Who knows? But that was what was so great. Nothing was planned. And that was exactly how I wanted it.


Anna: “Come on, keep your damn eyes closed!"

Brandon: “Dammit Anna, I’m going to fall or hit something if we don’t get there soon!"

I was being led down the street with my eyes closed, and Anna trying to both lead me and cover my eyes with her hands. She had promised a surprise for me. It was my first day back in Los Angeles as a hero, not a villain. The FBI had given a statement on what had happened, and Obama had even given me a medal. Sure there were some people who probably still doubted me. But the majority were back on my side. Even when I got to LA, there was not a lot of attention on me. A small amount of people were cheering me when I got off of the airplane at LAX, but I wasn’t a war hero so it wasn’t anything crazy. Mostly, I was just able to walk the streets normally. That was all I wanted.

Anna: “Ok we’re here. Open up!"

I opened my eyes and squinted as they adjusted to the bright light. After a few moments I could see what I was looking at. It was a giant gym. I looked up at the sign above it, that read ‘Rogue Gym’. I looked at Anna.

Brandon: “Are you serious?"

Anna smiled as she walked over to the door and pulled out a key. She unlocked the door and motioned for me to follow her inside.

Anna: “You needed a job. I needed a good investment. I figured this was the best way to do that"

Brandon: “Wow. This is nice"

I looked around at the gym. All brand new equipment everywhere. There was a couple of side rooms, but the main room consisted of machines and free weights in one area, an MMA octagon cage in another, and a wrestling ring on the other side. Just so much space, so much equipment, so much everything. It was incredible.

Anna: “I figured this would be a lot easier than the last time you opened a gym. Now that you have nothing else to focus on except this"

I had had a gym once before, but I didn’t work there, just owned it. And I rarely paid any attention to it, I was so busy with other things. But this...this I would have time for. This would be my new passion. God Anna knew me even more than I knew myself. This was perfect.

Brandon: “You’re the best, you know that right?"

Anna: “I know. Come on, why don’t you go test out some of the stuff? We’re opening next week after all"

I laughed as Anna and I walked towards the locker rooms to change. This was perfect. I had always dreamed of being a successful fight trainer after I had finished wrestling and fighting. After what my coaches and trainers did for me, taking me from nothing and making me into an MMA Champion, it was the least I could do to pay them back. And Anna was right. Now I finally had the time to do it. Things were turning up just great. But there was one thing I still needed to do. One person that I still needed to see.


It was just so nice to be able to walk freely down the streets of Los Angeles. I couldn’t even do that when I was in Mexico. Everything was secret driving, hiding in hideouts, there was no publicly walking. But here I was, walking down a suburb block with a baseball cap and sunglasses on my face, not caring if anyone in the world saw me.

I looked at my phone to make sure I had the address right. I figured that with my life getting settled back down, I’d start trying to get back into regular things. When I was away, there was a few people I missed. Shark, Hawk, even Chuck to an extent. But right now I was going to see Tiffani Michaels. She was one girl I really missed just hanging out with when I was gone. Which was strange because we had never dated or anything, just hooked up once. But when we did hang out we always had a great time. She was a good person to meet up with and try to settle back down with. Not to mention she lived right near my new gym. And I just wanted my life to be normal again, so I figured that seeing Tiffani again was going to help me do it. Last I knew of her, she was married. So this would be interesting to say the least. Although I hadn’t told her I was coming, and the last thing she knew about me was probably that I died, So this was going to be quite a shock.

I walked up to the door and took a deep breath. I put a big smile on my face as I knocked on the door. I heard someone yell as I waited. The look on my face was that of pure idiotic happiness as Tiffani opened the door. She looked up at me, slowly processing who I was. When it finally registered with her, she fainted.

I laughed as I caught her before she fell too hard to the ground. Holding her in my arms, I walked Tiffani into her house and lay her down on a couch. I grabbed a glass of water from her kitchen and brought it back to her. I sat beside her as she slowly opened her eyes.

Brandon: “Hey sleepyhead”

Tiffani: “Am I dreaming right now?”

Brandon: “Nope. This is real life. I’ll prove it”

I leaned over and pinched Tiffani on the arm. She squealed and pulled her arm away from me as I laughed.

Tiffani: “Ow! That was not funny!”

Tiffani stuck her bottom lip out into a pout before she reached out to place her hand on my cheek.

Tiffani: “I went to your funeral… I don’t understand how this is possible.”

Brandon: “Yeah...it’s...really hard to explain. But it’s real. It’s happening. I’m alive”

Tiffani: “Oh my god… I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I dreamed about this happening.”

Brandon: “Yeah...sorry I never called or anything. It was a little...difficult. I was basically off the grid for over a year. I don’t really know about anything that’s happened since I left and ‘died’”

Tiffani sat up on the couch as she kept looking towards me. As if she still couldn’t believe that I actually right there with her right now.

Tiffani: “I wouldn’t even know where to begin…”

Brandon: “Well...last I remember, you were married. Is that still a thing?”

Tiffani looked down as she sighed.

Tiffani: “No...that’s not a thing anymore...I ended up realizing that I wasn’t ready for marriage.”

Brandon: “Ah, that’s too bad, he seemed like a pretty decent guy from the tiny bit I knew about him. At the very least you seemed happy with him”

Tiffani: “I was happy with him and I don’t think he was the problem at all. He just was at the point in his life where he was happy to stay inside and do all these grown up things, but I still wanted to go out and have fun. I wanted to party and be 21.”

Brandon: “I know what you mean. Some people just want to settle down and make a family, it doesn’t even really matter if you’re 35 or 21. I’m 32 and I have no interest in staying inside and doing grown up things.”

I had been with a few girls in the past who were like that. I was pretty old compared to Tiffani per se, but I was in great shape, and I still felt young. I wanted to go out and party and have fun and do crazy things. I was not ready to live a grown up life yet.

Tiffani: “I guess we were just too different to make it work. He thought I was someone else when we first met and I wanted to be the wife he expected, but it just wasn’t me in the end.”

Brandon: “Well that sucks that it didn’t work out, but I’m glad you are happy now. And I’m sure you have a lot of great memories”

Tiffani: “Yeah, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything else really, it did teach me a lot about myself.”

Brandon: “Just another chapter in the never-ending book we call life. So how’s single life treating you then?”

Tiffani: “I guess I can’t really complain. I do get to go out and do whatever I like.”

Tiffani smiled slightly as she shrugged her shoulders.

Tiffani: “It gets a little bit lonely sometimes though.”

Brandon: “Well hey, at least you haven’t been stuck in hiding in Mexico for the last year and a bit, right?”

Tiffani: “When you put it like that, it does put things in perspective.”

Brandon: “Exactly. So it could be worse. Now I’m back here with no money, a job that hasn’t started yet, and really no life. Just trying to start over.”

Tiffani: “You could stay here if you want…”

Brandon: “Well currently I have a pretty sweet bedroom set up in the office of the gym that I’m opening up that Anna bought for me to run, but I miiiiight take you up on that offer”

Tiffani: “I’m thinking you didn’t just come and see me for no reason after all.”

Brandon: “Well to be totally honest, I did miss you at least a little bit”

Tiffani: “Only a little bit?”

Brandon: “Maybe a bit more than that”

Tiffani: “Well… I guess I missed you too..”

Brandon: “You guess?”

Tiffani: “More than guess… I know I missed you.”

Brandon: “Well to be fair you did think I was dead”

Tiffani: “Yeah, that was not very nice by the way!”

Brandon: “Trust me, if there was any other way it could’ve happened, then I would’ve. But this was the only way. I’m sorry for hurting you like that though.”

Tiffani: “I’m sure there’s some way you can make it up to me.”

Brandon: “My oh my Tiffani, whatever do you mean?”

Tiffani laughed a little bit as she leaned in closer towards me.

Tiffani: “Use your imagination…”

I leaned in and kissed Tiffani gently on the lips. I could feel her hands reaching up behind me, going to pull my head in closer to hers.. I pulled away before it went on for too long and grinned at her, almost laughing at the look of disappointment on her face

Brandon: “Maybe you should give me a tour of your house. Starting with the bedroom”

Tiffani smiled as she stood up from the couch and grabbed a hold of my hand.

Tiffani: “That sounds like a great idea…”

I stood up as Tiffani basically yanked me off of the couch and dragged me away towards her bedroom. Hey, I guess this was one way to get things back to normal.