Life on Royalties

Sandy Richardson was a nobody five years ago. She was twenty five, worked a nine to five, bought off the rack. Then she met Ron Dooling. He charismatic, attractive, and eloquent--all the makings of the perfect cult leader. Sandy quit her job, packed a bag, and sold off the rest of her earthly possessions and joined his ranch compound in Nebraska. There, she and a hundred and twenty other other underwent what can only be described as brainwashing. Over the course of three months, the members went from a band of peace lovers in search of life's puzzle to a brigade of gun wielding anarchists yearning to tear down the status quo.

An assault led by federal agencies on the compound lasted for a week and a half. In the end, in one of the biggest negotiating failures in history, all but five members of the cult were killed. On live national television, news crews reported on-scene over the sound of emergency vehicles. Millions of American families watched as Sandy Richardson, Ron Dooling, and three other members were brought out by agents clad in body armor and bearing assault rifles.

When Ron Dooling broke from the prisoner procession, tackled a police officer, and grabbed his gun, ready to make his last stand, millions of eyes watched a female cult member, Sandy Richardson, reach for a hidden ankle holster with lightning quick reflexes, and shoot him dead. Images of Sandy's steely gaze were replicated in every news medium for the next week. Everyone wanted to know who she was and why she shot Dooling and why she wasn't frisked for weapons. Rumors circulated. Television talking heads had plenty to discuss. All the while, federal authorities refused to comment on the ongoing investigation.

A month later, a charming but weary-eyed Sandy Richardson gave her first network interview. She had been a deep undercover agent for the FBI, she said. The takedown of Dooling's group hit obvious problems that led in many lives lost and when they finally thought they had taken hold of Dooling, he broke free. She did what she had to do. Over the past month, she had been debriefed and they tied up loose ends, rounded up known associates.

Sandy became America's darling, the hero of the moment. She got a book deal in the high six figures and a movie option in the works. She quit the Bureau because she wanted to still work in deep cover, but her face was plastered everywhere, which made it near impossible to use her. It didn't matter. She was already set for life.