"Ms. Waters....I hope you know that you're in way over your head."
"Oh, I think not, Mr. Beach", the athletically built woman, bound to the chair, replied with a smile.
"No? You're starting to sound like someone a bit wet behind the ears. Your situation is quite dire, I'll have you know." The heavily muscled man said while cracking his knuckles. His demeanor belied his very cultured, middle-eastern, accent.
She eyed his massive arms as they flexed. "To me, the situation is quite fluid. I'm confident that I'll take the right fork in the river."
"My dear Ms. Waters", he smiled, "there is no choice for you. You're heading into the rapids and about to go over the falls."
Her curly blonde hair began to droop and she started to sweat....profusely.
"See.....look at you, my dear. Your so nervous that you're sweating buckets. You're in the deep end of the pool."
Again she smiled.
"Mr Beach?" the woman said as more sweat poured off her body.
"Have you ever been surfing?"
"Of course I have."
It was then, she shimmered and exploded into a huge wave leaving her bonds behind and engulfing the larger man.
The New Mexico Police Department never did solve the drowning death of the man in a shack in the middle of the desert.