rufusluciusivan wrote:I would have one nitpick though. I think it's a little unrealistic that FBI agents Tamara and Alice would obey Chen that easily. I know that she has hostages, but she's not monitoring them either so they could easily call reinforcements while doing their 'mission' for her (if they have no choice, after stealing someone's cellphone). I guess these two are part of the B-team...
To clarify, Tamara isn't an FBI agent - she's an independent contractor, a freelance investigator who was hired by one of the FBI teams to help them catch Karima. Alice is a member of the other FBI team. Essentially, Alice and Tamara are rivals, forced to work together by Dr. Chen, whom neither one was assigned to capture. Tamara has no means of contacting reinforcements, because she's working outside law enforcement parameters.
As for Alice, you may notice from her dialogue that she's a bit more willing to go along with Dr. Chen's plans than Tamara is (at least for now). You'll find out why later...
The delivery truck rolled up to the warehouse, parking in a concealed spot at the back.
Tamara eyed the small building uneasily. "How about we jump her? No way that woman can fight off the two of us."
"I told you not to worry," Alice replied. "I arranged a little plan last night. Trust me, Dr. Chen will get what's coming to her. Meantime, we have to play along."
Dr. Chen grinned as she saw Alice and Tamara approach the warehouse, carrying a large crate between them. "Hurry up, fools. Get inside, before someone sees you."
Once they were safely inside, Dr. Chen bolted the door, then turned to face the crate. Muffled pounding and gagged cries came from within.
"Did you have any trouble?" she asked the two agents.
"None," Alice said. "Bridget answered the door right away. We took her down easily. Professionals, remember?"
"Not professional enough to beat me, apparently," Dr. Chen sneered. "But enough of that. Let's get to the good part."
She snatched a crowbar from the wall and slowly pried off the lid of the crate. "We meet again, my dear... Bridget?"
She blinked. The bound-and-gagged, struggling woman in the crate looked up at her helplessly.
Dr. Chen looked up. "Who the hell is this?"
"It's... Bridget Baxter," Tamara said, puzzled. "Just like you asked."
"Bridget Baxter is a tall black woman," Dr. Chen said. "You've brought me a white blonde girl who's barely over five feet."
The two women blinked. "But..." Tamara said, "she told us she was Bridget."
"Idiots!" Dr. Chen yelled. She pulled out a taser from her coat and jammed it into Tamara's thigh. Tamara screamed as 30,000 volts shot through her body, and she slumped to the floor.
Alice held up a hand. "Wait... Don't..."
Dr. Chen jammed the taser into Alice's neck. With a brief cry, Alice slumped over, falling alongside the unconscious Tara.
"I'm surrounded by idiots," Dr. Chen muttered, rubbing her eyes in exasperation.
Then she knelt down beside the bound and gagged blonde girl, who shrank back in horror.
Dr. Chen peeled the tape off the woman's lips. "Who the hell are you, and why did those idiots on the ground tell me you're Bridget?"
The girl coughed. "Please... my... my name is Moira. I'm a reporter, I work with Bridget. Please, I have no idea what's going on. I just want to go home..."
"You... work with Bridget?" Dr. Chen pressed.
"We... we both write for the same newspaper. She's always stealing the spotlight." Moira coughed again. "We're not friends, I swear. I hate that bitch."
Dr. Chen smiled. "Do you, now."
Moira nodded. "I can bring her to you if you want. Let me go and I'll bring her to you. Swear to god."
Dr. Chen considered. This woman was clearly terrified of her. And she seemed quite sincere.
"Just so we're clear," Dr. Chen said to the shaking Moira. "You will bring me Bridget Baxter. You have three hours to do so. Otherwise..." She drew a long, polished fingernail across her throat. "Understand?"
Moira nodded. "Yes. Yes, please. I don't want to have to worry about Bridget again."
"Trust me, you won't," Dr. Chen said, cutting Moira's ropes. "Now remember, if you tell anyone about this, or if you try to contact the authorities, I will find you and I will kill you. Painfully."
"I won't, I won't," Moira said again. "Thank you... Trust me, you won't be sorry."
"Get moving before I change my mind," Dr. Chen snapped.
Once Moira had left, Dr. Chen dragged Alice and Tamara to the nearby closet where she had stashed her four other prisoners. She stripped the duo again, then tied and gagged them once more, and tossed them into the closet.
"Useless whores," she muttered.
Still, all was not lost. Assuming this blonde girl could bring her the Baxter woman, she could already began setting up the next phase of her plan.
Smiling, she reached for the phone.
**************
The Bombshelles were now down to their panties and bras. Malika was in the process of tying them up and gagging them. Nearby, Karima, Nadyne, and Sabira were zipping up the yellow outfits and stepping into the tall black boots.
Karima adjusted the goggles over her eyes. "Malika, dispose of these amateurs. Drive them out deep in the forest and tie them to some trees. Hurry up now."
Malika nodded. She slung the secured Anna over her shoulder, carried her to the van, and tossed her inside. She did likewise with the other three Bombshelles, one by one, before hopping into the driver's seat and gunning the engine.
As she drive off, Karima turned to Nadyne and Sabira. "Okay, girls, you know what to do next. We need to start rerouting the Bombshelles' clients to our business. Sabira, can you do that?"
"On it," Sabira said, taking a seat by Emma's laptop.
"Nadyne," Karima continued, "I want you to..." She was interrupted by a ringing phone.
Karima located the wall phone and picked it up. "Bombshelles, Incorporated," she said in a disguised voice. "How may I assist you?"
"Yes, hello," said the voice on the other end. "I'm going to need something blown up tonight."
Karima's eyes widened. That voice - it was Dr. Chen's!
"I heard about your squad through the grapevine," Dr. Chen continued. "I hired another team for a job a few months back, but they were a bunch of incompetents. Completely bungled the job."
Karima felt her hands curl into fists, but she kept her temper.
"I don't know if we should discuss the details over the phone," Dr. Chen continued. "Would it be all right if I came by your headquarters? Privacy is of utmost importance."
Karima grinned maliciously. "Yes... yes, of course, ma'am. Our doors are open."
"Thirty minutes, then," Dr. Chen said, and she hung up.
Karima turned to Nadyne and Sabira. "Change of plans, girls," she said. "An old friend is coming to visit... and she won't be leaving alive."
******************
Bridget was a longtime fan of world history, and she was pleased to put her knowledge to good use.
"Right down this hall, girls, you'll see a delightful display of 14th century artworks. It's the bees' knees, eh what?"
The girls and their teacher followed. Felicia and Bobbi brought up the rear.
Felicia nudged Bobbi and gestured to a door marked "Museum Personnel Only."
"It's probably locked," Bobbi whispered.
Felicia held up a key card. "Bridget passed me this while the class was busy looking at 18th-century fashions. Probably got it from the tour guide she replaced."
The two girls slipped off. No one was watching as they swiped the key card and entered through the door.
The hallway was long and dimly lit, lined with various doors. A stairway at the far end led down to the basement. Voices and machines could be heard emanating from below.
"That place is probably packed with scientists," Bobbi said. "We'll need some new clothes."
At that moment, the door behind them buzzed. The girls turned to see two young women in lab coats, talking and laughing as they entered.
The women stopped laughing when they saw Felicia and Bobbi. The olive-skinned scientist raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you girls be with your group?"
"Actually," Felicia said with a smile, "we'd rather be with yours."
She swung open a nearby door marked "Supplies." Bobbi grabbed the startled women by their arms and shoved them into the closet. The two girls then followed their victims inside, shutting the door.
Knocking out the scientists was easy; stripping them was no big deal either. But the girls had to work fast. Fortunately, Bobbi had the foresight to bring some plastic zip-ties, so binding the women took no time at all. Some duct tape gags completed the picture.
Dressed in the scientists' clothes and lab coats, Felicia and Bobbi made their way down to the museum basement. It was indeed crowded, but a quick search bore the fruit they were looking for. A few rocky slabs lay on an examination table, covered in illegible markings.
Felicia snapped a few pictures when no one was watching. "I'll work on translating these when we get out," she whispered.
About ten minutes later, the tour ended. Bridget bid the schoolgirls adieu and headed for the backlot. Felicia and Bobbi were waiting there, as planned.
"How'd it go, girls?" Bridget asked.
Felicia put on an important air. "Most excellent, guv'nor. Wouldn't you agree?"
Bobbi nodded. "Cheerio and all that."
Bridget laughed. "Okay, okay. I get the hint... Anyway, I'm busy the rest of the day - gonna interview a scientist for my phosphate mining story. But call me if anything new develops."
"We will," Felicia promised. "Good luck with your story."
**************
Rosa sat at her desk, absent-mindedly shuffling her papers. It was less an attempt to look busy than to mask her anxiety.
There was a knock at the door. Rosa quickly snapped out of her thoughts. "Come in!"
Amaya and Anika entered. The twins did not look happy.
"What the hell happened last night?" Rosa asked angrily.
"She never showed up!" an exasperated Anika replied. "We danced our asses off for over an hour, and for nothing."
"It was good cardio," Amaya offered, prompting a glare from her sister.
"I don't understand," Rosa said. "Betsy's message said she'd be at Club Central all night."
The twins grew silent. Then Anika spoke. "Club... Central? Not Club Classic?"
"Central," Rosa responded. "That was..."
She paused, then buried her face in her hands. "Don't tell me. You went to the wrong club."
Anika glared at Amaya again. "You! You told me it was Club Classic!"
"I didn't write the intel report!" Amaya said defensively. "That's what it said in the email. Maybe Amber's team is trying to sabotage us."
Anika turned back to Rosa. "Let me try it again. I'll meet her alone this time, without my idiot sister."
"Hey!" Amaya protested.
"There is no next time," Rosa replied. "Betsy doesn't do FBI meets very often. After the screw-up you two pulled, she probably won't ever risk meeting with us again."
"But... she has info about Karima!" Anika said. "We've been searching for that bitch forever. You mean to say our one lead just went down the drain?"
Rosa sighed. "Pretty much. And to make things worse, Tamara isn't responding to my calls. No idea where she is."
"Tamara?" Amaya asked quizzically.
"The independent contractor. The one I hired because I knew you two were going to fuck things up."
Anika glared at her team leader, but stayed quiet.
Amaya finally broke the silence. "How, um... How's Amber's team getting along?"
As if on cue, the desk phone rang. Rosa glanced at the caller ID, then put it on speaker.
"Lauren? What's going on?"
"Hi, Rosie!" Lauren sang. Rosa winced - she hated being called "Rosie," so Lauren made sure to do so as often as possible.
"Just thought I'd let you know of an itty-bitty little breakthrough we made. Amber and I just caught one of Karima's henchgirls!"
Rosa's eyes widened. "No way."
"Yes! Staking out her old hideout every day for the past few weeks really paid off. The database identified her as Zuhal Azimi. Anyway, we're taking her down to the interrogation room shortly. It's only a matter of time before our team catches Karima! Better luck next time, girlfriend." She laughed and hung up.
Rosa pounded her fist on the table, causing Amaya and Anika to jump slightly.
"I've been slaving over this case for months," she said. "I will not let Amber, Alice, and Lauren walk away with the glory and promotions. We have to catch Karima before they do."
"But how?" Amaya asked. "We've dried up every lead. Your friend Tamara is AWOL. And Amber's team just caught one of Karima's closest allies!"
"We need to talk to this Zuhal woman before Amber does," Rosa said. "There must be some way..."
She thought in silence for a few moments; then a crafty smile spread across her lips.
"It's not exactly legal," she said, "but I've got a plan."
Last edited by tirepanted3 on Fri Aug 02, 2019 2:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
The pizza van ground to a halt somewhere in middle of the forest, about a mile from the main road. Malika unloaded her four bound-and-gagged packages, one by one, and carried them to the nearby trees.
Soon, she had secured the four sleeping women to four separate oaks, ensuring that the bonds looped under and around the roots.
"That should hold them," she smiled.
As she turned to go, however, her eyes fell on Izzy. The tall brunette sat quietly, her head lolled to one side, unconsciously breathing through her petite nose.
The woman was quite attractive, and she'd been kind to Malika earlier. Despite herself, Malika couldn't help feeling a little sorry for her. She also couldn't deny a fascination with the way the woman's breasts pushed against her pink bra with each soft breath.
Kneeling down, Malika loosened Izzy's bonds ever-so-slightly. Karima would never know.
Then she got in the van and headed back to the main road.
*************
Dr. Chen pulled the painting van up to the small, innocent-looking barn. According to her contacts, this was the hideaway for the infamous Bombshelles.
She'd been told these women were professionals, and reasonable in price. Still, money was of little concern for Dr. Chen - she'd pay any price for revenge.
She'd taken the precaution of strapping a bomb-proof vest on beneath her coat, in case anything went wrong. But she didn't expect anything would.
She stepped out of the vehicle and approached the barn door. She knocked. "Hello?"
No answer. But the door was slightly ajar.
Dr. Chen stepped into the dark but well-furbished barn. She squinted. Why weren't any lights on? The Bombshelles should be expecting her.
All of the sudden, she heard a clicking noise. A gun was pressed to her left temple.
Before she could react, another clicking noise. The cold steel of a pistol against her right temple.
And a cruel laugh from deeper within the barn.
Karima stepped out from the shadows. "Well, well, well," she said with a grin. "Isn't this a lovely turn of events."
Dr. Chen turned white as a sheet. "Wha... how...?"
"Good to see you too, Julia," Karima said. "A bit sooner than anticipated, but... why let an opportunity go to waste? Especially when you insisted on delivering yourself right to our doorstep."
Dr. Chen could feel her heart pounding. She hadn't planned for this.
"You... you girls are the... Bombshelles?"
"As of thirty minutes ago, yes," Karima laughed. "As you may infer, I'm not a big fan of competition. Or, for that matter, betrayal."
"Karima," Dr. Chen said slowly. "Please. We can talk about this."
"We're through talking," Karima snapped. "I've had enough of your lies, your tricks, your overall bitchiness. You're going to regret betraying me for the rest of your life. Which," she glanced at her watch, "will last about another thirty seconds."
She took a quarter from the table. "I promised my girls I'd let one of them pull the trigger on you. Nadyne, I believe you called heads?"
Nadyne nodded. Karima flipped the coin.
"Wait, I..." Dr. Chen began.
"Shut up," Karima snapped as she caught the coin. "Tails."
"Yes!" Sabira cheered.
"Damn," Nadyne said. "Best two out of three?"
"Nope," Sabira replied. "But since your gun's already drawn, I'll let you shoot her in the spine first. Make her feel a little pain before I blow her brains out."
"Sounds good to me," Nadyne said, lowering her gun to Dr. Chen's midriff.
"No!" Dr. Chen pushed Nadyne, whose gun went off. BLAM! The bullet bounced off the vest beneath Dr. Chen's coat, knocking her to the ground.
"Oh, you'll pay for that." Sabira now stood over the dazed Dr. Chen.
She pointed her gun at Chen's unprotected head. "Good riddance."
BLAM!
The sound was not a gunshot. Rather, it was of a small bomb - Danni's bomb, which had been idling on the nearby work table. The bullet that ricocheted off Dr. Chen's vest had struck the bomb, activating it.
The bomb was not lethal, but it packed a punch. The shock-waves knocked Karima, Nadyne, and Sabira to the ground.
Dr. Chen saw her opportunity - and knew it was her one and only chance. She grabbed Sabira's gun off the ground, then kicked Nadyne's off in the direction of the door. She pointed Sabira's weapon at the three dazed Arabs.
"Well, well, well," Dr. Chen smiled. "Isn't this a lovely turn of events."
Furiously, but helplessly, the Arab girls raised their hands in surrender.
"That's more like it," Dr. Chen said. "Now, off with those radiation suits. I need you girls strip-searched. Hurry up, don't make me shoot you."
Karima wanted to lunge at Dr. Chen and throttle her, but she wasn't crazy enough to risk a bullet between the eyes.
"Do as she says, girls," she stated, through gritted teeth.
Submissively, the three women began unzipping their Bombshelle suits, while the gun-toting Dr. Chen smugly looked on.
*****************
Moira bicycled her way back to Bridget's apartment as quickly as she could.
That Asian woman - whoever she was - scared the hell out of her. She didn't know what was going on, but she felt fully pressured to comply.
Besides, she reasoned, her task would prove beneficial - removing Bridget from the picture would allow her greater opportunities to win favor with Mrs. Drake. More stories, more money... more glory for her. Despite her recent kidnapping scare, Moira couldn't help but smile at the thought.
She biked around the back of the apartment, noting that the lights in Bridget's windows remained off.
"Wonder if that girl is still tied up in her closet," she murmured.
She had taken a risk earlier in the day by breaking into the apartment. If people saw a stranger enter and exit the building too many times in one day, they might get suspicious.
As Moira weighed her options, the metal door at the rear of the apartment building creaked open. Out stepped a woman in custodial uniform - green button-down jumpsuit, muddy black boots, and green cap. The woman nodded politely at Moira as she carried a heavy garbage bag to the dumpster outside.
Moira noticed that the woman was just about her size. She then recalled that two women who had kidnapped her had gained access to Bridget's apartment through means of disguise.
Could it work? The idea of mugging another woman for her clothes sounded ridiculous. Still, Moira was in a desperate situation, with little room for failure.
As the female janitor headed back for the doorway, Moira hurried toward her. "Excuse me, miss!"
The janitor turned, smiling. "Yes? How can I help - ooooff!"
She doubled over as Moira punched her in the stomach.
"Very sorry," Moira said as she judo-chopped the base of the woman's neck. The janitor sank to the floor.
She felt bad as she dragged the building employee behind the dumpster and stripped her... but she'd feel worse if she was forced to face her new "boss" again empty-handed.
Moira cut some clotheslines off the nearby brick wall and used them to tightly bind her victim. She gagged her with a kerchief from her jacket. Then she changed into the woman's uniform, zipping the jumpsuit up to her neck. The boots were a bit tight, but they would do. She pulled the cap low over her blonde hair, and mussed up her bangs to give them a more naturally disheveled look.
Moira left the poor janitor in the dumpster, leaving just enough space in the closed lid for the woman to breathe. Then she calmly slipped into the building.
***************
Bridget knocked softly on the office door. She adjusted the strap of her handbag over her shoulder.
The door opened, revealing a tall, olive-skinned woman with jet-black hair and spectacles. She wore a white lab coat over a blue blouse and dark pencil skirt.
"Dr. Leslie Avon?" Bridget asked.
The woman nodded. "Yes. May I help you?"
Bridget extended her hand. "Bridget Baxter, reporter for the Globe. Here for the interview."
The woman looked confused. "Interview? I... I don't understand."
"You know, about phosphate mining. We spoke about it over email."
The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, dear, I don't know what you're talking about. My research field doesn't include phosphates." She blinked. "Oh, it must have been my secretary!"
Bridget blinked. "Pardon?"
"Letty, she's always setting up my appointments, sometimes without notifying me. She must have gotten you mixed up with someone else. I was supposed to do an interview on RNA research today..."
Bridget sighed. "Well, thank you for your time."
"I'm sorry, honey. Wish I could help."
"It's all right, no harm done," Bridget responded, turning away. "You have a good day now."
"You too, dear." The woman closed the office door.
Then, alone in the office, a smile spread across her face.
She pulled out her phone and dialed a long series of numbers.
"Is it done?" an older woman's voice asked.
"Yes," Betty replied. "Ms. Baxter won't be interfering with your mining work any longer."
"Excellent," the voice replied. "Your payment has been deposited in the proper bank account. On behalf of Dennison Drilling LLC, thank you."
"My pleasure," Betty said. She hung up.
Before exiting the office, she opened the door to the small supply closet and peeked inside. Lying on the floor, bound with rope and gagged with a small cloth towel, was a blonde woman in aqua-colored underwear. She was unconscious, breathing softly through her petite nose.
"My apologies, Leslie," Betty said with a grin. "I did not mean to interrupt your research. I merely needed to adopt your identity for a few minutes."
She looked at her watch. "Best get to my next job. The chloroform should wear off within a few hours. Good day."
She shut the closet door, plunging the real Dr. Avon back into darkness.
****************
The interrogation rooms were located in the basement of the FBI complex, hidden below the mundane activities that occurred in the many offices on the six above-ground levels. Though hundreds of people worked in the building, only a few dozen had clearance to the lower level.
Being field agents, Amber and Lauren were among those chosen few. They carried the bound-and-gagged Zuhal into the building through a concealed entrance which led directly to the basement, then herded her into Room 014. A tall female guard dressed all in black - padded uniform, boots, and sunglasses - was positioned outside the locked door, to discourage any disturbances.
Lauren untied and ungagged Zuhal, sat her down, and handcuffed her to the table. "Ah... looks like our new friend is coming to her senses."
Zuhal blinked, breathing in the fettered air. Where the hell was she?
She pulled angrily at the cuffs strapped to the metal table bar, but they wouldn't budge.
"Don't waste your energy," Amber snapped. "You're a prisoner of the U.S. federal government now. And you're going to answer some questions."
Zuhal glared at her, but kept her mouth closed.
Amber drew a picture of Karima from her jacket and set it on the table. "I assume you know this woman?" she asked pointedly.
Zuhal remained silent.
"We've been looking for your boss for a while now," Amber continued. "Care to supply us with some information?"
Zuhal twirled a strand of hair around the finger of her uncuffed hand.
Lauren stepped in. "This isn't a joke, you terrorist. One of our own is missing. Amber sent her to talk with one of Karima's employers last night, and we haven't heard from her since."
Zuhal blinked. "Which employer?"
Amber smiled. "Wow, you speak. I sent Alice to talk with Julia Chen."
Zuhal raised her eyebrows, a gesture Amber noticed. "Want to hear more? Tell us some info about Karima."
Zuhal laughed. "You FBI girls are imbeciles," she said. "I was recently betrayed by Karima - and as soon as I escape from you, I plan to hunt her down and make her pay. But that doesn't mean I'm going to tattle on her to a couple of federal agents."
The two agents exchanged a glance. Then Amber spoke. "You're not going to escape. And you will tell us everything."
Zuhal laughed again. "Don't count on it, sweetheart."
Outside, the blonde guard stood at attention, surveying the empty hall. Most of the other interrogation rooms were unoccupied.
At that moment, a "Psst!" caught her attention. She turned to see a young Hispanic woman, beckoning her from around the corner.
"Excuse me," Amaya said, flashing her FBI badge. "We need some help in Room 027. The prisoner is causing a ruckus."
The guard adjusted her sunglasses and nodded. She followed Amaya down the hall.
Amaya ushered her inside Room 027. The guard looked around, perplexed. "There's no prisoner... hhmmmmppppphhh!!"
She clutched at the arm which now pressed a chloroform pad to her face.
The guard struggled, but Anika refused to let go. Though the guard appeared strong, her lungs quickly filled with the sweet-saturated air. Her struggles eased, and she slid to the floor.
"Still not sure I love this plan," Amaya said. "What if this woman tries to identify me later?"
"No one will believe her," Anika responded. "Mugged by a fellow FBI agent? She'll sound crazy. Now help me get this uniform off her."
The sisters worked quickly, stripping the guard of her boots, gloves, and armor. Before long, the woman was down to her bright white underwear.
"I'll tie her up," Anika said, reaching for the duct tape. "You're closer in size, so you can put on her uniform."
Amaya gave her a funny look. "Closer in...? We're both the same size!"
Anika sighed. "Okay, but her uniform's probably all sweaty. I'm not putting it on."
Amaya sighed, and began to change her clothes. "Fine. But the next sweaty outfit we steal is yours."
Soon, the guard was fully taped up and gagged, and Amaya was dressed in her uniform.
"What if they recognize me?" she asked. "We work on different floors, but Lauren's seen me around the office once or twice. She might see through the disguise."
"Well, you better make sure she doesn't," Anika said. "If this plan fails, it's your ass on the line."
Amaya frowned, but donned the sunglasses. "Don't talk down to me. I got this."
She exited the room, while Anika dragged the duct-taped guard to a nearby closet.
Amaya approached Room 014 and knocked. Then, remembering that it locked from the outside, she took the key card from her stolen belt and swiped it.
Amber, Lauren, and a stubborn Zuhal looked up as she entered.
"Afternoon, ladies," Amaya said in a deep, disguised voice. "They just sent me from upstairs. I'm afraid that prisoner of yours needs a security check before we can authorize her for interrogation."
"Your mistake," Amber replied. "We passed her through the metal detector just twenty minutes ago. She's clean."
"Er, that may not be the case," Amaya replied. "The metal detectors have been malfunctioning a bit today. Maintenance is working on it, but we need to submit this woman to a manual check."
Lauren eyed her strangely. Amaya swallowed, praying she wouldn't be recognized.
Finally, Lauren turned to Amber. "It's no big deal. Better safe than sorry."
Amber paused, then nodded. "Fine. Just bring her back as soon as you can."
"Will do," Amaya replied. She approached Zuhal and uncuffed her, then took her by the arm. "Let's go, Miss. And don't try anything funny." Her left hand rested on her holster.
Zuhal rolled her eyes, but allowed herself to be led out of the room by Amaya.
Once the two were outside, Amaya let the door shut behind her. Then she jammed a hairpin into the locking mechanism.
"That should hold them," she said with a grin.
Zuhal's eyes widened. "Who... who are you?"
"Don't get your hopes up, sweetie," Amaya said, dragging Zuhal down the hall. "I'm also FBI. My team is trying to track down your boss as well."
They reached the door to Room 019. "There are two different FBI teams looking for Karima?" Zuhal asked incredulously.
"Yep. Department heads assigned it that way to encourage us to work harder. Winning team gets promotions. So we decided to, er, bend the rules."
Zuhal laughed as they entered the room. "Your American government is a joke."
"Is it?" came a voice from inside the room.
Zuhal turned to see a woman seated at the table, while another woman - nearly identical in appearance to the guard who had just "rescued" her - stood alongside it.
"Hello, ma'am," the seated woman said. "My name is Rosa. And you're going to tell us everything we want to know about Karima."
Zuhal was about to roll her eyes again. Then, suddenly, a cunning plan formed in her mind - a way to "bend the rules."
"Oh, I know exactly where Karima is," she lied. "And I'm more than happy to tell you. But I've already divulged that information to those other women down the hall."
Rosa's face fell. "Alice? You told her?"
"Don't worry," Amaya said, "I locked them in. They're not going anywhere for a while."
"Even so," Zuhal continued, "they know where she is. Probably drawing up plans on how to catch her now."
Rosa pounded the table. "I will not let them catch her," she said. "You need to tell us where she is, now."
"I can do better than that," Zuhal grinned. "I can show you."
Rosa stood up. "What are you saying?"
"I can take you to her hideout," Zuhal said. "It's deep in the forest, so you may need a guide. Someone who knows it well."
Amira frowned. "Rosa, how do we know we can trust her?"
"We don't have much choice," Rosa said. "I'm not losing this promotion. All right, lady, we'll take you along. But we'll need some way to smuggle you out of the building."
"What do you mean?" Amaya asked.
"This woman was brought in by Amber and Lauren. Gonna look pretty suspicious if she's carried out by a rival team."
She thought for a minute, and looked at Amaya, still dressed in her stolen security gear.
"Say," Rosa asked with a smile. "Any chance you could get us some more of those uniforms?"
Two in a row again. I have to say that I really like how you make all these numerous stories cross each other, and these numerous plans clashing with and foiling each other, while keeping the story clear enough. And now with Boira and Betty, there are two more antagonists ready to join the melee...
Chen calling the 'Bombshelles'... Oh the irony, the delicious irony! And yet, her lucky star hasn't failed her... yet. I really like these twists. (Didn't expect Chen to come out on top of the confrontation for instance. Good chekhov's gun with Danni's bomb by the way.)
Have to agree with Zuhal though. These FBI agents aren't really top-notch, and their leadership's idea to encourage in-fighting is just begging for trouble... My theory is that the leaders are all secretly part of the USB and are watching every mugging happening in the building through the security cameras.^^
It seems that Bridget is about to put her hands on a scoop even bigger than the inscriptions... Although I'd like to ask, will her and her friends' story cross with Chen's, Karima's and the FBI's?
One last thing perhaps. I noticed that in the last few parts, the descriptions of the strippings, bindings and aftermath of the victims were again kept rather short to not beak the flow of the story. (I'm generalizing of course.) Personally, I don't mind it too much. (I'll admit that I enjoy the story itself just as much as the uniform steals.) However, if I can make a suggestion, it would be perhaps nice to have one more detailed description from time to time. (I'm thinking of the scene at the very beginning of All Tied Up and No Place to Go with that guard called Maxine for instance.) Anyway, looking forward to see how everything will turn out.
Thanks again for the detailed comment! It's not easy keeping all these different storylines going at once, but it's very satisfying to me when they connect, so I'm glad you appreciate them as well.
It's been really fun to write for Dr. Chen - she's both really smart and quite lucky, which makes for a dangerous combination. Also fun to write for the FBI agents who, as you point out, aren't too great at their jobs. Most "authoritative" characters in my stories (police, federal agents, etc.) tend to bungle their work a lot, and the teams of Rosa vs. Amber seem to exemplify that pretty well.
Yes, Bridget, Bobbi, and Felicia will eventually have their stories intersect with the others as well. The driving force of the story is Dr. Chen's revenge plot, but that doesn't mean there can't be some side-plots to help flesh out the story and characters.
I try to include occasional detailed stripping scenes, but there's so much going on in this story (it's not even halfway finished) that I tend to favor quantity over quality. If more people provided feedback, I'd probably be more motivated to include more detailed stripping/binding scenes. Unfortunately, most folks here don't provide too many responses (which is why I find your comments so valuable ).
Dr. Chen surveyed the scene before her with a grin. Karima, Nadyne, and Sabira sat on the floor of the barn, stripped to their underwear - Karima wore pink, while Sabira and Nadyne still had prison-issued white. They had all been tightly bound and gagged, and were now glaring at her furiously.
"Come, girls, don't give me that look... You should know by now that you can't defeat me. And every time you try, you just prove how incompetent you are."
So busy gloating was Dr. Chen that she did not hear the sounds of the pizza van rolling up outside.
Malika noticed the painters' van parked outside the barn, and raised a suspicious eyebrow. Who could this be?
Stepping quietly out of the van, she moved to the door, which was only slightly ajar. She peeked inside.
There were her coworkers, tied up on the floor. And triumphantly standing over them was... Dr. Chen?
Malika stifled a gasp. She had to save her friends. But how?
Thinking quickly, Malika circled around to the back of the barn. She prayed that the door was not locked.
Luck was with her. The door swung open with hardly a creak. Malika opened it slowly and stepped inside, easing her way past the various storage implements surrounding it.
Dr. Chen had her back turned to Malika, and was busy gloating over her three captives. She did not hear the fourth girl tiptoeing quietly towards her.
At that moment, Nadyne noticed her friend slowly sneaking up on Dr. Chen. Her eyes flickered, and her brow raised ever so slightly.
Most people would never have noticed her facial expression. But Dr. Chen, trained as she was in the art of deception, did. "What are...?"
She whirled suddenly, pointing the gun at Malika. "Aha! I suspected there were more of you. Hands up, my sweet."
Malika had no choice but to obey. Karima, Nadyne, and Sabira groaned into their gags, their last hope of rescue gone.
"Sorry, girls," Dr. Chen smiled. "You just can't win. Off with your clothes, darling. Then I'll tie you up next to your friends."
Malika gave Dr. Chen a milk-souring look, but began unbuttoning her delivery outfit. "You'll be sorry for this."
"I'm sorry you girls are so pathetic," Dr. Chen laughed. "Hurry up with the stripping."
Soon, Malika was down to her underwear. Dr. Chen bound her tightly and gagged her. "There we go."
Shortly after, Dr. Chen loaded her four new prisoners into the back of the painters' van. Then she started the engine.
"Don't worry, ladies," she said. "Before tonight, all your troubles will be over... permanently."
**************
"Uuuggghhhh... mmmmpppphhhh....."
"Shh... C'mon, just pass out already," Amaya said, her hand refusing to budge from the woman's mouth.
Finally, the security guard could no longer withstand the chokehold she was in. She lost consciousness, sliding back into Amaya's arms.
Amaya lowered the woman to the floor, and motioned to her sister. "All right, Anika, start stripping this one. I'll call for two more."
"You got it," Anika replied as she began unzipping the woman's uniform, which was identical to Amaya's.
Amaya lifted the security radio to her lips, speaking into a local channel. "This is Alpha-nine-two-five," she said, using the call sign of the guard whose uniform she now wore. "Calling guards in the immediate vicinity to Room 019. Extra security requested. Two guards to Room 019."
After a few moments, a woman's voice crackled over her radio. "Copy that. This is Alpha-three-two-six. Be downstairs momentarily. I'll notify Alpha-four-one-eight as well."
Zuhal sat at the interrogation table, watching the twins in amusement.
"You do realize," she asked Rosa, "that you're mugging your own coworkers? I don't think your boss would approve."
"Our boss will never know," Rosa replied. "And I don't normally resort to these tactics, but this is kind of a desperate situation."
Zuhal laughed. "You must really need that promotion."
Rosa sighed. "Damn right I do. We can't afford to botch another operation."
Another black-clad security guard entered the room. "Got your call. What's the problemmmmppphhhhh!"
"No problems," Amaya said, applying another chokehold. "You're just going off-duty for a while."
Zuhal watched as Amaya lowered the second unconscious guard to the ground.
"Mind stripping her?" Amaya asked Rosa.
"Sure thing," Rosa replied. She knelt down by the guard and began removing her uniform.
Zuhal watched the three women work. Even though Rosa was the boss, she still seemed to have some level of respect for her employees. Unlike Karima, who seemed to think the whole planet revolved around her.
Zuhal touched her cheek, which still stung from where Karima had decked her. Her old boss would be quite sorry indeed.
The third guard entered the room. "Never fear, help is here. Hey, what the - mmmmppppphhhh!"
"About time you showed up," Amaya said, applying pressure to the back of the woman's neck.
Once Guard #3 was unconscious, Amaya shut the door, then began stripping her of her uniform. Zuhal watched with continued amusement.
Finally, Amaya tossed her the uniform, though not the weapons belt. "This one's about your size. Get dressed."
Zuhal pulled on the uniform and boots, while Rosa and Anika did likewise with the two other security uniforms. Amaya procured more duct tape and began binding and gagging the three guards.
"This better work," Anika said. "I'd prefer not to spend the next decade in jail."
"Don't be so negative," Rosa replied. "We just walk out the door with Zuhal, all dressed in these uniforms. No one tries to stop us or ask questions. We find Karima, arrest her, change out of these uniforms, and bring her back here. We're heroes, Alice and her crew are failures, and no one is the wiser."
"Sounds simple when you say it like that," Anika muttered.
Amaya nudged her sister. "C'mon, let's just give it a try."
Soon after, the four disguised women exited the building through the first floor entrance, with no one being the wiser. They stole a van from the parking lot and headed off. Rosa drove in the direction of the forests.
"Remember," she told Zuhal, "no tricks. And don't even think about trying to escape. The three of us have guns, and you don't. It would be pointless to try anything."
"Of course," Zuhal replied with a grin. "You have my word."
******************
Izzy's eyes fluttered open. What... Where was she? The last thing she remembered was opening a pizza box...
As the world came back into focus, she noticed her three friends tied to some nearby trees. They were all struggling against their bonds, which were clearly too tight to give way. Izzy didn't know if it was worth joining the effort, but she was not a fan of being bound and gagged. She pulled hard at the ropes which bound her wrists - and, surprisingly, felt some slack.
Twisting and maneuvering her wrists, Izzy found that she could slide them out of her ropes. Her hands free, she yanked the gag off her mouth, then untied her ankles.
"Don't worry, girls," she said. "I'll have you free in a jiff."
True to her word, Emma, Anna, and Danni were soon untied, and stood rubbing their wrists in the middle of the forest.
"Where the hell are we?" Anna asked.
Danni looked around. "These look like deciduous trees... which are common in Osceola. I spent a lot of nature hikes there, and this..."
"Calm down, college girl, I didn't ask for a history lecture," Anna said with a mock yawn. "I mean, how the hell did we end up here?"
Emma rubbed the sore spot in her neck. "It was a trap. That pizza girl tricked us, for some reason."
Anna whirled at Izzy. "I knew it! You never should have opened the door, you dumb..."
Izzy glared at her, fists clenched. "Finish that sentence. I dare you."
"Enough, girls," Emma said with a sigh. "How we got here doesn't much matter. What's important is that we need to get back. Figure out what the hell's going on."
Her ears perked. "I hear vehicles. Sounds like the road is that way. We need to steal some clothes and a car, pronto."
The girls walked quickly, trying to avoid any sharp rocks or twigs on their bare feet. Finally, they reached the roadside.
"Should be a car coming any moment now," Emma murmured.
Sure enough, the women heard tires approaching. And... a siren?
A dark green Corvette drove into view. At the wheel was a pretty blonde girl of about twenty years in a lovely pink dress. Beside her was a gorgeous black girl in a green sequined outfit. In the back was an Asian girl, dressed in a blue gown.
And behind the Corvette was a police car, sirens blaring.
The Corvette pulled over to the side of the road, and the police vehicle stopped behind it.
"Told you we shoulda slowed down," the black girl grumbled.
"Oh, hush up," her blonde friend snapped.
The doors to the police car opened, and a uniformed policewomen got out. Dressed in a dark blue jacket, pants, and hat, as well as black boots, she appeared professional and intimidating.
The redheaded officer approached the car. "Do you ladies know how fast you were going?"
The blonde shrugged. "Sorry, officer. We were on our way to a party, and..."
"I don't care. License and registration."
The blonde complied. "You know, officer, I really love that uniform..."
"Flattery won't help you," the policewoman said. "I'm writing you up."
"Actually," a voice said from behind, "I love that uniform too."
The policewoman started to turn, but a neck chop from Emma sent her down for the count.
Emma knelt down and began stripping off the policewoman's uniform.
The blonde leaned over her car door. "Gosh, thanks, lady," she said. "My parents would kill me if I got another ticket."
"Don't thank me yet," Emma said. "We need your dresses as well."
The three college girls turned to see three underwear-clad women staring down at them, not unlike a committee of vultures hungrily surveying some newfound prey.
"What are you waiting for?" Emma asked, holding up the policewoman's gun. "Start stripping."
Quickly, the three 20-year-old girls reached behind their backs and unzipped their dresses, then shakily squirmed out of them.
Before long, the three girls and the policewoman, all stripped down to their underwear, had been handily secured to some trees deep in the forest. They were bound and gagged with handcuffs and duct tape, all found in the trunk of the police vehicle.
Emma straightened the peaked police cap over her hair, and dusted down the uniform. Nearby, her three associates were shimmying into their dresses - Izzy in pink, Danni in blue, Anna in green.
Anna did a twirl. "This outfit is gorgeous! Probably the best I've ever stolen." She giggled.
"You look lovely," Emma said. "Now come, girls. We've got more important things to do than sit around and play fashion show. Into the car."
Danni saluted. "Yes, officer."
The Corvette had been stashed behind some large shrubs nearby, where it sat well-camouflaged. The Bombshelles piled into the police vehicle, Emma at the wheel.
"Let's find this pizza girl, shall we?" She started the car and drove off, back in the direction of the barn.
***************
Prema was tired - exhausted, in fact. Her wrists and ankles ached where the tape bound them, and she needed to use the bathroom.
Still, she forced the chair to which she was secured to rock back and forth. Maybe, given enough time, she could free herself.
A sound alerted her - the sound of a door opening. Prema didn't know whether to be relieved or fearful.
Moira stepped into the apartment, pleased that it was still unlocked - that saved her from hassling with another hairpin. She shut the door behind her. As she'd suspected, the apartment was empty. Well, apart from its unwilling occupant.
Moira headed to the closet and swung opened the door. Prema squinted as things once again came into focus. It was the blonde woman from earlier - though she was now inexplicably dressed as a janitor.
"Told you I'd come back," Moira beamed. "Do you know where Bridget is?"
Prema groaned into her gag, angrily.
"Oh! Sorry, let me help you with that." Moira reached over and peeled the tape from Prema's lips.
Prema opened her mouth, spitting a soggy washcloth onto the floor. "Oh, my... Thank you. Thank you."
"Who are you?" Moira pressed.
"My name is Prema. I'm a geologist, working for Dennison Drilling. Or I was... until some crazy woman jumped me and knocked me out. I woke up in this... this closet."
Moira pulled a penknife from her pocket. "You poor dear. Hold still, I'll have you free in a moment."
She began cutting away at the bonds at Prema's wrists.
"Bless you, dear," Prema said. "As soon as I'm free, we need to call the police. That woman is dangerous."
Moira smiled. "Don't worry. She'll be... taken care of."
She finished cutting the bonds on Prema's left wrist. "Do you know where she is? The woman who tied you up?"
Prema shook her head. "She and her two friends...they said something about a museum? I couldn't hear properly through the closet door."
"We'll find her," Moira said. "She can't be far."
Indeed, Moira was quite prescient. At this moment, Bridget was walking up to her apartment door, keys in hand.
As Bridget prepared to enter her home, something caught her eye. Looking down, her keen reporter's eyes noticed some the muddy outline of bootprints on her front carpet.
Her eyes narrowed. Someone had broken in. And, judging by the fact that there were no bootprints leading away from the door, that someone was probably still there.
Thinking quickly, she knocked on the door. "Special delivery," she called in a deep voice.
From the closet both Moira and Prema jerked their heads up.
"It's... it might be a trap," Prema said. "What if it's the owner of the apartment?"
Moira laughed. "Like she wouldn't have a key. Here," she put the knife in Prema's free hand. "Cut yourself loose. I'll go see who it is."
She approached the closed front door. "May I help you?"
"I have a delivery for Bridget Baxter," came the voice again.
Moira chuckled to herself. This time, it had to be real - she couldn't be fooled by this trick twice in one day.
She swung open the door. "I'm Bridget Ba-ooof!"
She doubled up as a knee slammed into her stomach, and fell to the floor.
Looking up, she gasped. "You're... you're Bridget."
Bridget shut the door behind her. "And you're breaking and entering." She squinted. "You look familiar."
Moira got to her feet. "But I'm betting you don't even know my name. I'm just not good enough for the high and mighty Bridget."
Bridget held up her fists in a fighting pose. "I should warn you, I'm a black belt. Judo, jujitsu, the works. Try to attack me, and I'll have you begging for the police."
Moira crossed her arms defiantly. "Go ahead, call the police. We'll see what they have to say about the woman you've got tied up in your closet."
Bridget's eyebrows raised. Then she smiled. "You won't be telling anyone about what's in my apartment. I'll have you hogtied before you can raise your voice."
"I knew it," Moira said with a bigger smile. "I knew you were a fraud. Everyone talks about how Bridget Baxter is the greatest journalist as the Globe. But it turns out you're a criminal. And now everyone will know."
She made a rush at the front door, but Bridget grabbed her arm and flipped her over. Moira landed on her back wind knocked out of her.
"Now," Bridget said softly, "you and I are going to have a little chat. Preferably with you tied up and - uugggghhhh!"
She pitched forward suddenly, unconscious.
Moira looked up. Prema stood over the fallen Bridget, a heavy vase in one hand.
"That's for kidnapping me, you stupid bitch," Prema spat.
She helped Moira to her feet. Moira smiled appreciatively.
"I'll call the police," Prema said. "You tie her up."
Moira thought for a moment. She'd been bluffing earlier - she couldn't have the police discover them. She remembered the threat she'd been given: [img]"If%20you%20try%20to%20contact%20the%20authorities,%20I%20will%20find%20you%20and%20I%20will%20kill%20you."[/img]
Moira put a hand on Prema's shoulder. "Wait! We... we can't call the police. We can't..."
"Why not?" Prema asked, a bit suspiciously. "She's a criminal. She's got to face justice." She reached for the phone.
Moira spotted a roll of duct tape on the nearby countertop. She quickly grabbed it.
"I'm really sorry about this," she said, lunging towards a surprised Prema.
Six minutes later, Prema was once again a prisoner of duct-tape, securely bound at the wrists and ankles. Moira smoothed a fresh piece of tape over her mouth.
"I wish I didn't have to do this," she said truthfully. "But circumstances are pretty bad right now. I promise, though, that creepy Asian lady will take care of Bridget."
Prema struggled furiously against her bonds, moaning into her gag. Moira stroked her hair sympathetically, then returned to Bridget.
The intrepid reporter was just beginning to regain consciousness. Moira bonked her one more time with the vase - and enjoyed doing so more than she cared to admit. The vase broke on impact this time, and Moira kicked the broken shards beneath the couch.
Then she stripped the sleeping Bridget, concerned that the woman probably had concealed weapons to help her out of tight positions. Indeed, Bridget had a small pair of wire-cutters hidden in her blouse, and a miniature penknife in the heel of her shoe.
Once down to her bra and panties, however, she'd been rendered effectively helpless. Moira jingled Bridget's car keys - they would suffice.
Moira taped up and gagged Bridget while Moira looked on, a mixture of confusion and anger on her face. Once Bridget was secure, Moira rolled her up in an old blanket. If anyone noticed her on the way downstairs, they would just assume she was a janitor taking some linens to the wash.
"Sorry, Prema," Moira said as she headed for the door, blanketed Bridget over her shoulder. "Trust me, this is the best outcome for all of us."
She shut the door behind her, leaving Prema to struggle helplessly on the floor.
After a few minutes, Prema began to grow thoroughly exhausted. Was there no escape?
Then her eye fell on the broken shards of vase beneath the couch. Maybe... just maybe...
Prema slowly maneuvered herself over to the couch, taking care not to hurt herself on any of the broken porcelain. Her hands, though bound behind her back, managed to grasp a particularly large, jagged piece, which she began using to cut into the tape.
It would take time, of course. But, Prema told herself, she could do it. She would do it.
