1. I won't give too much away about the rest of the story, but this is the last time you'll be seeing the policewoman and three college girls. They're just there to provide the Bombshelles with some new clothes.
2. I didn't intend the "Quantico" parallel, but that's an interesting observation. Though I don't think the FBI agents on that show stole quite as many clothes as the ones in this story.
3. Not sure what you're talking about. I didn't try to post any images. Am I missing something?
Now this is just personal opinion, but for this cheesy (rhyming) one-liner, 'Guard n°3' deserved to be gagged.
It looks like Bridget's story is going to interwind with Chen's and Karima's, but not in the way she will find pleasant apparently. I'm now waiting for the next twist. Chen is not the type of woman to just let Moira go and the FBI agents still have their words to say.
(And by the way, congratulations (and thanks!) for updating so quickly.)
Guard #3 has had a tough career - she wanted to be an actress, or maybe a model, but none of her jobs went anywhere, and she ended up stuck at a dead-end job in FBI security. She's often depressed with her life choices, which is why she needs to use humor to occasionally brighten her day. Of course, the other guards don't find her that funny, which is why she has no friends. All in all, I do feel a little sorry for her when she gets mugged for her clothes.
(This is not directly related to the story - I just sometimes wonder about the backstories of random USB victims. )
Dr. Chen maneuvered the painting van smoothly across the gravel road, humming softly to the music on the radio.
"How are you girls doing back there?" she called.
Muffled, angry sounds came from the rear of the van. Karima, Sabira, Nadyne, and Malika struggled mightily against the bonds that secured them.
Dr. Chen couldn't help but be amused at the thought that when she'd discovered this van only the night before, it contained four bound-and-gagged women inside. Now, it contained four different bound-and-gagged women - and once again, they all now belonged to her.
While they were alive, that is - which would not be for very long. She chuckled at the thought.
As Dr. Chen rounded a corner walled by a grove of trees, she saw another large van barreling down the road toward her. With a gasp, she swerved to the right. The painting van skidded onto the grass. Dr. Chen hit the brakes just before the vehicle could ram into a tree.
Swearing mightily, Dr. Chen pounded on the steering wheel. That idiot driver could have killed her!
Karima and her crew were dazed, but otherwise unharmed. Dr.Chen checked her sideview mirror and noticed that the black van had rolled to a stop.
"Jackass!" she yelled.
Inside the black van, things were just as stressful.
"Who the hell taught you to drive?" Anika asked indignantly.
"Hey," Amaya shot back. "I got my license before you did."
Rosa groaned. "Girls, please. Back up the car. We have to make sure the driver is okay."
Amaya shifted in reverse. The car rolled back and up to the painting van.
Rosa rolled down the rear window. "Hi," she said sweetly. "Are you all right? Sorry, our driver is kind of an idiot." She ignored the dirty look Amaya shot in her direction.
Dr. Chen looked up. "I'm fine. Go away."
Sitting next to Rosa, looking over her shoulder, Zuhal immediately recognized Dr. Chen's face. Her eyes widened behind her dark glasses.
Rosa also seemed to recognize... something. "Hey... you look familiar."
Dr. Chen felt her heart jump. "I... guess I have one of those faces. Now if you'll excuse me..."
Rosa snapped her fingers. "You're Julia Chen," she said. "I sent Tamara to pose as one of your guards and talk to you last night. But... you're supposed to be in prison."
Dr. Chen felt her grip tighten on the steering wheel. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I was looking at pictures of you just yesterday," Rosa said. "And I have a photographic memory."
She held up a gun, and pointed it at Dr. Chen's window. "Why are you out of prison? And where the hell is Tamara?"
Dr. Chen raised her hands. "Wait... I..."
Zuhal dealt a karate blow to Rosa's neck. With an "uhhnnn," Rosa pitched forward, unconscious. Zuhal grabbed both her guns and pointed them at the two startled women in the front seat.
"Raise those hands," she ordered. "Any sudden moves from either of you and I'll shoot you both."
The twins obeyed. Zuhal turned to a stunned Dr. Chen.
"Been a while, Julia," she smiled. "Last time we spoke, I believe you were trying to kill me."
She knocked Amaya on the head with her gun-butt, sending the woman to sleep. Then she pointed the gun at Dr. Chen, keeping the other weapon trained on Anika.
"I should kill you now," Zuhal mused. "In fact, I think I will..."
"Wait!" Dr. Chen cried. "I... I have your friends."
Zuhal peered over her sunglasses. "...What?"
"Your friends," Dr. Chen repeated. "Karima and the others. They're in the back of the van. If you let me live, I'll give them to you."
Zuhal thought for a moment.
Then she knocked Anika over the head, putting her out as well.
"Pathetic, all three of them," she muttered. Then, to Dr. Chen, "Step out of the van and show me. Slowly now."
Dr. Chen and Zuhal both exited their vehicles, and Zuhal followed Chen to the back of the painting van, her gun pointed at the doctor's back. The doors were slowly opened.
"Here," Dr. Chen said. "They're all yours."
Zuhal observed the sight before her eyes - her four teammates, all helplessly gagged and bound in their underwear. They looked at her - Karima looked at her - eyes pleading for help.
Zuhal turned to Dr. Chen. "Just what were you planning to do with them?"
"I was... planning to kill them," Dr. Chen admitted. "But I swear I won't anymre. You can have them."
Zuhal considered for a moment. Then she smiled.
"Karima," she addressed her boss. "You were a terrible employer. Always have been. And you girls," turning to Sabira, Nadyne, and Malika, "you let her walk all over me back at the prison. That's an injustice I can't allow."
She turned back to Dr. Chen. "We may have had our differences in the past," she smiled, "but I think we've found a common goal."
"You... you'll help me?" Dr. Chen asked, surprised.
"Sure will. I need a new boss, and I want to destroy my old one. Two birds, one stone."
The four bound and gagged women moaned angrily, yet helplessly, as they watched Zuhal and Dr. Chen shake hands.
"Your three new friends," Dr. Chen inquired. "Who are they?"
"Some FBI idiots," Zuhal replied. "Best take them with us so they don't raise the alarm when they wake up."
Stripping Rosa, Anika, and Amaya was easy, as was binding and gagging them. Before long, the three new prisoners had joined Karima and her team in the back of the van. Zuhal blew a kiss to the seven prisoners, and shut the door.
She climbed into the front of the van, alongside Dr. Chen. "I take it you've got a plan?"
"Always," Dr. Chen smiled as she started the engine. "And you'll be invaluable in helping me with it."
As they drove back to the warehouse, Dr. Chen hid a sinister smile.
*****************
Felicia tapped the desk impatiently as she waited for Bridget to pick up the phone.
"No answer," she told Bobbi.
"Weird," Bobbi murmured. "Do you think she's busy?"
"She's always busy," Felicia replied. "But she always answers the phone for me - especially after I promised a hot scoop about these cave markings."
"Where do you thing she is?"
"I don't know." Felicia hung up. "Let's head to her apartment."
******************
Lauren stepped back from the wall panel she had spent the last thirty minutes tinkering over. "Got it! The door should open now."
Amber ran her fingers through her hair. "Finally. Can't believe how long we've been trapped in here. Let's get out of here and find that Zuhal woman."
The two women opened the now-unlocked door and exited the room. "Let's head upstairs. Sort out this mess before..."
"Hold it, ladies!" Amber's thought was cut off. The two agents turned to see a pair of female guards descending the stairs toward them.
"You are Agents Conway and Russell, correct?" the taller guard asked.
Amber nodded. "We've been trying to interrogate a prisoner we've captured. Arab girl, works for that al-Bariqi woman..."
"I'm afraid that your prisoner has disappeared," the second guard said. "Security cameras caught her, disguised as a guard, exiting the premises some thirty minutes ago. Facial recognition took some time, but eventually identified her as a member of the terrorist gang,"
"What a surprise," Amber said dryly. "We've got to find her. Come on, Lauren."
"Not so fast, agents." The taller guard held up a hand. "This woman was brought onto FBI property without the full submission of proper paperwork. We need you two to debrief headquarters on your findings."
"Paperwork?" Lauren spat. "A dangerous woman is on the loose, and you want us to fill out goddamned paperwork?"
"Government policy, ma'am," the guard replied. "You'll need to follow us. I'm afraid neither of you will be allowed off the premises until you've submitted a full debriefing."
Amber and Lauren exchanged a quick glance. Amber nodded curtly.
Then she turned back to the guards. "Very well. Lead the way."
The guards turned their backs on the two agents and headed back towards the stairwell.
Amber and Lauren struck as one, dealing swift judo chops to the back of each guard's neck. The uniformed women crumpled to the floor.
"We're gonna get fired for this," Lauren muttered.
"Worry about that later," Amber responded. "Come on, help me strip these bitches."
Soon, the two unconscious guards were tossed inside a nearby supply closet. They wore nothing more than their bras, and had been tightly bound with duct tape from the closet. Their mouths had been covered with tape, after being filled with their own panties.
"Looks like you're the only ones getting 'debriefed' today, ladies!" Lauren laughed as she zipped up one of the black uniforms.
Amber, dressing in the other uniform, gave a sigh. "Was panty-gagging them really necessary?"
"Bet your ass it was. How else could I have made that 'debriefing' joke?"
Amber shut the closet door. "Whatever. Let's hustle. We've got a terrorist to catch."
Lauren nodded. "But... how? We don't even know which way she went!"
Amber frowned. "There's got to be a lead somewhere... Maybe Alice has found something."
"But we don't even know where Alice is."
"Oh, yes we do." Amber held up her phone. "Anticipating trouble, she put a tracer in her left earring before heading out last night. I can track her down."
Lauren smiled. "What are we waiting for?"
**************
Bridget's car bumped and rattled along the gravel road. Moira, at the steering wheel, was buckled in. Bridget, lying bound, gagged, and blanketed in the backseat, was not. She felt her underwear-clad body lift from the seat, before slamming down with a muffled "Ooof!"
Moira chuckled slightly to herself. Kidnapping her rival had been surprisingly liberating... and fun. And now, she mused, she would have an honest shot at being the top journalist at the Globe.
Another bump in the road. This time, Moira heard a few things rattle inside the glove compartment. Opening it, she felt her eyes light up - it was Bridget's notepad.
A glance at the dashboard clock told her she still had about forty-five minutes to meet Dr. Chen's deadline. She pulled over to the side of the road and began flipping through Bridget's notes.
"Quite a busy little bee, aren't you, Baxter? Let's see... Phosphate mining, hmm? Dr. Leslie Avon... Hey, I know that name! I interviewed her once, about a year ago. Something about an ecological bill." Her brow furrowed. "It was a good interview, with a brilliant scientist. She totally transcended the 'dumb blonde' stereotype. Yet it ended up on Page 43."
Though she had other things on her mind at the moment, Bridget felt her ears perk. Did Moira just say that Dr. Avon was... blonde? The woman she'd spoken to earlier had jet-black hair, and it certainly wasn't a dye job.
"Says here you were planning to interview her today," Moira noted. "But I notice you haven't jotted down any notes from her. Guess you haven't got around to speaking with her yet?"
Bridget kept quiet.
"Looks like I'll have to cancel that appointment. I think I still have her number..." Moira scrolled through the contacts on her cell phone. "Yes! Let's see if she remembers me."
She pulled out Bridget's phone from where it had been stashed in Moira's bag and punched in the numbers.
*****************
Betty drove smoothly down the seaside road, breathing in the fresh ocean air.
"Living the good life," she smiled.
It wasn't always this way - Betty had spent years in college training to become an actress. The lights of Hollywood had always beckoned to her. But despite her efforts, her career had never taken off. But Betty had found another way to put her talents to good use - by working on the black market as a professional fixer. It was a job that often required her to adopt new identities, but it was one that a versatile actress like her could handle with ease.
The Dennison Drilling job had been fun, but wouldn't cover more than a week's rent. So it was that, still dressed in Dr. Avon's clothes and lab coat, she was now heading for the docks for her next job.
A ringing came from inside her coat pocket - much to her surprise. Reaching in, she pulled out Dr. Avon's phone.
"Whoops." She'd been in such a hurry to impersonate the good doctor and exit the premises that she'd forgotten to check her victim's pockets.
The number did not show up on the caller ID, and Betty couldn't help feeling curious. She put the phone on speaker and set it on the dash as she continued to drive.
"Yes?" she said in an approximation of Dr. Avon's voice.
"Hello," came the voice from the other end. "Is this Leslie Avon?"
"That's me," Betty lied. "How can I help?"
Moira continued to speak, in an approximation of Bridget's voice. "This is Bridget Baxter. I'm just calling to let you know I can't make our appointment today."
Betty raised an eyebrow. Baxter? But she had just showed up at the office within the past hour!
"Er..." Betty spotted to respond.
"I've been stuck in bed since yesterday with a terrible cold," Moira continued, and faked a cough. "Afraid I've had to put all my journalistic work on hold."
Betty's eyes narrowed. Whoever this woman was, she certainly wasn't Bridget.
"However," Moira continued. "My colleague Moira would love to interview you. She says she's already done so in the past."
Betty was indeed quite curious, wondering what was going on.
"Er... yes, Moira. Of course I remember her. I... I would love to speak with her again."
"Great!" Moira's excitement almost betrayed her true voice. "I mean (cough) great. Are you available today at four?"
Betty glanced at her watch. It was now a little after two o'clock. Her job at the docks probably wouldn't take much longer than an hour. Then she was free until her evening job.
"I'm available," she said.
"Excellent," Moira responded. "I'll let her know."
She hung up the phone, then turned back to Bridget. "Looks like I'll be getting that interview today. Sorry, Baxter!"
Bridget didn't understand why the scientist had so readily agreed to meet with Moira. Something about this Dr. Avon situation didn't add up. Despite her current predicament, the wheels in her brain began turning. There was more to this Dennison Drilling story than met the eye...
Moira started the car again. "But first, let's deliver you to Dr. Chen, shall we?"
*******************
The police car pulled up to the barn, and the Bombshelles quickly crowded out.
The four women raised their eyebrows. The pizza van was parked outside, but no one was there. The whole place seemed deserted.
Emma's careful eyes scanned the ground. "Another set of tire tracks," she pointed. "Someone else was here recently... but who?"
A quick scan of the security tapes revealed the answer. The girls watched on the screen as a painting van had rolled up in front of the barn.
"Hey," Danni said. "Isn't that the vehicle we stole last night?"
Emma squinted. "I think it is. How...?"
The girls continued watching as a tall Asian woman exited the van and entered the barn. Emma fast-forwarded the tape, until the pizza van showed up again. The uniformed girl got out, and then headed around the barn.
"That's the bitch who got us into this mess," Danni muttered. "When I get my hands on her..."
Izzy said nothing, but she couldn't help noticing that the pizza girl was rather attractive.
Soon, the Asian woman exited the barn, carrying two bound, gagged, and underwear-clad women over her shoulders. She tossed the women into the back of the painting van, then returned into the barn. She exited moments later with another two similarly-secured women, tossing them into the back of the van as well. Then she got into the front of the van and drove off.
"Who the hell is that?" Emma said aloud. "And more importantly, how the hell do we find her?"
The Bombshelles looked at one another questioningly. Then Anna raised her hand. "I... may have an idea."
As the others listened, she continued. "Last night, I accidentally dropped one of my detonators in the van. I know, sorry, I'm usually not that careless..."
"Aren't you?" Danni muttered. Emma shot her a look.
"...but if it's still there, we can probably trace its radiation signature. Right?"
Emma thought for a moment, then nodded. "Let's do it. We've got to find this woman and get to the bottom of all this."
She retrieved a tracker from the lab, and the four women piled once again into the police vehicle.
Another part to serve as build up. Now, I'm waiting for the moment of the big confrontation with everyone, even though I guess that it will take a few more parts before that.
It had been twenty long, agonizing minutes since Prema had begun cutting the thick layers of tape on her wrists - but it felt like hours. Her hands were quite sore, yet she kept working.
Finally, she felt sufficient slack in her bonds. Summoning her muscles, she pulled hard. The tape snapped. She was free.
Prema lay, sweating and panting, for the next few seconds. She pulled the tape from her mouth, gulping in lungfuls of air. Then she peeled the scraps of tape from her wrists and slowly rubbed them until the blood began recirculating at a normal rate.
Slowly, her strength returned. She sat up and used the vase shard to slice the bonds which held her ankles. Then she stood up and stretched.
She shivered. It was cold in the apartment, and she'd been in her underwear since last night. Perhaps she could find some clothes in the closet...
"No!" She shook her head. The police. She had to call the police, immediately.
She found a phone cradled in the wall, and quickly dialed. A woman's voice answered. "911, what is your emergency?"
"I've been kidnapped," Prema said. "Some crazy woman abducted me last night and locked me in her closet."
"My goodness," the woman responded. "Do you know the address?"
"I'm at..." Prema looked around, then spotted some unopened mail on the countertop. She read the address. "...327 Beechwood Street, Apartment 414. Please help..."
"All right, miss, just stay calm," the woman said. "My name is Barbara, and I'm here to help. We'll send a squad car over. Just stay on the line."
"Thank you," Prema said. "Thank you so... oh!"
She heard a knocking sound at the front door.
"Miss?" Barbara asked. "Miss, what's wro..."
Prema immediately hung up.
Barbara stared at the phone for a moment, then pressed the receiver on her desk. "Send a cruiser to 327 Beechwood, Apartment 414. Some woman claiming to be kidnapped. Probably a crank call, but we need to make sure."
Outside of Bridget's apartment, Felicia drew a key from her pocket.
"Bridget must really trust you," Bobbi mused.
"Of course she trusts me," Felicia chuckled, turning the lock. "She knows I'm not dumb enough to double-cross her."
The two girls entered the apartment. "Bridget?" Felicia called out. "You home?"
Silence for a moment, then a voice shook. "You... you're that crazy woman's friend."
Felicia and Bobbi turned to see Prema standing in the kitchen doorway, wielding a broom as a weapon.
Bobbi squinted, shutting the front door behind her. "Who the hell...?"
"Oh!" Felicia snapped her fingers. "I remember you. You're that girl from Bridget's closet."
Prema glared at them. "I have a PhD in Nuclear and Radiological Engineering from the University of Florida," she said shakily. "I have a prestigious position as Chief Geologist and Radiologist for Dennison Drilling, LLC. I've self-published two books about paleogeographic evolution. Don't you dare," she spat, "call me 'that girl from Bridget's closet'."
Felicia and Bobbi exchanged a glance. Then Bobbi smiled at Prema. "Maybe we should talk."
"We most certainly will not," Prema said. "The police will be here any minute. And don't count on your friend Bridget to save you. She's been kidnapped, and she's never coming back."
Felicia frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Bobbi nudged her. "Um, Licia? Look."
She pointed out the window. A police car had just pulled up in front of the building. Two uniformed policewomen got out and strode towards the entrance.
"We'd better move quick," Bobbi said.
Felicia nodded. She approached Prema. "I'm sorry about this."
"Don't come near me!" Prema swung the broom at Felicia's head. Felicia easily blocked her move, then knocked Prema to the ground with a leg sweep.
Prema tried to get to her feet, but Felicia quickly put her in a headlock, cutting off the oxygen to her brain. "Shh... Easy, girl, easy."
"No... no, you can't...... uggghhhh..."
After twenty seconds of futile struggling, Prema passed out.
At that moment, a knock came at the door. "Police. Open up."
"I'll handle them," Bobbi told Felicia. "You take care of Closet Girl."
As Felicia dragged Prema out of sight, Bobbi approached the front door and opened it. "Afternoon, officers. How may I help?"
The policewomen were dressed in standard blue uniforms with black pants and boots. One was a brunette, the other a redhead. Both wore peaked caps and Ray-Ban Aviators.
"We received a call from this apartment," the redhead stated. "Something about a kidnapping."
Bobbi looked surprised. "Gosh, officers... My roommate must've been prank-calling you. I wish she'd knock it off."
"May we come in anyway?" the brunette asked. "It sounds like we need to talk to your roommate."
Bobbi stepped aside, gesturing for the policewomen to enter. "Come on in."
The brunette stepped in first, followed by the redhead. Bobbi closed the door, a mischievous smile on her face.
Then she shoved the redheaded officer in the back, hard, sending her careening into her friend. Both women fell ungracefully to the ground, landing in a heap.
Bobbi quickly unsnapped the redhead's gun from its holster, then pointed it at the two women. "Drop your weapon," she ordered the brunette.
The policewoman obeyed, unholstering her gun and tossing it aside. She glared at Bobbi. "You'll spend decades in prison for this."
"We'll worry about that later," Bobbi said curtly. "Right now, our friend may be in trouble."
Felicia reentered and saw the policewomen kneeling on the floor, hands behind their heads. "Good work," she smiled at Bobbi.
"I don't know what you girls think you're doing," the redhead snarled, "but you're in deep trouble right now. Don't make it worse for yourselves."
Felicia ignored her and continued speaking to Bobbi. "We'll need their clothes. People saw two policewomen come in, they need to see two come out."
Bobbi nodded. "Their car could be helpful, too." She turned back to the officers. "All right, ladies, let's go. Off with the uniforms."
Angrily, but with no choice in the matter, the policewomen began unbuttoning their jackets, unzipping their skirts, and pulling their legs out of their boots. Bobbi kept the gun trained on them the whole time.
"Hurry it up," she urged. "We're on a timetable here."
Once the patrolwomen had been reduced to their bras and panties (cream-colored for the brunette, bright pink for the redhead), Felicia found some duct tape and used it to secure them. After binding and gagging the women separately, she secured them together back-to-back, with lengths of duct tape running above and below their breasts.
Felicia and Bobbi changed into the police uniforms, then dragged their original owners into the nearby closet.
"If it's any consolation," Bobbi told the gagged-and-bound woman, "I've never been more thankful for the police force."
The women glared at her, "mmmphhh"ing into their gags. She shut the door.
Prema stirred, feeling the cold floor beneath her. She awoke, slowly, to find her wrists and ankles once again taped together.
"Damn it, let me go!"
Felicia looked down at her. "Not until you tell us what happened to Bridget."
"I don't know! Some blonde woman tied her up and took her away. Said someone named... er, Dr. Chan would take care of her."
Both girls froze. "...Dr. Chen?"
Bobbi felt her fists clench. "We've got to find her."
"We will," Felicia replied. "And we're taking her with us."
"What?" Prema said indignantly. "You can't... hmmph!" She was tape-gagged again.
A few minutes later, two women in police uniforms exited the building, a third woman shouldered between them. It was difficult to identify the third woman, as she was heavily dressed in one of Bridget's coats, which went up to her nose (concealing the gag) and down to her ankles (hiding the bonds).
Felicia and Bobbi tossed the captive Prema into the backseat of the police cruiser and got in the front. The radio crackled to life.
"Car 61, have you anything to report on the Beechwood incident?"
Felicia put the radio to her lips. "This is Car 61. Just a prank call, ma'am. No kidnappings at all to report."
Barbara sighed. "I figured as much. What a boring day."
"Tell me about it, girlfriend."
Felicia shut off the radio and started the engine. "What I wouldn't give for a boring day..."
"How do we find Bridget?" Bobbi asked.
"I can track her phone," Felicia smiled. "Like I said, she trusts me."
Bobbi nodded. "What are we waiting for? Let's find Bridget. If Chen's hurt her, I'll..."
"We won't give her the chance," Felicia said stoically, as she began to drive.
*****************
Meredith leaned slowly back in her large, high-back executive chair. She laced her fingers against her chest and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of her freshly painted office walls. It had been only a slight color change - from dark blue to teal - but it imbued the office with a more commanding atmosphere, and gave her a more authoritative air. As President and CEO of Dennison Drilling, LLC, she was not one to let her employees feel comfortable in her presence.
A knock at the door. "Enter," Meredith said.
In walked Lucinda, Meredith's wife and Vice President of Dennison, carrying a stack of files. Her lavender pantsuit hugged her every curve, and small diamonds dangled from her earlobes.
"Good afternoon, dear," Lucinda smiled. "I just received the call from our operative. That nosy Baxter reporter won't be bothering us any longer."
Meredith grinned. "Wonderful," she replied. "I would hate for another nosy journalist to stumble upon the more... illegal of our operations. At least this one gets to walk away with her life."
Lucinda chuckled. "It's a good thing we picked up on her investigations earlier this week. Installing taps for phone calls and from this facility has paid marvelous dividends."
"I trust our operative has been sworn to secrecy?" Meredith asked. "I'd hate to have to kill her as well."
"Betty? Oh, she's perfectly trustworthy," Lucinda assured her. "And our money will more than guarantee her silence."
"I hope so, for her sake," Meredith said. "Now, what's that you've got there?"
Lucinda dropped the files on Meredith's desk. "These are the returns for the last quarter," she said. "Not very good, I'm afraid. Most of our mining teams haven't uncovered very much. Hobson Drilling has been far more successful this year."
Meredith opened the topmost file and began flipping through it, frowning. "How are we supposed to maintain solvency? At this rate, Dennison could go tits up within the year."
Lucinda shrugged. "Guess we'll have to put more focus on our... extracurricular activities." She chuckled.
"The drug laundering isn't too profitable, either," Meredith said. "Especially given the amount of money we spend to keep the Feds off our asses."
Lucinda sighed. "Honey, you seem stressed. Isn't it time for a break?" She reached down and stroked her wife's hand. "Just fifteen minutes. I'm sure I can... improve your mood."
Meredith sighed. "We have to brainstorm. If Dennison goes down, we're finished."
Lucinda nodded. "I'm working on a few ideas. Don't worry. Hobson won't be number one for much longer."
Meredith smiled. "Thank you, dear."
******************
"Ouch! Damn these heels," Betty muttered.
She was referring to were a pair of glossy black Jimmy Choo pumps. They had initially belonged to an inspector from the State Department, who had been contacted by an employee of Rucon Steel. Fearing that the executives of Rucon had been engaged in fraud and embezzlement, the employee had emailed a tip with the State Department and asked to meet with one of their officers at a neutral location, so that she could exchange her evidence.
However, unbeknownst to the employee, her email had been intercepted by the company's CFO, Cheryl. Realizing that the whistleblower charges could bring down Rucon, Cheryl considered bribing her employee for her silence, but thought better of it. Instead, she hired Betty at a lower cost to amend the situation.
So it was that Betty was now buttoning up the state inspector's dark blue jacket, and smoothing down her microfiber pants. The shoes would do in a pinch, even if they quite literally pinched her feet.
The real state inspector lay in the alley nearby, wearing no more than her olive-green bra and panties. She was bound with flex and a cloth filled her mouth, which had been covered with tape. She looked fearfully at the tall, confident-looking woman who now stood before her.
"Appreciate the clothes, hon," Betty smiled. "But next time... maybe consider some flats?"
Leaving the government worker sobbing helplessly, Betty turned and headed off to the nearby docks, to meet her unsuspecting quarry.
Prema is so unlucky in this story that I end up wishing she would win at the end. Out of pity. I will admit that I'm now growing impatient to see all these storylines collide. Especially since new antagonits had seemingly been introduced.
(On a side note, I like the fact that you've given more details about the victim's undergarments, as it helps picture them better.)
Prema does seem to be having a rough day. However, the day isn't over yet... and neither is her importance to the story. You'll see what I mean later on.
Don't worry, your patience is about to be rewarded. The next chapter will see several (though not all) of the storylines begin to converge. There's still a while to go before everything wraps up, but hopefully things will start to form a clearer picture very soon.
The painting van pulled up to the warehouse, engine sputtering.
"Looks like it needs some gas," Dr. Chen observed.
She and Zuhal exited the van just as Bridget's car pulled up. Moira got out.
"You have the reporter?" Dr. Chen asked sharply.
Moira nodded. She glanced at Zuhal. "Who are you?"
"I was about to ask the same thing," Zuhal said suspiciously.
"No need for alarm, girls," Dr. Chen said. "We're all friends here. Come on, let's unload our packages and get them inside."
Zuhal obligingly hurried around to the back of the van and flung open the doors. She carried the women, one by one, into the warehouse. Meanwhile, Moira fetched Bridget from her car.
Soon, Karima, Malika, Nadyne, Sabira, Rosa, Amaya, Anika, and Bridget were all safely inside the warehouse. Dr. Chen flung open the door of the closet, were six other bound-and-gagged women now lay.
"Who are they?" Zuhal asked.
"The two muscular women are Alice and Tamara," Dr. Chen explained. "FBI agents or some such. The other four ladies, according to the ID cards I found discarded in the back of their van, are Lucy, Nina, Gwen, and Juliet. Not sure who they are, but I found them tied up in the woods - a nice little bonus in the back of the van."
Zuhal chuckled. "Vans with bound and gagged women... seems to be a trend these days."
Dr. Chen didn't laugh. "Let's get our new additions added to the closet."
Alice and Tamara's eyes widened, as they saw the helpless Rosa. What had happened?
They didn't have much time to contemplate. The two of them, along with the four painters, were shoved aside to make room for the other eight women who were now tossed into the closet.
"They won't be in there for long," Dr. Chen replied. "I've just got to add Bridget's two young friends to my collection, and then we can commence the next phase of my plan."
"May I ask what that is?" Moira piped up.
"You may not," Dr. Chen said. "Your time here is complete. Go on, return to your normal life."
Moira felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. "You're... letting me go?"
"Of course," Dr. Chen said. "I'm a woman of my word. You brought me Bridget, I will let you go. As long as," she added, "you promise to never tell anyone about any of this."
Moira nodded vigorously. "I swear on my life. No one will ever know."
Dr. Chen smiled, and reached into her coat. "Before you go... a little token of my appreciation." She pulled out a small retractable silver pen, and handed it to Moira.
"Good luck on your journalistic career, honey," she said with a smile.
Moira smiled back. "Thank you. Thank you so much!" She hurried out the door. Retrieving her bike from Bridget's trunk, she rode off.
Zuhal glanced at Dr. Chen. "You're just letting her go? That's amazing."
"Not really," Dr. Chen replied. "I swiped that pen from the Bombshelles' hideout. It has a miniature explosive inside. The moment that idiot woman clicks it open... Boom! Dead in a split-second." She chuckled.
Zuhal smiled. "I love it. You're a far better boss than Karima ever was."
So saying, she poked her head into the closet. Karima was wedged tightly between Nadyne and Sabira. She glared up at her former employee.
Zuhal grinned smugly. "What's the matter, Karima? Did you finally double-cross the wrong person?" She laughed. "Well, not to worry. You won't be around to regret it very long."
Karima said nothing. She simply glared at Zuhal with a smoldering fury.
Zuhal shut the door, leaving the fourteen women in darkness. But Karima did not let the lack of light distract her. She was busy thinking up her means of escape.
Karima was a master of escape - she had never been caught by the authorities, and was capable of slipping even the tightest of bonds. Dr. Chen had bound her with complex and intricate knots, and even an expert would have difficulty escaping them. But Karima worked slowly. It would take time, but it would be worth it. Killing Dr. Chen and Zuhal would make it all worth it.
****************
Betty returned to the research building and made a beeline to Dr. Avon's office. She was pleased at her decision to retain the good doctor's lab coat - it provided her once again with a proper disguise. Besides, she mused, she had wasted enough time with that job at the docks; she hadn't the time to pick off another scientist her size to steal her clothes.
Once back in the quiet office, Betty checked the closet. The underwear-clad Dr. Avon was still sleeping peacefully, and was still efficiently bound and gagged.
"Hi, girlfriend," Betty smiled. "Didja miss me?"
A knock at the office door made her jump. She quickly closed and locked the closet. "Just a moment!"
She quickly checked her appearance in the reflection of a metal tray. There was a chance that her new visitor would recognize the real Dr. Avon - but still, Betty needed to look the part of a professional scientist as best she could. She pulled the fake glasses from her pocket and slipped them over her eyes.
Moira tapped her boot impatiently from the other side of the door. She could hardly contain her excitement - with Bridget out of the picture, she would finally get all the glory owed to her!
Betty opened the door. "Good evening! May I help you?"
Moira raised an eyebrow. "What... You're not Dr. Avon. What are you doing in her office?"
"Oh, pardon me." Betty quickly improvised. "My name is..." She quickly glanced at Moira's boots. "...Dr. Marten. Dr. Avon is letting me use her office while mine is being fumigated."
Moira eyed her strangely. "You sound... exactly like the woman I just spoke to on the phone."
Betty bit her lip. This woman was smarter than she looked.
"Won't you come in?" she asked. "Dr. Avon stepped out for a moment, but she'll be back momentarily."
Moira noticed the little "Dr. Avon" tag on Betty's jacket. She began to back away. "Actually, I need to go..."
"You're not going anywhere!" Betty grabbed Moira's arm and forcefully pulled her into the office.
With her superior training, it was easy for Betty to overpower the helpless Moira, who was quickly rendered unconscious. A strip-search revealed that Moira carried no weapons or tracers - her most interesting possession was a shiny black pen, which Betty happily tucked into her shirt pocket. Then she rolled over the underwear-clad girl and began to bind and gag her with some wires and tape from the lab supply shelves.
****************
Ten minutes later, Felicia pulled the police car up in front of the old, dilapidated warehouse.
"Sure this is the place?" Bobbi asked.
Felicia frowned. "The phone signal ends here."
"Then let's go inside!"
Felicia paused, staring at the warehouse. There were shadows by the window... A woman's back was turned.
"Hey, that looks like..." Felicia's eyes widened.
The woman turned slightly, her face now in profile view. Felicia gasped. "Dr. Chen!"
Dr. Chen moved away from the window, apparently not noticing the car outside.
"What do we do?" Felicia whispered.
"Take her down," Bobbi replied confidently. "We did it before, we can do it again. Get that bitch to tell us what she knows about Bridget's whereabouts."
Felicia bit her lip. "She's dangerous. And cunning. We may not be able to face her alone."
"Don't bail out on me now," Bobbi pressed. "Bridget's in trouble. We've got to rescue her. Come on!"
She started out of the car and headed for the warehouse, gun drawn.
"Bobbi, we shouldn't..." Felicia stopped herself. Then, with a deep breath, she stepped out of the vehicle.
"Hrrrmmmmpppphh!" Prema called from the back seat, still struggling against her bonds. She banged her feet against the car door,
Felicia put a finger to her lips. "Shut up! Do you want to get us killed? Trust me, the woman in that house will be a lot less sympathetic to you than we are."
From inside the warehouse, though, Dr. Chen's ears perked at the noise. "Sounds like we've got company," she told Zuhal.
Bobi and Felicia quietly approached the warehouse, circling around to the back. The door was old and splintery, its oaken frame worn by termites.
Bobbi kicked the door with all her might. It broke off its hinges and fell inward.
"Always wanted to do that," she smiled, ignoring the pain in her foot.
Dr. Chen was seated at the table, reading a book. She looked up in horror as the two women in police uniforms entered. "Wh-what's the problem? Officers, please don't hurt me... I'm just a poor woman trying to find some peace..."
"Bullshit," Bobbi said, drawing her gun, as Felicia did likewise. "You're an escaped convict. And you're coming with us."
At that moment, two other guns were pressed to the back of the girls' heads.
"She's not going anywhere," Zuhal said with a grin. "Drop those weapons."
Dr. Chen smiled. "Better do as she says, girls. I do not like shooting people, but I'll gladly have my assistant do it."
Frustrated, but with no other options, the girls obeyed.
Dr. Chen approached them and pullled off their caps. "Ah! I thought I recognized you. Bridget's little friends. The ones who stopped me last time. Say, that reminds me..."
She curled her hand into a fist and slammed it into Felicia's jaw. The girl slid to the floor, out cold.
"That felt so good," Dr. Chen said with a chuckle. "Looks like you girls won't be thwarting me this time."
"Yes, we will," Bobbi said defiantly. "Whatever you're up to, you won't get away with - uuunnnggghhh!"
She crumpled to the floor as Zuhal hit her with the butt of her gun.
"Thought I recognized her, too," Zuhal muttered. "She's the bitch who stripped me and tied me up a while back."
"And now they've both delivered themselves to our door," Dr. Chen laughed. "It's delicious... so very delicious. Come, let's get them stripped and secured."
Working together, it took almost no time at all for Dr. Chen and Zuhal to divest Felicia and Bobbi of their uniforms.
"Tie them up," Dr. Chen ordered. "I'm going to make sure everything is set for my plan to commence."
While Zuhal obligingly began to gag their two newest prisoners with tape and bind them with white nylon rope, Dr. Chen opened her laptop and began typing studiously. The encrypted files on the NASA website constantly underwent password changes, and they had no doubt been altered several times in the last few months. But that was not a problem for Dr. Chen, whose extensive knowledge of the NASA database allowed her to easily hack her way into the system, security measures be damned.
"Excellent," she grinned. "An experimental rocket is launching tonight. Security will be tight, so we'll need to obtain disguises. Shouldn't be a problem."
"You really think this can work?" Zuhal asked, tightening Felicia's wrist-bonds.
"I wouldn't be investing this much time and effort into this plan if I thought it would fail," Dr. Chen replied. "By midnight tonight, all our problems will be over."
Before Zuhal could respond, something outside the window caught her eye. Another police car had just pulled up in front of the warehouse.
Dr. Chen noticed her stare, and glanced at the window herself. "Well, well," she said. "More uninvited guests."
"The painting truck should be around here somewhere," Emma surmised.
"Looks like a light on in the warehouse," Danni noted. "Think we should...?"
"I'll go check it out," Emma said. "You three stay here. This police uniform should buy me some credit with whomever's inside. Plus, I'm the only one who's carrying a gun."
So saying, she stepped out of the car and strode over to the warehouse door. She knocked, twice.
No answer. She glanced back at the car. "Seems like nobody's ho-"
Immediately, the door opened, and a hand shot out. It grabbed Emma's shoulder and she was yanked inside with a helpless scream.
Danni, Anna, and Izzy sat dumbfounded in the squad car, wondering what had just transpired.
Then, before they could move, a voice came from outside the car, behind them. "Best get your hands raised, my pretties. There's little sense in resisting, unless you'd like your uniforms filled with bullet holes."
Zuhal had crept around to the back of the car, and now stood, smiling triumphantly, pointing two loaded guns at the three Bombshelles.
The three women were herded out of the car like so much cattle and into the waiting warehouse. There, Dr. Chen was busy stripping the unconscious Emma.
"Don't know who you girls are," Dr. Chen addressed her latest unwilling visitors. "But I'll need you out of those clothes. Quickly, girls, before my associate lets her bullets persuade you..."
Confused and angry, but with their options quite limited, Danni, Anna, and Izzy began unzipping their dresses and shimmying their bodies out of them.
"Who the hell are you?" Danni asked indignantly. "Why did you kidnap those Arab girls? What's going on?"
Zuhal raised an eyebrow. "Arab girls? You mean... Karima and her team? They friends of yours?"
"No way," Anna spat. "Those bitches will pay for what they did to us. And so will you!"
"I won't be paying for anything, dear," Dr. Chen replied. "Now cut the chit-chat. We need you all nicely secured before my plans can progress."
"How many more of these, boss?" Zuhal asked. "My arms are starting to ache from tying up all these women."
"I think we're just about finished," Dr. Chen responded. "Just get these three bound and gagged; I'll go check outside for anyone else."
Dr. Chen exited the warehouse and advanced toward the two police cars. The nearest one was empty, save for a deadened radio. There seemed to be muffled sounds, however, coming from the other vehicle.
Dr. Chen gazed through the window, her smile broadening. Lying in the back of the police car was a tall and elegant Indian woman, gagged and bound and clad in bra and panties. The woman was sobbing softly, pulling vainly against her bonds.
"This day just keeps getting better," Dr. Chen chuckled, opening the door of the car. "Come, my beauty, let's put you with the rest of my collection..."
At that moment, a squeal of tires alerted her. She looked up in surprise as a large black van stopped in front of the warehouse. It looked quite similar to the one she'd run across earlier.
Two women in body armor jumped out. They approached, hands on their holsters.
"Afternoon, ma'am," Amber said in her most professional-sounding voice. "We're with the FBI. Looking for a woman named Alice. Tall, sandy-haired, good build... Have you seen her?"
Lauren glanced down at the police car. "Say, is.. is there a girl tied up in there?"
Dr. Chen sighed. "Ladies, ladies," she said. "You're making this too easy."
With that, she picked up Prema bodily and swung her at the two agents.
Before long, twenty-three women lay on the floor of Dr. Chen's apartment. All bound, all gagged, none clad in anything more than their underwear.
"Load them in the FBI van," she commanded Zuhal. "It's the only vehicle that will fit them all."
Zuhal hurried to obey. She flipped one of the painters over her shoulder and carried her out, tossing her into the open back of the truck. The girl landed with a squeal on her pert posterior. She was soon joined by another... and another... Before long, the van had been filled to capacity with helpless, struggling women.
Zuhal surveyed them with amusement. "Don't you girls look lovely?" she remarked. "Shame you all have to die... but not much of a shame."
"Mmmphh!" Malika looked at her former friend and coworker, her eyes pleading for mercy.
Zuhal smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Malika... I know we were once friends. But what was it you told me last night? You respect Karima because she's 'loyal to her team.' Well, I'm loyal to my team as well. It just so happens, though, that I'm on Dr. Chen's team now. Bye, girls!"
She shut the rear door, plunging the twenty-three women into darkness.
Malika began to sob, softly. It couldn't end this way... it couldn't...
Suddenly, she felt a warm leg brush against her own.
It was dark, but Malika could make out the sight of a tall blonde woman... one of the Bombshelles. Malika remembered her... It was the girl with the warm smile and lovely breasts. The one whose bonds she'd loosened earlier.
Malika felt awful. If this girl had still been tied up in the forest, her life would probably not be in danger at this moment. She wanted to apologize... to admit that she felt... something... for this girl. But the gag prevented any words from coming forth.
Izzy didn't need words. She simply snuggled against Malika as the tan-skinned girl continued to cry. Though this woman had gassed her earlier, Izzy somehow knew she wasn't truly evil. In fact... she was quite attractive.
Karima watched furiously from nearby as Malika and Izzy did their best to console one another. She couldn't believe it - one of her girls, consorting with an enemy!
'First Zuhal, now Malika,' Karima thought. 'Betrayal seems to be the order of the day. They'll both be sorry.'
She had almost finished undoing the first knot.
*****************
The sun was just entering its early evening phase as April began patrolling her sector of the grounds outside the Hobson Drilling Co. facility. As one of six security guards assigned to monitor the perimeter of Hobson, she was more than up to the task - and had been looking forward to it for a while. As the largest oil facility in North America, Hobson employed over fifty armed security guards outside its massive Texas headquarters, and the half-dozen guards assigned to patrol the outside of the facility every evening were always selected from the group at random. Tonight was April's first night on outdoor patrol in over three months, and she was pleased to finally be getting some fresh air.
What made the night's "draft" especially interesting was that, for the first time in almost a year, all six of the guards assigned to the outdoor patrol were female. Though Hobson employed a mostly-male security staff, there were a handful of capable female security guards on their payroll, and April was proud to stand beside her sisters-in-arms. If any mischief happened their way tonight, she would certainly take care of it.
Dressed in the standard-issue uniform of slate-grey sweater beneath black Kevlar vest, black slim pants and blacker boots, with Ray-Ban sunglasses over her blue eyes and a dark cap over her ponytailed chestnut hair, April certainly looked intimidating. The uniform also showed off her well-toned musculature - with her training, she could incapacitate a man twice her size without breaking a sweat. But of course, she mused, no man would be brave enough to cross her.
As she turned the corner, she saw another woman in identical security uniform walking toward her, cap pulled low. Judging by her build and caramel skin tone, April immediately pegged her for her friend Dierdre.
"Hey, Dee," she called, as the two women neared each other. "Nice night, eh?"
The woman didn't answer. She approached April and looked up with a sinister smile.
April looked stunned. This was not Dierdre. "Who... who are you?"
At that moment, she felt cold metal against the base of her warm neck. "Don't make a sound," a woman's voice came softly from behind her. "Don't even move. You blink funny, it'll be the last thing you'll ever do."
Grinning, the brown-skinned woman reached over and removed April's gun from her belt.
April felt sweat brimming on her forehead. She did not know what was going on, but she did her best to keep still.
"There's a good girl. Now, off with the clothes. You won't be needing them tonight."
April remained still, unsure if she had heard correctly.
"I said remove your clothes," the woman behind her repeated. "If you're not down to your bra and panties within sixty seconds, I pull the trigger. That's a promise."
Hurriedly, April obeyed. She pulled off her boots and shimmied out of her pants. Then she unzipped the vest and pulled of her sweater. Within fifty-two seconds, she stood shivering in her plain white bra and matching panties.
"Well done," the voice commanded. "Marina, get her secured while I change."
The dark-haired woman smiled and produced a roll of strong twine from her belt, which she now used to secure poor April hand and foot. April could only watch helplessly as the other woman, a tall blonde with a slight scar above her left eyebrow, dressed in the uniform she'd been forced to surrender.
Marina used a thick cloth to gag April, who was by this point holding back tears. But her eyes now registered surprise as, from out of the shadows, four other women emerged, all dressed in Hobson security uniforms. April recognized none of them.
"Darla, help Marina put her with the others," the blonde ordered. "And hurry up. We've got a job to do."
Marina and a redheaded accomplice picked up April and carried her around the corner to a waiting van at the far end of the facility perimeter. The redhead flung open the rear doors. April could only stare in shock at the five women inside - her fellow patrolwomen, all bound and gagged as she was - and all stripped down to their underwear. Despite her situation, April could not help noticing that her colleagues all wore fancier undergarments than hers - most wore pink or blue, and Cora sported decorative hearts on her panties. Even Ronda, who had chosen plain white underwear that day, had opted for a plunge bra that was considerably more revealing than April's.
Marina and Darla threw April atop the pile of her underwear-clad cohorts, then shut the doors. They returned to their four waiting partners.
The blonde spoke into her cell phone. "Uniforms acquired. We'll begin planting the explosives immediately."
"Excellent," came the voice from the other end.
"Casualties will likely be in the single digits, although they could be higher if a lot of workers are staying late."
"Oh dear," Lucinda replied. "Some Hobson employees might lose their lives? How horrible. Remind me to buy a crying towel." She laughed.
"We'll get back to you once the job is complete," the blonde continued. "Remember our fee."
"A million dollars each," Lucinda said. "I've already deposited it into your bank accounts. It's worth every penny."
"Thank you, ma'am." The blonde hung up.
Lucinda smiled. Soon, Dennison Drilling would be number one again. And nothing would stand in their way.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the ring of her cell phone.
"What do you want? You took care of the Baxter woman, correct? Our contract is over."
"Not quite," Lucy said with a hint of triumph in her voice. "I just took care of another reporter - a friend of Bridget's named Moira - trying to investigate Dennison. I think that earns me a bonus."
Lucinda raised an eyebrow. "Took care of her how?"
"Well, I tried to throw her off with my disguising skills, but she was a little too clever for her own good. Long story short, I've got her tied up in my trunk."
Lucinda sighed. "Then kill her."
Betty shook her head. "I'm not a murderer. But I can tie her to some trees out in a forest where she won't be found for a long while. All I ask for is a nice 30% bonus in my paycheck."
Lucinda grit her teeth. Betty was beginning to annoy her. "I won't have any loose ends," she said. "If you won't kill her, bring her to me. I'll put a bullet in her myself."
There was silence on the other end. "Will I get my thirty percent bonus?"
"Forty percent if you get here within the hour," Lucinda replied.
"Deal." Betty hung up.
Lucinda tapped her heel in frustration. This Moira woman had to die, no question. But now it seemed as if Betty was too dangerous to leave alive as well.
She pressed the button on her intercom. "Karen," she told her secretary. "Cancel my evening appointments. I have... other things to take care of."
