Volume 4: A Most Wanted Woman

[rufusluciusivan]

he's fun to write for, certainly, and this will probably not be the last we see of her.

In this volume or in this saga? Curious to see where Karima's story arc is heading. After all, a good villain doesn't have to be sympathetic to serve their purpose.

[Trackman281]

I wasn't expecting the first thing we see of Bobbi, Zuhal and Bridget to be in a fragile crate, oh how the might fall.

Then not after I finished that bit, you bring us one heck of a fight between Chandra and Sonja vs Lorelei and Verna, and you finished it off with and very embarrassing defeat for Lorelei and Verna. I love this chapter already.

I actually Marina's always jokey personality, it's refreshing and gives a sense of individuality.

See I actually quite enjoyed the scene with Doreen, Yasmin and Parker, it was pretty neat to have her disguise blown pretty much immediately and have back in captivity, cue missile guided Karma I suppose. Absolutely brilliant work with that scene as a whole.

The next scene with Linda and Moira was great, you described it greatly and really set the tone of the scene wonderfully, plus the dialogue between the two of them was amazing.

Aahh one of the rare USB characters that actually gives her victims the chance to just simply hand over there uniforms first to save any unnecessary aggro. Willa is a pretty cool character and I hope we see more of her soon. Also, wow once again you really are the USB genuineness when it comes to new and original uniforms to steal. A sushi girl uniform, once again that's not something I could of thought, you really know how to keep on surprising us with all these new uniform. Very nicely done.

HAHA, I never tire of Ashley, she just such an unlucky character but that's why we love her, she's incredible and her little "welcome to the club" gesture, well that was just the cherry on top. Your universe is chock full of characters of various personalities and characteristics, I'm impressed of how you remember to give all of them (new and old) the screen time they all rightfully deserve.

I see you had a plan for Parker all along with that great ending to this chapter. Well as I'm sure you've probably guessed by now, I absolutely loved this chapter, you really pulled out the big guns when it came to writing it as I really think it had everything. I twas just fantastic, thank you for another great chapter.

[tirepanted3]

Rufusluciusivan: Ashley hasn't got much of a role in this volume, but stay tuned or the next one! And it's true that villains don't need to be sympathetic (Dr. Chen is quite cold and calculating), but I've found it interesting to try and humanize Karima - just a little - over the last couple of volumes.


Trackman: Not a very dignified role for Bobbi and Bridget, is it? But I'm sure they'll build themselves back up soon enough. I like adding in the occasional fight scene to shake up the story, plus I couldn't resist humiliating Lorelei and Verna again (getting their clothes stolen for the second time).

Marina has become one of my favorite characters to write - she may be a villain, but her constant jokes and upbeat personality have really helped shape her as a character. I've also had fun developing newer characters like Linda and Willa. The sushi girl concept was a spin on the "pizza delivery girl" I've used a couple of times in the past. For some reason, women sent to deliver food never seem to have much luck in these stories.

I'm glad that Ashley has made such an impression on people. She will have to break out of the loop of getting her clothes stolen eventually... And yes, I added that scene with Parker so that Felicia would be able to have a uniform to steal without going through the mugging process.

I won't lie - it's a challenge writing so many dozens of characters and giving them all storylines and personalities and keeping track of them all. Sometimes I'm tempted to throw in even more, but I gotta know my limits. This series can be tough to write, but I certainly enjoy doing so.

[tirepanted3]

"Think we can get some music in here?" Sonja asked.

Chandra kept her eyes on the rocky, tree-lined road ahead. "Sure, switch on the radio. Just don't put on any of that modern crap."

"You've got no taste, honey," Sonja laughed. But she turned the radio to an '80s pop station.

As the music filled the car, Bridget slowly stirred. What was happening? Where was she?

Answer: In the back of a cold metal van. Bobbi was lying beside her, similarly bound and gagged, and still unconscious. Zuhal was off to one side, looking no better. All three of them had been stripped to their underwear.

Bridget tested the bonds. Strong. Whoever had tied her up was no amateur.

She was about to attempt to sit up when she caught sight of a figure moving beneath the blanket on the floor. The blanket lifted, slightly.

Bridget's eyes nearly bulged from her skull.

Prema put a finger to her lips. She did not seem thrilled to see Bridget, but there was a determined look in her eyes.

She held up a small penknife from one of the discarded FBI belts. Bridget nodded and carefully rolled over, exposing her bound wrists.

The van would hit the occasional bump, jarring and jolting its occupants. Using a knife to cut ropes in such conditions would be difficult... but Prema had to try.

******************

The Maples performed their routine with fine-tuned clarity and purpose. They danced and waved their banners with synchronized professionalism.

Fortunately, the girl Farah had chosen to replace was one of the less-integral members of the team. She was able to follow the routine easily enough; hopefully, no one would notice that she worked one step behind the other girls.

Farah also kept one eye on the referee. What was Adelaide planning? And would she recognize her?

Fortunately, the answer to the second question seemed "no." Adelaide had only met Farah briefly, during that dark night in the airfield. She had not taken the time to study the young woman's face.

The routine began building to its climax. Annette applauded her team. "Bravo, girls! I just know we'll take home the trophy!"

Joanna caught sight of Adelaide and winked. Adelaide winked back. She blew her whistle.

"Foul, girls! Can't step over the boundary line!"

Annette looked surprised. "What are you talking about? No one stepped over..."

"The rules are very clear," Adelaide responded. "I'll have to report this to the tournament judges."

She walked off, leaving a very bewildered Annette behind.

Farah watcher Adelaide talking to the judges. It was a bit too crowded for her to confront the "referee" now. But soon, very soon...

*****************

Josie paced the parking lot as she surveyed the four women before her.

"So that's the plan, team. All clear?"

The four women of Delta Squad - Josie's team, and one of the most exceptional teams in the FBI - nodded. They had been on surveillance missions before, and knew the drill inside and out.

Josie looked at the agents again, all cad in their black tactical gear. The tall, dark-haired woman had been working with these ladies for years now. There was Nicole, the athletic blonde. Bella, the tan-skinned, dark-haired beauty. Eleanor, the quick-footed but absent-minded redhead. Rebecca, the dark-skinned sharpshooter. And...

"Where's Parker?" Josie asked.

The agents looked around, unsure of what was keeping their teammate.

At that moment, the door to the garage opened, and another woman in tactical gear, a helmet, and sunglasses hurried through.

Josie frowned. "Late as always, Parker. Come on, let's get our asses in gear."

"Er..." Felicia didn't know what to say. She hadn't even heard the real Parker's voice; how could she mimic it properly? Besides, she had to get out of here...

"Let's go," Josie snapped her fingers and pointed to their van. "It's your turn to drive today, Parker. Catch." She tossed a set of keys.

Felicia caught the keys, and realized what was quickly becoming a stroke of good fortune. She smiled and followed the other five women to the van.

Josie and her four compatriots piled into the back of the van, discussing their own workload of the day. Felicia climbed into the front seat and strapped in.

"You know where we're going?" Josie asked.

Felicia gave a thumbs-up. But in reality, she didn't know or care where the other FBI agents intended to go.

She had her own destination in mind.

******************

"Where the hell's our vehicle?" Cassandra growled.

Marina looked around the area. "You parked it right here outside the stadium," she noted.

"Where?"

"It was right there," Marina pointed. "Beneath the 'tow-away zone' sign."

Cassandra glared at her.

Marina blinked. "Whoops."

"You knew I was parked in a tow-away zone?" Cassandra growled. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Hey, I was busy mugging those two security guards!" Marina protested. "And anyway, I didn't think it was a big deal. We were just going to be at the stadium a few minutes. I didn't think some tow truck was gonna come along in the meantime."

"Well it did, and now we're stuck here," Cassandra grumbled. "Unless we can find some new wheels."

"That shouldn't be a problem. There's a parking lot on the other side of the stadium. A lot of cars just right for the picking."

"Protected by heavy surveillance cameras," Cassandra countered. "Gonna be tough to lift a vehicle from there."

Marina considered the options. Then she heard a rumbling noise. A small utility truck drove up the road and pulled up in front of the stadium.

Two women stepped out of the vehicle, dressed in orange jumpsuits, blue caps, and light brown boots. The taller one, a white-skinned woman with caramel-blonde hair, carried a clipboard. Her coworker, a bespectacled redhead, held a toolbox.

Marina leaned over and whispered to Cassandra. "I think our transportation just arrived."

The two mechanics approached the women they assumed to be real security guards.

"Morning, ladies," the blonde said. "We got a call about possible power failures occurring at the stadium. Sorry we're running late."

"On the contrary," Marina smiled. "You're right on time."

"We were supposed to arrive an hour ago, but we got tied up in traffic," the redhead explained.

"Interesting choice of words," Marina smiled, before Cassandra shot her a dirty look.

"Could you direct us to the electrical room?" the blonde said. "This job shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes."

"Of course," Cassandra beckoned them to a side entrance. "Right this way."

The technicians were both experts in the field, and their time estimate was correct - the resulting work took no more than fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for them, the "work" they were given did not involve repairing wires or replacing circuits. Rather, it involved them being led into a private room, conked over the head, and stripped of their uniforms.

Beneath their jumpsuits, the technicians were less colorful that their bright outfits would lead one to believe. The blonde wore a plain white bikini bra and woolen grey panties. The redhead had a vanilla-colored T-shirt bra and ivory boyshorts.

Marina wasn't all that thrilled with the underwear choice - but she was quite happy to dress in a uniform that wasn't that of a security officer.

"So rare to see female technicians these days," she said to Cassandra. "It's still a heavily male-dominated field. We need to get more women into the profession."

"Didn't know you were a feminist, Mari," Cassandra smiled as she changed out of her security uniform.

"That's not my point," Marina explained. "Technicians present great opportunities for disguises. We need more women on the job so we can mug them when necessary."

"Smart thinking," Cassandra opened the toolbox. "Ah, perfect!"

Inside the box were two coils of strong wire and a roll of electrical tape.

"So thoughtful of them to supply their own bonds and gags," Marina grinned.

Soon, the two technicians were bound back-to-back, their wrists and ankles restrained and their mouths taped shut. They were still unconscious as Cassandra and Marina dressed in their uniforms.

"Bye, girls," Marina waved. "Thanks for letting us 'utilize' your clothes!"

Cassandra winced. "Damn, girl. Your puns just keep getting worse."

Marina flashed a grin. "Thanks, honey."

The women reached the truck and got inside. Cassandra started the engine.

"How long till the big boom?" Marina asked.

Cassandra checked her watch. "Should be another thirty minutes. But we'll be long gone by then."

"Pity," Marina sighed. "I always like sticking around for the fireworks."

****************

Chandra pulled the van to a stop by the river's edge.

"Time to check on our prisoners," she smiled.

She and Sonja stepped out of the van and circled around to the rear doors.

"So how do we do this?" Sonja asked. "Wanna try a little good cop/bad cop?"

"A neat idea," Chandra said. "Only problem is neither of us have had much experience playing the good cop. Remember Lucille's business deal in Fort Myers?"

Sonja nodded. It had been about three years ago - they had accompanied their boss to a rival firm suspected of corruption. Sonja and Chandra had tied up two policewomen, donned their uniforms, and paid the CEO a visit to interrogate him. The plan was to learn the firm's secrets and use them for blackmail. Unfortunately, Sonja and Chandra were still new partners at that point and had not yet learned how to work the interrogation routine, and the interrogation was thus not as revealing as it could have been.

"That was a while ago," Sonja said. "We've become quite a team since then."

"We have," Chandra agreed, unlocking the rear doors of the van. "But I say we keep it simple. If they don't give us the info we want, we tie them to stones and throw them in the river."

"And if they do?"

Chandra laughed. "We omit the stones."

She swung open the doors. "Okay, girls. Who's firs... Uuugghhh!"

Bridget's feet swung out, hitting Chandra square in the stomach. The woman flew back, narrowly avoiding Sonja, and landed in the dirt.

Bridget stepped out of the van - dressed only in her underwear, but still looking quite intimidating. She glared at Sonja. "One down."

Sonja snarled and lunged at Bridget. The journalist grabbed the upper lip of the van and swung her feet out again. But Sonja was quick - she grabbed Bridget's foot and twisted, sending the journalist to the grass.

Bridget rolled out of the way from Sonja's foot and dealt her own karate blow to the woman's thigh. Sonja fell forward, and Bridget pounced.

The women wrestled on the ground, as Prema watched in horror from the van. She hadn't yet had the time to free Bobbi or Zuhal.

Realizing she was physically outmatched, Bridget caught Sonja in a headlock, applying pressure to the woman's neck.

"Urrkk..." Sonja struggled, but Bridget merely pressed tighter.

"Pass out, girl," she muttered. "Just pass the hell out..."

From the doorway, Prema saw Chandra rise to her feet. The woman pulled a gun from her belt and stepped up behind Bridget.

"Look out!" Prema cried.

Instinctively, Bridget's foot shot back, hitting Sonja in the shin. The taller woman twisted as she fell - a poor choice, as it meant landing on her already bruised spine.

"Bitch..." Chandra grumbled, trying to get up.

Bridget slammed her elbow between Chandra's eyes, knocking the woman senseless. "I really hate that word."

By this point, Sonja had also fallen unconscious. Bridget slid to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

Prema hopped out of the vehicle. "My god, they almost killed you..."

Bridget smiled. "Prema, honey. I didn't know you cared."

"I..." Prema looked again at Bridget, a woman she had learned to hate. "I..."

Bridget sat up. "Just teasing. But seriously... thanks. You saved my life. And not for the first time."

Prema nodded, but said nothing.

"Want to go free the others?" Bridget said. "I need to restrain these creeps."

Prema nodded. "What... what's Zuhal doing here? That woman's evil."

"She's trying to change." Bridget got to her feet. "We can trust her. I think."

She looked around. "Do you... hear something?"

It was a whimpering noise, coming from some nearby bushes.

Bridget stepped over and moved the ferns out of the way. She looked surprised, then smiled at the bound-and-gagged figure within.

"Hi, Moira."

Moira squinted in the sun at the sight of her would-be rescuer. Are you kidding me?

****************

"And what does Carolyn do for a living?" Toshiko asked, pouring her sister another cup of tea.

"Bus driver," Atsuko responded. "She works for a rental company. It's a well-paying job... though she had a bit of an incident a few weeks ago."

"Incident?"

"She was ambushed... had her uniform stolen. Best not bring it up when she's around... talking about it makes her uncomfortable."

Toshiko nodded and smiled, sipping her own tea. "Totally understand."

It was nice... just having a conversation with her sister. Like old times.

A knock at the door. Toshiko stood up. "Must be the sushi."

She stepped toward the door. Atsuko remained seated at the table, occasionally glancing toward the back room. Carolyn still had not come out.

Was her wife really that uncomfortable? Atsuko understood Carolyn's fears, but still...

Toshiko opened the door and allowed the sushi girl to enter. "Just leave it right on the table," she told the uniformed woman. "What do I owe you?"

The tall blonde set the food down - and then abruptly whirled, grabbing and twisting Toshiko's arm.

"You owe us... one bomb at Cerberus Chemicals," she said calmly. "Deliver it, or you'll run a very high hospital bill."

Toshiko pulled away. "Okay, honey... You want to fight? We'll fight." She put up her fists. "I warn you, I know seven different fighting styles, and that's not counting the non-lethal ones..."

"Willa?"

Atsuko looked in surprise as she recognized the sushi girl.

Willa glanced down at her. "I say... I know you, don't I?"

She pulled off her cap, shaking her blonde hair loose. "Yes, I know you... you've been to the mansion on business calls a couple of times. You're Ms. Steele's secretary."

Atsuko nodded. "And you're the one who serves dinner whenever I visit," she noted. "What are you doing here? And... why are you dressed in that uniform?"

"This old thing?" Willa gestured at her outfit. "I just mugged a girl outside for it."

"Seriously?" Atsuko sighed. "What's with all the delivery girls getting mugged for their uniforms lately? Remind me never to order takeout again."

"Look, hon," Toshiko interrupted, glaring at Willa. "Go tell Ms. Steele that I'm not going to plant that Cerberus bomb. Changed my mind. She hasn't paid me anything yet, so why don't we both just go our separate ways?"

Atsuko turned to her sister. "Wait... my boss hired you to plant a bomb... at her own factory? Why...?"

"I haven't time for all this chitchat," Willa sighed. "If you won't do the work, I'll have to take drastic action."

Toshiko grabbed Willa's arm, then hit her with a sharp neck chop. The blonde crumpled.

"That's one of the non-lethal styles," she said.

Atsuko's head was reeling. "My boss... is a criminal. And Toshiko... you're not just a villain... you're a killer."

"Hey, hey!" Toshiko said. "Let's not ruin the moment we were having. And I may have done bad things, but I've never killed anyone. Almost no one."

Atsuko glanced at her quizzically. "Almost?"

"Sloane... my old boss. But she was evil and insane, so to hell with her. The point is, I'm on your side. Please believe me."

Atsuko pulled away. "I... don't know what to believe anymore."

She headed toward the back room. "I'm gonna go check on Carolyn."

Toshiko watched, helplessly, as her sister exited.

"This day has been awful," she grumbled.

"It's about to get worse," came a voice from behind her.

Toshiko turned to see an angry-looking Cassandra standing in the doorway, arms folded. Marina was right behind her.

"Now," Cassandra stated tersely, "what was that you were just saying about Sloane?"

****************

Josie consulted her phone. "Okay, ladies... I'm getting more info from HQ. This mission is going to be more complicated than we thought..."

Seated semi-comfortably in the back of the FBI van, she outlined the details to her four fellow agents, who listened with devoted attention.

Felicia, however, paid little attention. She was still concentrating on the road ahead. Occasionally she would glance down at her phone, to make sure she was on the right track towards Bridget's device. The little blip on her phone screen told her it was only a couple of miles away.

"Parker!" Josie shouted. "Where the hell are we? This isn't the highway!"

Uh-oh. Felicia had been hoping the agents would pay more attention to each other than to the road... but no such luck.

"Get back on the main road, Parker! This is no time for sightseeing!"

Thinking quickly, Felicia slowly reached down to her belt. "Sorry, ma'am... got lost."

"What's wrong with your voice?" Josie asked suspiciously. Then her eyes widened. "Wait... you're not..."

Felicia tossed the gas bomb quickly, at the same time swerving the vehicle sharply to the right. Josie fell back and hit the floor, while a disoriented Nicole and Becca landed right on top of her.

The small package exploded, sending sleeping gas through the cabin. Felicia was able to don her gas mask; none of the other five women in the van were as lucky.

"Sleep well, sweethearts," Felicia smiled behind her mask as the gaseous chemicals did their work.

***********************

"So what do you make of them?" Sabira asked.

She gestured at the two tall and well-toned women who lay behind the bushes near the stadium, gagged and bound and stripped to their underwear.

Karima smiled. "I'd say it means our Saboteuse friends have already infiltrated the color guard tournament. It's a good sign."

Sabira inspected the helpless ladies. "Judging by their muscles and build, these two are probably part of the stadium's security team. And judging by the redness around their wrists and ankles, they've been tied up for a while... The Saboteuses might have left already."

Karima shrugged. "We've got to gamble it," she said. "We need to get in there and confront them. First, we'll need some disguise of our own. Follow me."

The two women made their way around to the rear of the stadium, concealing themselves behind the bushes. Fortunately, the green foliage was plentiful and ran for nearly the entire perimeter. Hiding from watchful eyes was easy.

Karima moved some branches out of the way and inspected the rear entrance. "Lots of guards, mostly female," she noted. "It wouldn't be too difficult to pose as a couple of them... but perhaps there's an easier way."

She looked to the parking lot. "...And I think I've just found it."

Two large white trucks with the words "Brunchtime Catering" on the side of each stood in the parking lot. A handful of men and women in catering uniforms moved back and forth between the trucks and the stadium entrance, pushing large trays of food with each new trip. Apparently, there was a banquet planned for the color guard teams when the tournament was over.

Karima's eyes fell on two female caterers, heading back to the second truck for one more trip. This truck was parked a bit further from the stadium, its open back doors facing away from the building.

The caterers were dressed in white button-down shirts with dark grey bowties, black pants, and black sensible shoes. The redheaded, fair-skinned woman was a bit taller while her dark-haired, tan-skinned companion a bit chubbier. Still, they were both roughly the right size.

Karima turned to Sabira. "We only get one chance at this. Ready?"

Sabira smiled. "As ever."

The two caterers had stepped into the back of the truck, to retrieve the food cart from its deepest recesses. Karima and Sabira made a beeline for the open doors, hoping that none of the guards would choose that moment to look in their direction.

Luck was with them, and they clambered into the truck without a hitch. The two caterers looked up in surprise as Karima shut the doors.

"Don't mind us," Sabira smiled, cracking her knuckles. "We're just here for the punch bowl."

The truck rocked back and forth for about twenty-five seconds, its thick metal frame obscuring the sounds within.

It was only a few minutes before the truck doors reopened, and the two uninvited women emerged. A now-uniformed Sabira pushed the metal cart down the small ramp. An identically-dressed Karima followed, straightening her bowtie. She hoisted a large silver platter in one hand.

The real caterers lay back-to-back in the rear of the truck, gagged and bound with tape. The redhead was down to a classic pink bra and orchid-colored silk panties. The brunette had been stripped to her white T-shirt bra and blue-and-white striped bikini panties. The rear doors of the truck were shut and bolted, locking them inside.

Karima and Sabira headed for the stadium. Sabira's cart squeaked as it rolled along the pavement.

"Can't you shut that thing up?" Karima snapped.

"Sorry, boss. It's one of the wheels."

"Right, right... Of course," Karima recollected herself. "Don't mind me... I'm just a little agitated."

"Completely understandable, boss."

Karima took a deep breath. "Okay... on with the show."

******************

"Mmmmrrggghhh!"

"Mmmmpppphhhhhhh!"

Bobbi smiled. "Music to my ears."

She was standing outside the FBI van, enjoying the current display within. Sonja and Chandra, looking far less threatening than they had twenty minutes ago. Chandra had been stripped to her purple full-cup bra and panties, and Sonja to her green demicup bra and briefs. Both women had been bound tightly with white rope and gagged with tape, and neither seemed pleased with their situation.

"Not much fun when it happens to you guys, is it?" Bobbi mused. "Don't worry... the police will have you dressed - in prison jumpsuits, of course - before long."

Sonja and Chandra glared venomously at the young woman, who smiled again and shut the door.

"Seems like someone's got a mean streak," Zuhal chuckled. The tan-skinned woman was leaning on the side of the van.

Bobbi gave her an odd look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Honey, I see how much you enjoy this," Zuhal observed. "You like tying up women and gloating over them. I was just like you at your age. You've got a bad side to you... just like I did."

Bobbi glared at her. "I'm not like you at all."

In response, Zuhal merely laughed.

Bobbi tried ignoring her, and stepped over to the water's edge, where Bridget was conferring with Moira and Prema.

"I can't believe it," Moira shuddered. "Kidnapped for the second time... Such a dreadful experience."

"You don't have to tell me," Prema scoffed.

She was looking back and forth between the two women, neither of whom had treated her well in the past. Both of whom had attacked her and tied her up only a matter of weeks ago. She was still quite acidic about that.

Bridget noticed the anger in Prema's eyes. "Honey," she said in attempted sympathy. "From your description, it sounds like the women who captured you were Karima and her thugs. I have... a history with them as well."

Prema sighed. "Of course you do. You have histories with every crazy villain in the tri-county area."

"Guessing she doesn't know with the woman who attacked me today," Moira piped up. "She worked for Rucon... threatened to kill me if I published any stories about the company's illegal activities."

Prema's brow furrowed. "Rucon... I know that name... They're the steel factory that supplies a lot of the metal Dennison uses to make oil derricks. I've dealt with them a few times."

"Small world," Moira mused. "I'm tempted to interview you about it."

Prema rolled her eyes. "Get real. I still haven't forgiven you for attacking me and tying me up that one time."

"Whatever," Moira shrugged. "But this Prema woman you mention... I think I know where she is."

"Excellent," Bridget smiled as Bobbi walked up. "We'll find her. But first we need to find some clothes... transport... and Felicia. Where is she?"

"Can't you track her phone?" Bobbi asked.

Bridget nodded. "Good idea... I think... I hope... it's still in the van..."

But Bridget's concerns about her missing friend were quickly rendered unnecessary, as another large FBI van appeared over the hill. It rolled up to the riverside and stopped. The driver, a young woman in black body armor, jumped out and removed her helmet.

"Felicia!" Bridget could hardly contain her relief as the girl walked over.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Bobbi hugged her best friend. "Wait a minute... Where did you get this uniform? Did you mug someone for it?" She looked at her suspiciously.

"No, no," Felicia explained. "I mean... not exactly. She was pre-mugged when I stole it."

Bobbi shrugged and smiled again. "No idea what that means, but I'm just glad you're okay."

"Same," Felicia beamed. "Hi, everyone... Good to see you all. Yes, even you, Zuhal. But what are you all doing in your underwear?"

"Freezing, mostly," Moira replied.

"We need to get dressed," Bridget said. "But we're in the middle of nowhere. Any idea where we cam get some new clothes?"

"As a matter of fact," Felicia smiled, "I do."

She walked over to the van she'd just parked and flung open the rear doors. "Voila!"

The other women looked inside and gasped. Lying unconscious on the floor of the van were five women in black body armor, similar to the uniform Felicia wore.

"I wasn't planning on taking their clothes," Felicia admitted, "especially not with that bet still in place. But that doesn't mean you can't! Go ahead... enjoy your new wardrobe."

Prema made a face. "Hell no. I'm not stripping any more women of their uniforms."

"Suit yourself," Zuhal pushed past her. "Personally, I'd prefer not to spend the day in my underwear."

She selected the FBI agent who looked closest to her in size, dragged her out of the van, lay her on the grass, and began unlacing the woman's boots.

Bridget, Bobbi, and Moira each removed another FBI agent from the van as well. Before long, the four women were all engaged in stripping the agents of their boots, helmets, and body armor.

Prema watched their actions with a mix of disgust and fascination.

"There's still one more," Felicia offered.

Prema shook her head. "I'm not... I can't..."

She took another glance at the last FBI agent lying in the van. Her clothes looked warm... comfortable... a good fit...

She sighed. "Fine, let me have her." She reached into the van.

Before long, Bridget, Bobbi, Moira, Zuhal, and Prema were strapping on their new uniforms and lacing up the tall boots.

"You all look amazing," Felicia mused.

The real FBI agents lay sleeping on the grass. Josie was dressed in a blue sports bra and pink speckled panties. Nicole wore a dark red bikini bra and green-and-yellow striped boyshorts. Bella had an eggshell-colored camisole and black briefs. Eleanor had opted for a spartan white bra and violet control panties. Rebecca had the most interesting underwear of the group - sky-blue triangle bra and matching panties, both decorated with pictures of teddy bears.

"I love how women are getting so creative with their underwear choice," Zuhal noted. "Adds a layer of unpredictability to the stripping process."

"How long till they wake up?" Bridget asked.

Felicia checked her watch. "I hit them with the sleeping-gas bomb a little over twenty minutes ago, so... should be another couple hours."

"Best tie them up anyway, just in case," Bridget said. "Bobbi, Moira... could you fetch some spare wires and tape from the vans?"

The two hurried to oblige. As they began binding and gagging the agents, Bridget stepped up to Prema. "So how's the uniform feel?"

Prema hesitated. "Not.. not bad," she admitted. "Certainly better than running around in my underwear."

She crossed her arms. "I still don't like it, though... Robbing innocent women of their clothes. I thought you and your friends consider yourselves the good guys."

Bridget put a hand on her shoulder. "We do," she said sincerely. "But in our line of work, we need to disguise ourselves a lot, and it's not easy to lug around a whole chest full of spare uniforms. Sometimes, we need to 'borrow' whatever's convenient." She chuckled, then got serious. "Besides, we're nothing compared to the real villains out there."

"I can't understand it," Prema shook her head. "Why did this Karima woman kidnap me? I think someone set me up..."

"Could be," Bridget said. "So we're going to catch her... Make her confess."

Before Prema could respond, Bridget called the others over. "Ladies! Let's discuss."

She paced back and forth, like a general inspecting her troops. "I know some of us have had our... differences in the past. But now we're aligned by a common goal: Catching Karma al-Bariqi and bringing her to justice. No one's ever managed to put her behind bars before. But that changes today."

She put her hand out. Felicia and Bobbi immediately placed their hands on top of hers. "Sisters forever," Felicia joked.

"A teamwork circle?" Zuhal raised an eyebrow. "Kinda cheesy... but okay." She put her hand in.

Moira did so as well. "I don't know this Karima woman... but I could use a byline on the story of her capture."

Bridget looked up. "I count five hands... Prema, you in?"

Prema stood off to one side, weighing her options. Then she sighed, stepped forward, and put her hand atop the others.

"Let's get her."

The others cheered. Felicia gave Prema a hug. "Welcome to the team, babe."

"Don't push it," Prema grumbled.

"Come on, ladies," Bridget smiled, strapping on her helmet. "We've got a criminal to catch."

Leaving the five bound-and-gagged FBI agents outside the first van - with a note explaining that only the two women tied up within the van were the real criminals - Bridget, Felicia, Bobbi, Moira, Zuhal, and Prema climbed into the other. Bridget hit the gas, and they were off in the direction of the stadium, the color guard tournament... and Karima.

[rufusluciusivan]

We were supposed to arrive an hour ago, but we got tied up in traffic.

Ma'am, there are some lines you should never utter in a USB story.

It's becoming hard to review without repeating myself . Once again, some good lines and banters. The (inner-)comment about the technicians's underwear and the comment about the rarity of female technicians because it's a male-dominated field and the banter it creates being examples. Still a good thing that you take the time to describe the underwear and the restraints used. I wouldn't even mind having more details from time to time.

Didn't mention it the last time, but I agree with trackmann that it's good to have a few fight scenes such as the one in this part. It brings more variety.

I couldn't agree more with Atsuko. Delivery women seem to really have a hard time in these latest posts, between the sushi girl and Brunchtime Catering.

Looks like cat's out of the bag for Toshiko...

Moira was lucky in the end. (Or maybe not, she was saved by her rival after all.)

Zuhal's exchange with Bobbi, albeit brief, was interesting, because it's true that Bobbi does seem to have developped a mean streak, compared to how much more nicely she acted during the first story. Interested to see where this is going.

Also, is it me, or are the elite teams of the FBI only good to provide clothes to the real heroines? Well, at least they were left in a van and weren't left alone in the cold and there's a note to allow people to not mix them up with the criminals. I guess that's why Bridget and Co can describe themselves as the good girls.

On a side note, I'm glad to see the storylines finally converging.

[tirepanted3]

I always appreciate your feedback, no matter how repetitive. The line about female technicians came about from real statistics - since most technicians/mechanics are male, I thought it would be fun to comment on it. (And how lucky Cassandra and Marina were that the two hired by the stadium happened to be female.) I can certainly provide more detailed descriptions of the underwear from time to time, though I try not to have the descriptions interrupt the flow of the story.

Fight scenes are fun to write, though I don't consider these stories to be action-driven. (Most of the action tends to be covert, since the stories involve lots of disguise and infiltration.) They're just good to include from time to time.

Bobbi has been one of the most interesting characters to develop over the series, due to how much she's changed since Volume 1. She's certainly not the "nice girl" of those early days anymore. And her interactions with Zuhal - one of the few characters who has no problem being honest with her - are certainly fun to write. Stay tuned.

The elite FBI teams certainly aren't good for much, but they're always ready and able to provide other characters with appropriate disguises! But yes, at some point the government will need to start hiring better agents.

I figured you'd be happy to see the storylines converge. Took a while, but now we're building to the climax. Still a couple of big twists and turns before the story is over, as you'll see.

[rufusluciusivan]

I admit that Bobbi's development is as of now one of the things I'm the most interested in. Indeed, there have been a lot of changes between the nice girl who apologized to her first victim and the woman now taking pleasure in overpowering others and even sometimes insults them. Though she doesn't seem perfectly happy when one points out to her what she's become; so I'm curious to see in which direction she will be going.

However I'm sorry to say that I have managed to get a sneak peak on the end of her arc, which I'm about to spoil:

Bridget: "You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Mean Uniform Stealers, not join them. Bring balance to the Uniform Stealings, not leave them in darkness."

Bobbi: "I hate you!"

Bridget: "You were my sister, Bobbi! I loved you."

Sorry.

[tirepanted3]

Haha, that would be quite an ending, wouldn't it? But that's not quite what I have in mind.

Bobbi was easily the character who developed the most in Volume 1, and I've tried to subtly layer in her development (notably her increasing enthusiasm for uniform stealing) across Volumes 2 and 3. Her relationship with Felicia is especially important to the series, and I've tried to give them a yin-yang balance - while Felicia has taken it upon herself to stop mugging other women for their clothes, Bobbi has become more enamored with it than ever. Basically the opposite of where they were in Volume 1.

Her unhappiness with Zuhal's comment stems from the fact that she still doesn't trust Zuhal, and doesn't like being "analyzed" by a woman she perceives to be a villain. But perhaps it's also because she's trying not to acknowledge that there's some truth to Zuhal's comment.

No spoilers, but Bobbi's development is not over. You'll see where she goes over the rest of this story and in Volume 5.

[Trackman281]

Farah got a bit of a break with her disguise I see, it can be funny at times to actually see the characters use there disguises for their original purpose, even if they do muck it up slightly in the process, it's great.

Oh those poor mechanics, if the only redhead new just how true those words were about to become when she mentioned "getting tied up". Nicely done, I like those quips in your stories.

Aahh Marina, while your puns get worse, I still find myself wanting more, please don't stop with the puns, it really is Marina's character and it works phenomenally.

Pretty good fight scene between Bridget, Chandra, Sonja and Prima. Your characters are fantastic when left to their own devices but as soon as they come face to face in scenes together, that's when they are at their finest. Fantastic work.

To be fair at least Willa let them know where she got her uniform as in my experience whenever a character asks that question the other person just usually replies with "it's a long story."

Great job with the scene with Felicia, I was wondering how long she could keep up the charade.

Once again, you crafted another chapter just as good as the last one, the story itself never lets up, the characters are just as driven and filled with personalities as always and overall it is really an enjoyable read. Thank you very much for your latest edition.

[tirepanted3]

Oh, I promise the puns and quips won't stop. Though they might become a bit scarcer as we approach the climax of the story - things may get a bit more serious. And there will definitely be more face-to-face interactions between the characters, as you're about to see.

.................




Denise tapped her watch as she lumbered past the NASA offices to the launching platforms.

"Busted again," she sighed.

The watch read 9:53, same as when she had checked it ten minutes ago. It was certainly time to get a new one.

'Gonna be late, girl," she murmured. "Better get that ass in gear." She hoisted her toolbox and quickened her pace.

As one of NASA's resident ground mechanics, it was Denise's job to ensure the test flights would take off without a hitch. It was a tough job, but the pay was good, and the hours weren't too stressful.

Dressed in light blue, perennially oil-stained coveralls, brown timberland boots, and a dark blue cap over her black hair that she'd playfully tilted to one side, Denise stepped quickly past the brick-and-mortar buildings. Needing a shortcut to save time, she kept to the quieter areas of the complex, closer to some of the trailer offices than the larger constructs.

"Excuse me, miss."

The voice belonged to a tall blonde woman in security uniform, standing in the doorway of one of the trailers. She was beckoning to the mechanic.

Denise approached in confusion. "Is something wrong, officer?" she asked. "I'm kind of running late..."

"This won't take long," the guard promised. "We've begun conducting random ID checks of employees around the premises... It's our way of combating the recent spate of infiltrations and replacements that have occurred at NASA over the last few months."

Denise had heard rumors of certain infiltrations at the facility in the past, but had dismissed them as nonsense. The idea of employees getting tied up and replaced seemed ridiculous.

Nevertheless, she decided to humor the guard, and stepped toward the trailer.

The air-conditioner was on full blast, a fact that Denise was thankful for. At the desk sat a tall dark-haired woman, typing away at a laptop. She wore a white shirt beneath a grey peplum jacket, a matching pencil skirt, tan tights, and dark slingback high heels.

"I've got my ID papers in my left pocket, officer," Denise said, reaching in to retrieve them. "But you don't need to worry about me. I can't imagine why anyone would want to steal this old uniform." She chuckled at the idea.

Her chuckle faded when she heard a clicking noise behind her.

Denise turned to see the security guard pointing a gun at her head.

"Oh," the guard smiled, shutting the door with her foot. "I can think of a few reasons."

Denise dropped her toolbox in shock. It landed with a thud.

"Wh... what's going on..."

"Just a good old-fashioned mugging, dearest," Lucinda laughed. "Well... not very old-fashioned. You can keep your cash and jewelry, if you have any... All we're really after is your uniform."

"My... what?" Denise gasped.

"She wants your uniform," Meredith stated, without glancing up from her computer. "You strip down to your underwear, she ties you up and tosses you in a closet, then she puts on your clothes and impersonates you. Nothing too complicated."

Lucinda smiled. "You always summarize things so eloquently, dear."

Meredith returned the smile. "Thanks, honey."

Denise could tell that, despite their glib and bantering tone, these women were serious in their demand. Hands shaking, she bent down and began slowly unlacing her boots.

"Tick-tock, honey," Lucinda urged.

Denise quickened her pace. She stepped out of her boots, then unbuttoned her coveralls and let them drop to the floor. This left her trembling in a pink push-up bra covered in small green hearts and some high-waist electric-blue panties. "Pl... please don't kill me..."

"You'll live," Lucinda replied, though the cold tone of her voice did not sound very reassuring. "Sweetie, throw me that rubber hosing."

Meredith tossed a coil of thin but durable blue wiring to her wife.

"Arms behind your back, pretty girl," Lucinda smiled. "That's it... You're doing great."

Denise tried to hold back tears as she felt her wrists tightly bound above her ass, and her ankles secured likewise. She kept her mouth shut as her captor smoothed a piece of tape over her lips.

"Perfect!" Lucinda smiled. "Are you sure this is your first time getting your uniform stolen, honey? You played the part so well."

Meredith laughed. "She did what you asked, honey. No need to taunt her."

"Yes, get a move on," Dr. Chen said tersely, emerging from the adjoining room. "I see that you girls enjoy mocking the women you mug, but try to remember we're here on important business. Please keep things professional."

"Sorry, boss," Lucinda nodded. "Let me get Lady Fix-It out of sight."

She opened the closet door. Denise's eyebrows raised. On the floor of the closet sat an unconscious woman with shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair, clad in nothing but a purple underwire bra and beige control briefs. She was also secured with blue tubing and gagged with silver tape.

Lucinda dropped Denise on the floor beside the other woman. "Say hi to your new playmate," she chuckled, shutting the door.

Then she turned back to Dr. Chen. "Sorry about that... I can't resist having a little fun on the job."

"Well, try to resist," Dr. Chen said dryly. "Put her uniform on. People are probably already wondering why she's late."

Lucinda nodded, and began changing out of her guard uniform.

"I don't see why I needed to mug someone for a new disguise," Meredith complained. "And a secretary? How demeaning." She wrinkled her nose, remembering her own days working as a lowly secretary in the corporate world.

"We needed a computer that could access the NASA's highly secure mainframe," Chen explained. "And anyone peeking through the window might be wondering why a security guard was working at a desk. So you had to take the secretary's clothes as well."

Meredith nodded, though she suspected that wasn't the only reason. Dr. Chen probably didn't trust her to carry around a gun, and wanted her out of the security uniform and into something more harmless quickly.

By this point, Lucinda had fully changed into the mechanic's uniform. "All set, boss."

"Then let's move. Meredith, stay here and keep contact with radio."

Meredith nodded sourly.

Lucinda approached her. "Don't worry, hon. I'll be careful. I promise." She kissed her. "See you soon."

Meredith smiled back. "Yes... very soon."

Dr. Chen watched, irritated. These two women clearly loved each other... and Chen had no time for love. It could be dangerous to the mission.

Perhaps Meredith and Lucinda were not the most reliable henchwomen after all...

******************

Adelaide blew the whistle.

"Twenty-minute break," she announced to the color guard teams. "Be back for the second round of competition at 11 AM sharp."

The color guard girls relaxed. Most of them began chatting with one another, or tapping away at their phones. A few of them headed for the exit, hoping to stretch their legs for a few minutes.

But one girl stood to one side, watching Adelaide step off the field, toward the showers and ladies' room.

Farah smiled. Now was her chance.

Joanna caught Adelaide's eye and nodded approvingly. Adelaide nodded back, just enough so that no one else would notice. Then she disappeared through the stadium doors.

Joanna was grinning from ear to ear. She could practically taste her team's victory. True, it would be a victory attained through cheating and duplicity, but Joanna didn't care. She cared about the fame... the sponsorships... the money. A win was worth it, by any means necessary.

Preoccupied as she was, Joanna did not notice one of the Maple girls follow Adelaide through the doorway.

Farah at first kept a distance behind the fake referee. Then, one she'd ensured that no one else was around, she swiftly closed the gap.

The ladies' room was closed for cleaning, but Adelaide didn't have the patience to find another one. Besides, the referee uniform she'd stolen came with an all-access key. She unlocked the door and headed for the nearest sink. Humming softly, she began to rinse her face and hands.

All of the sudden, the door clicked shut. Adelaide heard a low, malicious laugh.

"So we meet again."

Adelaide looked up to see a young woman of about twenty years, dressed in a bright orange leotard. Her arms were folded across her chest, and a cruel grin was spread across her face.

"I swore I'd get my revenge," Farah said coldly. "You're going to pay for humiliating me."

"Right," Adelaide nodded. "One question: Have we met before?"

Farah sighed. "Typical American. Can never remember the details." She stepped closer. "I'm Farah Fayad. If you don't recognize me, I blame the wardrobe. We met a few weeks ago... I was dressed as a truck driver... You were disguised as an airplane pilot."

Adelaide nodded slowly. "Yes... yes, I remember. That cute blonde aviatrix. I quite liked her uniform."

"Never mind her," Farah bristled. "You held me at gunpoint... Robbed me of my valued cargo..."

"The handball team?" Adelaide asked. "That's what this is about?"

"Damned right," Farah scowled. She cracked her knuckles. "And now you're gonna be sorry."

Adelaide laughed. "Kid, I'm in middle of a job. I can't be bothered by... Oouuggghh!"

Farah lurched forward and punched Adelaide in the stomach. The young woman was stronger - and faster - than she looked.

Adelaide tried to counter with a judo chop, but Farah blocked it. She grabbed Adelaide's arm and flipped the taller woman onto her back.

Adelaide hit the tiled floor and lay dazed. Farah grinned.

"You won't stop me this time, sweets. I'm going to kidnap every color guard girl at this tournament... Sell them to some rich Arabs... Become wealthy beyond my wildest dreams." She laughed. "And I'm going to get my revenge on you as well."

She raised her foot, preparing to stomp on the aching Adelaide's face.

"No... Please..." Adelaide had no fight left in her.

At that moment, the restroom door swung open. Two women in catering uniforms stepped in, one holding a small electronic device.

"According to my radiation detector," she was saying, "the bomb should be somewhere in..."

She looked up at the sight of the two women in the restroom. Then she looked closer at the woman in the orange leotard and gasped.

"Farah?" she asked.

Farah's eyes widened. She stepped away from Adelaide. "K... Karima?"

There was a log moment of silence, and then the two women hugged.

******************

"Girls, please," Toshiko said, a note of panic in her voice. "I... I can explain."

"Explain?" Cassandra glared at her. She was now pointing a gun at the trembling woman. "Explain what? That you're a backstabbing, traitorous bitch?"

"Please," Toshiko said. "I... I didn't mean to... Sloane was awful! She was a toxic boss. You remember that!"

"You're an even more toxic boss," Cassandra said tersely. "I never liked you, Toshi. Always lecturing me about my cigarettes... Acting like you'e the team's mother. I didn't know how malicious you were." She stepped closer. "I should put a bullet in your head right now."

Toshiko wanted to protest, but she didn't know what to say. Cassandra wasn't wrong about her. She was a traitor - and a liability to everyone around her.

She slumped her head. "Maybe... maybe you should."

"Glad we finally agree," Cassandra snarled.

"Cass, wait!" Marina spoke up. "Don't... don't hurt her."

"Why not?" Cassandra snapped. Her eyes remained fixed on the sorrowful Toshiko. "She admits to killing Sloane. She deserves to die."

"Maybe she's a killer... but you're not," Marina stated. "I know you, Cass. Maybe you think I'm just the funny, quippy girl of the team, but I've gotten to know you over these last few years, and you... you wouldn't do something like this. You can't."

Cassandra kept the gun trained on Toshiko, but said nothing.

"Besides," Marina continued, "Sloane wasn't exactly the greatest boss to you, either. Remember when you were tied up and had your clothes stolen? Sloane just left you behind. Said it would be a lesson for you."

Cassandra bit her lip. Then she lowered her gun.

Toshiko looked up. "Cass, I... I'm so sorr..."

"Shut the hell up," Cassandra said. "Marina, we're leaving."

"We are?"

"We're leaving, and we're not coming back," Cassandra continued. "This team is over. Done. Kaput. Pack a bag."

"But..." Marina looked around. "Where will we go?"

"Somewhere else," Cassandra replied. "Like I said, pack a bag."

Marina nodded silently. The two women headed for their rooms to collect their things.

Ten minutes later, they left, without another word to their former boss.

Toshiko slumped back in her chair and began crying. She hated herself... hated every life choice she had made.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. See looked up to see a sympathetically smiling Atsuko. An apprehensive Carolyn stood behind her.

"Hey, sis," Atsuko said. "Dry those tears. Don't think of this as a bad thing... Think of it as a chance to start over."

On the floor, Willa groaned. She was starting to wake up.

Atsuko sighed. "Although we should probably deal with her first."

Toshiko wiped her eyes and smiled.

********************

The FBI van pulled up about sixty yards from the stadium. It sat humming in the tall bushes.

"Okay, ladies." Bridget shut off the engine. "Karima is somewhere in that stadium. We have to split into teams. Three of us will enter through the front, three through the back. We search until we find her."

"Roger that!" Felicia smiled.

"Okay..." Bridget considered. "So who goes with me? Prema? Bobbi?"

"Actually," Bobbi spoke up. "I'd like to go with Felicia." She smiled at her friend. "And... Zuhal. Just to keep an eye on her."

Zuhal grinned. "Fine with me."

Bridget hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay... Moira, Prema, you're with me. Good luck, ladies."

The two teams exited the van and went their separate ways.

Bobbi, Felicia, and Zuhal circled around to the front of the stadium, crouching behind the hedges.

"So what's the plan?" Zuhal asked. "Apart from... keep an eye on me?" She laughed.

"Shhh! Not so loud." Bobbi peeked through the bushes. "That's odd... no security guards. You'd think they would have a few of them by the front entrance."

Some rustling noises, and faint whimpers, caught Zuhal's ears. She approached some of the taller hedges and looked over them.

"Looks like the guards were unexpectedly detained," she chuckled.

Felicia and Bobbi looked at the underwear-clad blonde and redhead who were currently gagged and bound behind the bushes.

Bobbi sighed. "Is there a single security guard in this town who is able to do her job without getting her uniform stolen?"

"If so, I haven't met her," Zuhal smiled.

"I'm confused," Felicia sad, inspecting the guards. "These two are much taller than Karima. She couldn't have taken their uniforms... so who did?"

"Who cares?" Zuhal beckoned the girls to the entrance. "Let's just get inside while the coast is clear."

Luck was with them, as the front lobby was empty. Everyone was at the center of the stadium, watching the tournament. The trio stepped down a side hall which led to the locker rooms.

"So far, so good," Bobbi noted. "But we won't exactly blend in with these outfits. I think a change in wardrobe is necessary."

Footsteps. The three women exchanged a glance.

"Hide!" Bobbi whispered.

She and Felicia ducked into a nearby broom closet. Zuhal slipped into a small bathroom just across the hall.

A color guard girl stepped down the hall, dressed in the pink leotard of the Tampa Tigresses. She was tall and thin, with dark skin and brown hair tied back into a ponytail.

Bobbi prepared to reach out and pull the girl into the closet. But instead, the Tigress stepped into the restroom, humming to herself. She shut the door.

Felicia and Bobbi exchanged a glance. Then they heard the voice behind the bathroom door. "Hey, who are you? This bathroom is for athletes only... Hey, let go! What the hell...?" Some crashing sounds, muted by the thick metal door. "Help, someone! Please h..." A quick thud. Silence.

A grinning Zuhal stuck her head out the bathroom door and gave a thumbs-up. Then she shut the door to give herself and the Tigress some privacy.

Felicia blinked. "Zuhal doesn't mess around, does she?"

Bobbi shrugged. "Quiet, I hear voices..."

Two girls in dark blue leotards stepped into the hall, chatting with one another. The first was fair-skinned, her blonde hair cut short into a bob. The second was tan-skinned, her black hair done into plaited pigtails.

Bobbi grinned. "Jackpot."

"But the bet..."

"Don't worry your pretty head... I'll take care of them both. You deserve a break."

As the two Opals passed by the closet, Bobbi reached out, grabbed their heads, and knocked them together. The brunette was kayoed immediately; Bobbi gripped the dazed blonde in a tight sleeper hold as she dragged the both of them back in the closet.

Within moments, the blonde was unconscious as well, and Bobbi let both girls slide to the floor. "We've got a sale today," she smiled. "Two knockouts for the price of one."

Felicia winced. "Those two are going to have some bad migraines when they wake up."

Bobbi shrugged. "Better them than us. Come on, strip Miss Pigtails... she looks about your size."

Before long, the two Opals were down to their dark blue sports bras and high-waist panties. Felicia and Bobbi used some materials from the closet - white rubber tubing and semi-translucent green duct tape - to keep them quiet and secured, back-to-back, on the cold closet floor.

Bobbi and Felicia slipped into the skintight leotards, which fit fairly well. Felicia did find the outfit to be naturally constricting, however.

"How do these girls compete in these uniforms?" she wondered.

"They should get a trophy just for wearing them," Bobbi agreed. "Now let's move."

By this point, Zuhal had changed into her own leotard. Though she was not particularly a fan of pink, the outfit was certainly less conspicuous than the FBI uniform.

She smiled at the uniform's original owner. "And rather pretty, isn't it?"

The girl could not respond - being that she was currently seated on the toilet in her neon pink sports bra and hiphuggers, bound with rope from the weapons belt and gagged with liberal amounts of toilet paper. She was still unconscious, her chest rising and falling with each quiet breath.

Zuhal leaned over and kissed the girl on the forehead, leaving a small lipstick mark. "Always good to sign my work," she giggled, before exiting the restroom and shutting the door.

Hanging an "Out of Order" sign on the doorway, Zuhal turned to see Bobbi and Felicia exiting the closet.

"Don't you two look lovely! Wish I had my camera."

Felicia gave her an odd look. "You are having way too much fun."

Zuhal shrugged. "Your friend seems to be enjoying herself as well."

Bobbi ignored her. "Come on, let's not waste more time. Karima has to be somewhere in the area..."

*****************

Lucinda cautiously made her way to the launching field at the west end of the NASA base.

No one tried to stop her. After all, she was dressed in a mechanic's uniform and cap, and holding a large metal toolbox. She had even remembered to apply a little grease stain to her cheek, to complete the effect.

"You're late," the man on the landing deck said. "Supposed to be here ten minutes ago."

"Terribly sorry," Lucinda replied. "Had a bit of trouble finding a clean outfit this morning... had to settle for this."

The man rolled his eyes. "Women," he muttered. "Just give the plane one last check and okay it for takeoff."

Lucinda smiled as she headed for the tarmac. Men were even easier to fool than women - just bring up some female-specific problem and they let you by without further questions.

The space-plane sat on the tarmac, ready to launch. It was a newer, improved version of the plane that had launched - and been hijacked - a few months earlier. Lucinda had read about it in the news at the time, but hadn't thought much of it. Looking at the spacecraft now, however, it was certainly impressive. The metallic shuttle was long and sleek, polished white to a shine. It stood, wings spread, ready for its next orbital takeoff.

Still, now was not the time for sightseeing. Lucinda had a job. Not the job of poor Denise; rather, the one commissioned by Dr. Chen.

Lucinda climbed up to the plane engine and pretended to inspect it. In reality, she had retrieved a small metal cylinder from her toolbox - a cylinder she had stolen from the weapons room of the island. She grinned as she quietly tucked the device into the depths of the plane's engines.

Then she slid down the ladder and stepped away. "Cleared for takeoff," she said, just the hint of a smile on her lips.

**********************

Bridget, Moira, and Prema moved softly through the bushes as they made their way to the stadium parking lot. The only sounds were that of the occasional twig crunching beneath a powerful boot.

Bridget glanced through the hedges. She trained a pair of binoculars on the rear doors of the stadium.

"Security guards... several of them. Gonna be tough to get inside."

"Oh, well," Prema shrugged and turned to go. "It was a nice try... Let's head home."

Moira grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "What's the rush, gal? You're not afraid, are you?"

Prema let out a nervous chuckle. "Of... course not. But Bridget said there was no way inside. We shouldn't risk it."

"Oh, yes we should." Bridget trained her binoculars on the far end of the parking lot. "And I think I just found our ticket in."

The post-game banquet had been well-planned, with a catering service commissioned and several delectable foods delivered onsite. The stadium heads had also hired some musicians for orchestral accompaniment. So it was that a sleek black sedan pulled into the parking lot and rolled to a stop not far from the trio's hiding place.

From the sedan emerged three women, in black suits with coattails, crisp white shirts, white bowties, white satin gloves, and polished black loafers. Each carried her own musical instrument. The cellist was tall and broad-shouldered, with pale skin and straight dark hair that formed a V-shape at her back. The violinist was slightly shorter, with a cherubic face, light skin and short ginger curls. The flutist was about the same height and build as the violinist, with angular features, tanned skin and her chestnut-brown hair in a bun.

Bridget turned to her two friends, a mischievous grin on her face. "You girls ever want to join the band?"

Moira smiled as well. Prema looked nervous. "You're... not going to hurt them, are you?"

"Of course not," Bridget assured her. "Like I said, we're the good guys. And that means we try to mug innocent civilians as gently as possible."

"How reassuring," Prema muttered.

Moira looked over the hedges. "If you think about it, we'l be doing the ladies a favor. It's a hot day, and it can't be comfortable strutting around in full suits like that."

"Hot day... that gives me an idea," Bridget said thoughtfully.

She poked her head out from the bushes and beckoned to the three women. "Good day, ladies... Would you care for some liquid refreshments before you go onstage? There's a shortcut here to the nearest vending machines."

The cellist glanced at her watch. "Awfully kind of you, ma'am, but we're running late... Need to get our instruments set up, and..."

"They have ice-cold lemonade," Bridget offered. "Energy drinks, cream soda..."

"Come on, Octavia," the violinist urged. "We could use some drinks before going onstage. Harmony definitely needs to wet her whistle before performing." The flutist nodded in agreement.

The cellist sighed. "Okay, girls. But let's not take longer than a few minutes."

The three women stepped into the bushes. "Okay, show us the... ooollpp!" The violinist was startled as Bridget grabbed her collar and pulled her downwards, out of sight.

"Melody, what..?" The cellist and flutist barely had time to react before Moira jumped them from behind. They both fell to the ground.

Bridget put Melody in a sleeper hold, trying to contain the struggling woman. "Try not to get their clothes dirty or grass-stained... We need the suits to look pristine when we wear them."

As Moira grappled with the Octavia, the flutist rolled out from under her. "Wear our suits?" she gasped. "What the hell are you... uurrghhh!"

She clutched at the hand which suddenly covered her mouth.

"Shhh... please be quiet," Prema begged, trying to hold the woman. "I don't want to hurt you. Just... aagh!"

She jerked her hand back. Harmony had bitten it. "That hurt!"

Harmony opened her mouth to scream. Fortunately, Bridget had by now put Melody out of commission and was able to shut the flutist's jaw with a swift right hook. The woman crumpled to the ground.

"Sorry for that bit of unladylike violence," Bridget smiled softly at Prema. "But we can't risk anyone blowing our cover."

"Easy does it... There you go, sweetheart." Moira let out a sigh of relief as the violinist finally slipped into unconsciousness. "She was a feisty one."

Prema rubbed her hand. "What now?"

"Now we buy these ladies some sodas for when they wake up," Moira stated.

"We... are you joking?"

"Of course I'm joking," Moira said dryly. "Now we put on their clothes. What did you think?"

"Moira," Bridget said sternly. "Prema is still pretty new to the whole uniform-stealing business. No need to be rude."

Moira rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother."

But she focused on her work as the three women stripped the musicians of their outfits.

Minutes later, Bridget, Moira, and Prema were buttoning up the crisp white shirts, smoothing down the dark suits, and stepping into the polished black shoes of the musical troupe. The white satin gloves made for a minor but professional detail, as did the bow ties.

Bridget saw Prema struggling with her bow tie. "Need some help?"

"Er... I suppose. Never worn one of these before."

Bridget helped her tie it at the collar. "Never seen you in a suit before, Ms. Khatri. You look quite handsome."

Prema wrinkled her nose. "Are you... flirting with me?"

"No!" Bridget tried to smile. "I'm just giving you a compliment."

"It sounded like you were flirting. For the record, even if I was interested in women - which I'm not - I certainly wouldn't waste any time on you."

Bridget felt herself getting irritated, but forced herself to stay calm. "I wasn't flirting. You should learn to take a compliment."

"Hmph." Prema straightened her bow tie against her collar.

She glanced over at the three musicians, all of whom had been gagged with cloths and bound with durable wiring. Octavia was down to a white full-cup bra with zigzagging blue stripes and lavender bikini panties with a heart-encrusted bow. Melody was clad in a lemon-hued T-shirt bra and light red control briefs. Harmony had the most interesting underwear of the three - a light blue set of bikini bra and panties, decorated with patterns of musical notes. ("Guess music really does soothe the savage breast," Moira had quipped while stripping her.)

"They... they'll be okay, right?" Prema asked.

"Of course they will," Bridget replied. "And depending on how well we play their instruments, they might even get paid for this gig."

"Just so long as I don't have to perform," Moira remarked, hoisting the cello beneath in one arm. "There's a reason I majored in journalism instead of music."

"Well, we won't spend too much time playing." Bridget picked up the violin. "Not when there's a dangerous criminal to catch. Ready, girls?"

Moira nodded. Prema did as well, though there was a look of trepidation in her eyes.

Bridget stepped out of the bushes, advancing toward the stadium. "Karima, here we come."

*******************

It took less than sixty seconds for Sabira to locate the bomb and defuse it.

But it took nearly that amount of time for her to process the figurative bomb that had been dropped in her lap.

She looked back and forth, from one woman to the other. "So... you two know each other?"

"What gave it away?" Farah said dryly.

"Sabira, this girl is my cousin," Karima explained. "She was... my close friend for many years. I took care of her... I was like a big sister. But she... she ran away."

"I left," Farah admitted. "Because I was scared... Scared of what you were becoming. I ran away, but... fell in with a tough crowd. I learned how to fight... how to be stealthy... and eventually I got a job."

"A... job?" Karima looked bewildered.

Farah nodded. "I kidnap young women and sell them for great profit," she explained. "I've been doing it for only two years... but I'm already one of the most prolific and successful workers in the field."

"Farah, that's..." Karima looked at her, wide-eyed. Then she embraced her cousin again. "That's amazing! I'm so proud of you."

Behind the two women, Adelaide slowly staggered to her feet. Her eyes darted to the door... but Sabira was in the way.

Karima looked at Adelaide strangely. "What is the referee doing here?"

"What? I'm not..." Adelaide glanced at her uniform. "Oh, this is just a disguise. The real referee is tied up in her office."

"Who are you?" Karima asked suspiciously.

Adelaide managed a smile. "I..."

"She's a cold bitch," Farah interrupted. "I came here to make her pay for the time she stole from me. I kidnapped those handball girls fair and square."

Adelaide shrugged. "Technically, I kidnapped them first."

"Ladies, ladies," a voice came from the door. "Can we save the contests for later?"

The four women turned to see a pair of young women in dark blue leotards standing in the doorway.

Karima's eyes bulged. "No... Not you two brats..."

"It's us," Bobbi smiled.

"I... You're dead!" Karima stared in shock.

Felicia looked herself over. "Really? That's news to us..."

"You're supposed to be... I killed you! How the hell...?"

"Reports have been greatly exaggerated," Felicia chortled. "And now we're going to kick your asses."

Bobbi looked around the room. "I count four asses, Licia. Two of which I don't recognize." She smiled. "Which ones are we planning to kick?"

"How about... none?"

Bobbi and Felicia turned to see Zuhal smiling at them. They gasped. Zuhal was holding a pair of guns, pointed directly at their chests.

"Hands up, girls," Zuhal grinned.