Trackman: I did want to take advantage of the SWAT uniforms and their weapons/gadgets in the climax. I like it when the uniforms stolen can be utilized as more than just disguises.
The climax was also a good place to ramp up the tension and restore the group dynamic between Bridget, Bobbi, and Felicia. These three work well together under pressure, even if their relationships have weathered some cracks recently.
Bobbi's evolution has been great fun to chart. I planned out a lot of her developments years ago (during the first two volumes) and it's been great to let these developments come to fruition. She's certainly one of the most popular characters I've ever written.
Her scenes with Felicia were also quite important to both characters. Felicia has changed a lot as well in recent volumes, and I wanted to draw a clear contrast between her and Bobbi. Their friendship has been steady for a while, but clearly rifts have been forming.
The dissolution of Sloane's team over these last few stories was also coordinated and deliberate. I wanted to introduce a team of ruthless, professional female villains and have them slowly break apart due to internal tensions and hubris. Many of these villains enact their own downfall (including Cassandra when she can't resist a cigarette), which is a great way to show their human side.
Poor Ashley - perhaps she's gone a bit crazy, or perhaps she's more cogent than ever. In any case, I couldn't leave this chapter without letting Marina recite a few more cheesy jokes.
The final confrontation was tough to write, so I'm glad you found it good and suspenseful. I purposely left Chen's ending ambiguous, though this would certainly be a fitting end for her.
I certainly appreciate the time you take in carefully reading each chapter. It takes a lot of time and effort to write so many characters and give them all distinctive personalities and arcs, so thanks a lot for all your feedback.
Esercito: No worries about late comments. These are long chapters and sometimes people get busy.
Ashley's scene was incredibly fun to write. I wanted to do something different for her character that would leave an impression, and I think it worked (even if she comes off as perhaps a bit psycho ).
Rufus: It was important that the climax put suspense and danger at the forefront, and keep the uniform thefts secondary for this chapter. The main focus here was on showing the heroines come from behind and finally best the villains, after several chapters of being forced into silent obedience.
The reunion between Bobbi and her friends was long overdue - but as you may suspect, some tensions will linger. Felicia knows that - whether or not Bobbi's "fourteen hours" comment is a joke - something has changed between her and her friend. How she responds to that change remains to be seen.
The mirroring of Felicia and Bobbi's character arcs was indeed deliberate. We started the series with Felicia very enthusiastic about uniform thefts and Bobbi resistant to them, and they've pretty much switched sides by now. This was planned years ago - I wanted these women to mature and develop beyond their initial personas, and it's been fun letting them grow in these new and initially unexpected ways.
The Marina/Whitey/Cassandra scene was another important addition, because even during the suspenseful climax, I didn't want the villains to come off as truly heartless. They have their own problems to deal with, even if they deal with them in different ways than the heroines.
I understand your point about Bridget, but I don't see her reaction to Bobbi as being out of character. Bridget has had a very stressful night, and needs someone's shoulder to lean on, and Bobbi is the one willing to listen, so Bridget is easily receptive to her praise. Bridget also doesn't know Bobbi quite as well as Felicia does, so she's not as privy to the dark turn that Bobbi has taken. That does mean that Bridget may be more influenced by Bobbi's personality - we'll see if that leads anywhere.
Ashley's anticlimax was a way of giving her character a new development that had not been used for other characters before. I didn't want her to embrace the "paradigm" as easily as some of the other USB victims-turned-muggers in the past. So I gave her a story arc with an unexpected finale. Still, I don't want her character arc to feel like it was for naught. Rest assured, we will see Ashley again. Her arc is not yet finished.
The FBI were certainly not the most admirable in this story. I did enjoy writing them, however, and I liked spotlighting Josie's self-centeredness at the end (she wants credit, above all else). They're hardly heroic, but I tried to give them a distinguishing arc on their own.
Chen's arrogance once again proved to be her greatest weakness. She may or may not have survived the fall, but she was great to write for the last several volumes. A good villain, but you're right about there being too much of a good thing.
The epilogue will hopefully be posted next week. After that... well, we'll see where it goes.
I understand your point about Bridget, but I don't see her reaction to Bobbi as being out of character.
I think I wasn't very clear in my comment. I didn't mean that it felt out of character, more that I personally regretted that the beginning of her character development took a step backwards. But I'm talking here about personal appreciation, not about quality of writing or of characterization. Given Bridget's personality, her reaction is natural. It didn't feel as an out of character moment. Same with Bobbi's character development: her evolution is well-written and coherent with her personality, I'm simply personally finding her more and more unlikable, but that's personal taste. Luckily, the epilogue is coming soon, and with it a more general review so I'll take advantage of it to better make my point and to better distinguish the quality of the writing style and what are my very subjective personal thoughts about some characters.
Ah, I understand. I'm glad to hear you appreciate the writing quality, even if the characters aren't always particularly likable. Of course, I don't want them to be unlikable, but I also want their characterizations to feel logical and consistent, which helps make their actions understandable.
I look forward to hearing your full thoughts once the epilogue is posted.
I like it when the uniforms stolen can be utilized as more than just disguises.
Really, hhmmm.
Bobbi's evolution has been great fun to chart. I planned out a lot of her developments years ago (during the first two volumes) and it's been great to let these developments come to fruition.
Wow, honestly your patience meter is unlike anything the world has ever seen. I wouldn't be able to wait that long, but that's just me, I'm always too eager. Between this and you abilities to constantly hunt down new USB scenes.. ..... You have a power that some of us can only ever dream of having.
Bobbi as a whole is truly one of the best characters that you've ever written. But of course the character is only as good as the author who writes them. Which furhur more, just proves just how legendary your skills as a writer are. For instance.... Bobbi's evolution from when we first met her, everything she endured after that, she made some mistakes along the way, but this is natural during any characters growth, it helps them learn and become more sympathetic, now here she is, exchanging bullets in a gun fight with a professional such as Cassandra. My god how she's grown and evolved over the years. When you actually properly sit down and think of just how far Bobbi's come. It's truly astonishing and absolutely amazing.
With the finale / ending seemingly looming on the horizon, I honestly can't help but wonder where your stories will take us next. Either way, I'll be tagging along for the ride that's for sure.
Well, I would have liked to tell these stories a little faster, but unfortunately I don't always have enough time to write them. I'm amazed by how quickly you and Rufus are able to post new chapters so often; I would love to post at that level. Alas... Developing these stories and parsing them out takes time, so I can only hope it's worth the wait.
Bobbi's development has become a linchpin of the series, which is interesting, because back when i started writing Volume 1, it was intended only to be a single story (no sequels) and it was mostly going to focus on Bridget and Felicia. Bobbi wasn't supposed to play a major role, but she got sucked into the action and I quite enjoyed writing for her. Then, while writing Volume 2, I began planning out future stories and future developments for her character - and by extension, for Felicia and Bridget. I wanted these characters to grow and evolve, but slowly, and some more noticeably and markedly than others.
Though Volume 5 is intended to resolve several of the key story arcs, I don't intend it to be the last story set in this universe. I've begun drafting ideas for spinoff stories (similar to "Sisters in Arms") and planning ahead for potential future volumes. That's why I'm so grateful for all the feedback - it's encouraged me to develop the idea from a single story into an ongoing USB saga. I've grown to love these characters too much to stop writing them now, and their stories are far from over.
Well, that's all you needed to say, because I must admit here, I was bracing myself for the worst, because I know that the next part will be the "Epilogue", so I genuinely thought this would be the last time we'd see these amazing characters of yours and I'm not going to lie, that was actually a little bit of a depressing thought. But now I know you have further idea's for future instalments and other volumes, then heck yeah, sign me up!
I've grown to love these characters too much to stop writing them now
First, apologies for the delay in getting this final chapter posted. I was hoping to do it earlier, but couldn't quite find the time. Still, I made a push to have the story finished by the end of July. So without further ado, the epilogue:
Bridget and Felicia exchanged stories with Moira and Prema during the drive back to town. The women were all a bit shaken by their experience, but it felt good to talk things over.
"God, I have to get back to the office," Prema fretted. "Nita might still be tied up! Poor thing, she doesn't deserve that..."
"That's what I like about you, Prema," Moira observed. "Even when you've just come out of danger, you're thinking about the safety of others."
Prema blushed slightly. "Thanks..." She was quite pleased at the smile Moira gave her.
"Hey, Prem," Felicia said from the back seat. "Guess what? I did it. I went two whole weeks without mugging any women for their uniforms."
Prema rolled her eyes. "How nice for you."
Bridget patted Felicia on the shoulder. "Great job, honey. But... does this mean you're ending your hiatus?"
Felicia shrugged. "I guess... But I have to admit, this little bet has helped me figure some things about myself... Showed me that there are other methods of infiltration and disguise. I'm sure I'll keep on mugging other women when I need their uniforms... but it's the kind of tactic that's best practiced in moderation." She glanced in Bobbi's direction. "Right?"
Bobbi had been mostly silent during the drive home, but looked up as Felicia glanced her way. "Huh?... Oh, um... right."
Felicia eyed her strangely. "You seem a bit distracted, Bobbi... Anything you wanted to say?"
"Hm." Bobbi scratched her hair. She continued to stare quietly at the passing scenery and foliage.
Felicia cast a sidelong glance at Bobbi. There was no question about it... Her friend had changed. And Felicia wasn't sure if she liked the change.
"Want us to drop you guys off back at Chrysalis?" Moira asked.
Bridget shook her head. "Everyone's probably gone home by now," she said. "Just take us home. I'll sort everything out with the press in the morning. Besides, I probably shouldn't show myself in public wearing a twice-stolen SWAT uniform..."
Prema sighed in exasperation.
"What's wrong?" Bridget asked.
"We're all wearing stolen clothes," Prema said. "You girls in the back are wearing the SWAT uniforms, and Moira and I are wearing outfits we stole off a pair of poor college girls."
"Rude college girls," Moira corrected.
"I'm just... worried by what the world is becoming," Prema continued. "Stories of women getting mugged for their wardrobe are becoming so frequent... I hate that I've been contributing to the problem."
"Haven't they always been frequent?" Felicia asked.
"It's certainly become more common over the last five or ten years," Bridget noted. "I think the rise in technology has made security systems more advanced and infallible - nowadays, the best way to bypass these systems is to dress like you belong in the place you're infiltrating."
Moira nodded. "And women have really moved up the career ladder in recent years," she added. "Police officers, security guards, factory workers... We're making great strides. And that means there are plenty more uniforms available for the taking."
Prema sighed. "Forget I asked."
Moira smiled at her. "It's okay, really... I understand. Infiltration and disguise isn't for everyone. You don't need to feel bad about it."
Prema smiled back. "Thanks... I just feel a little overwhelmed, is all."
"I think we've all had an overwhelming night," Bridget noted. "Thankfully, everything seems to be settling down..."
*******************
Meredith yawned and glanced at her watch. "Goodness, it's late."
"Should've grabbed a cup of coffee before coming here," Lucinda observed.
Meredith laughed. "I've been trying to cut down on the caffeine. Just had a busy night, is all."
"I'll bet," Lucinda smiled. "But I've got a good feeling about tomorrow."
The two women had made their way to the docks of Port Tampa, and had concealed themselves behind a large stack of cinderblocks. They watched as ships came into port, as dockworkers loaded and unloaded cargo, as the night breeze blew in from the dark sea.
Lucinda squinted as she gazed along the docks. "There."
"What?"
Lucinda pointed to a small tugboat anchored all the way at the other end of the docks. Though some distance away, the women could make out the name scrawled on its side - "The Fishnet."
"Nice name for a boat," Meredith said dryly.
"I think it's cute," Lucinda smiled. "Reminds me of the stockings you used to wear when we first started dating... Very sexy, as I recall..." She got a glazed look in her eyes.
Meredith gave her a nudge. "We can fantasize about the past later, honey... You're sure you want that boat?"
"Sure... It's small, but looks efficient... No one will notice it if it's gone. You'd rather steal one of these massive cargo ships?"
"No, of course not." Meredith glanced at the boat again. "Okay, so we'll grab that one and set sail... But first, we should find a way to blend in."
Lucinda glanced in the other direction. "I believe I see a couple of fine ladies who can help us."
The ladies in question were a pair of longshorewomen, sharing a smoke at the corner of the pier. They had found a quiet spot away from the rest of the workers and were enjoying a brief respite from the midnight shift.
"Cold night, isn't it?" one of the women observed. She was tall and fit, with tanned skin and short greasy black hair. She wore a thick olive sweater and grey slacks, plus a dark grey woolen cap over her hair. The legs of her pants were tucked into a pair of brown Timberland boots.
"It's always a cold night," the second woman chuckled. She was about the same size as her friend, albeit a bit thinner, with light skin and copper-red hair in a bowl cut. She wore a dark blue sweater and black cargo pants, a dark green ivy cap, and light brown ankle boots.
"This is craziness, Riley," the dark-haired woman chuckled. "We live in one of the warmest spots in the country - yet we work by the sea, in the dead of night." She tossed her cigarette into the water. "What I wouldn't give to spend all my time at the beach."
"The beach is also cold at night, Brandi," the redhead laughed. "Come on, let's get back to work before the boss gives us hell."
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her cigarette into the water. Then she began walking back down the pier, her friend following behind.
"Stick around near the steamships tonight," Riley said as they walked past a large stack of cinderblocks. "They'll keep us warm."
Brandi grinned wryly and was about to remind her friend that there were no steamships on the pier. However, as she opened her mouth, it was quickly covered by a black-gloved hand. Brandi's eyebrows shot upward in surprise as she was roughly pulled into the shadows.
"Point is, it's never too cold to get the job done right," the redhead continued. She glanced around. "Brandi? Where are you?"
Hearing some muted noises behind the dock line, she quizzically looked behind the cinderblock pile. "Are you grabbing another cigarette? I thought we agreed to limit our... hhuukkk!"
It was the last sound she would utter that night, before her shoulders were grabbed and she was roughly swallowed up by the shadows.
The typical harbor sounds of clicking and clanking easily drowned out the less-familiar sounds of punching and squealing. Lucinda had never cared for the loud, noisy machinery at Dennison, but she greatly appreciated the similar machinery right now.
Nine minutes later, Meredith and Lucinda were pulling on their new attire. Meredith had chosen the brunette's clothes and boots, while Lucinda had settled for the redhead's.
The real longshorewomen were currently off-duty, stripped to their scanties while trussed up with thin nautical rope and gagged with grey kerchiefs. The brunette wore a grey shelf bra and white control briefs; the redhead had been reduced to a teal T-shirt bra and black hipsters. Both women were snug inside a stray wooden crate, their bodies pressed together to ensure the fit.
"That should keep them warm for the night," Lucinda chuckled as she hammered the crate lid shut. "Come on, we've got a boat to catch."
Meredith nodded and followed her wife out of their hiding spot and across the docks. In their new outfits, the attracted little in the way of attention.
Unfortunately, little was still too much.
"Hey!"
Meredith and Lucinda turned to see a stern-looking blonde woman, in similar attire as they. She was looking at them sternly, as if waiting for something.
As Lucinda and Meredith fumbled for a response, the woman pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "Our boat's that way, ladies."
"Er..." Lucinda started to say.
"Come on, hurry up. We're short-staffed as it is. We need all hands on deck now." She shook her head. "Honestly, the staff here is some of the laziest I've ever seen."
"But we..."
"Stop dawdling, let's go!"
Minutes later, almost before they knew what was happening, Meredith and Lucinda found themselves on the deck of a cargo ship, which then unmoored from the dock. The blonde, who appeared to be the ship's first mate, approached them.
"Get below deck, ladies. We've got a long trip, shipping all this stuff to the Bahamas." She looked them over. "You did volunteer for this job, correct?"
"Er..." Lucinda didn't know what to say.
"Certainly!" Meredith interrupted. "We're happy to help."
The first mate nodded and turned away. Lucinda whispered to Meredith. "What are we doing here? This wasn't the plan."
"I know, but... you heard what she said. This ship is heading for the Bahamas." Meredith grinned. "How's that for a romantic getaway?"
Lucinda smiled back. "Brilliant thinking, Mer."
The two women squeezed hands and stepped below deck as the ship set sail.
"Isn't this marvelous?" Meredith whispered. "The high seas, the wind at our backs, some gorgeous islands ahead..."
"It's glorious," Lucinda agreed. "I'm so glad we--"
"There you are!" A portly woman in a white cap and apron approached them. "I'm so glad they sent some help. Grab a peeler and get to work."
Lucinda blinked. "...Peeler?"
"Hurry up!" The woman pointed behind her. "Those vegetables aren't going to cut themselves."
Meredith and Lucinda looked past the woman in astonishment, at the sight of several dozen sacks of potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, and corn lying in what appeared to be a large storage room.
"We've got a lot of hungry crewmembers," the cook instructed. "Get to work."
Meredith and Lucinda exchanged a glance. This was certainly not the romantic getaway they were expecting.
"I don't believe I've ever peeled a vegetable in my life," Lucinda whispered.
Meredith laughed. "Come on, Luci. I'll show you how it's done..."
********************
Linda was not pleased.
She had plenty of reasons to be this way, of course. Her career as security chief of Rucon Steel was over. She was a fugitive from justice. And her legs still ached from the hours she had spent earlier in the day being crammed into an oil drum.
But for the moment, what annoyed Linda the most was her size.
She was sitting on a bench at MCO airport, cross-legged, pretending to read a magazine as she scanned the passerby. But after nearly twenty minutes, she was growing restless.
Her plan had been a simple one - find a flight attendant who approximated her in size, follow her somewhere quiet, then slug her and put on her uniform. It would be a perfect way to get on a plane and get out of state undetected. Unfortunately, the airline apparently insisted on only hiring smaller, petite women for the job - a setback to Linda, who was over six feet tall. Moreover, following a couple of incidents in which flight attendants had lost their uniforms to unscrupulous muggers, many of the stewardesses now travelled in pairs throughout the airport.
Frustrated and annoyed, Linda was about ready to give up. She decided to stretch her legs, and perhaps gain a sense of some of the other planes preparing to jet from the airport.
It took only a few minutes for her to reach the tarmac outdoors, and only a few more minutes to discover an opportunity. A small, private plane was being prepped for takeoff. A series of large crates was being carried onto the plane. The crates were marked "fragile" and "this side up" and more than one had the stamp of "MODS" on its side.
From that last label, Linda quickly deduced that these were museum pieces, presumably being transported to another state or country for future study. She noticed that there were a few security guards preparing to board the plane, apparently contracted by the museum to guard the expensive material.
Crouching behind a forklift, Linda watched as one of the guards stepped away from the others, apparently to answer a call on her cell phone. The woman was tall and fit, with light skin and dark blonde hair. She wore a light green button-down shirt beneath a dark green jacket, black trousers, and knee-length black boots. A green baseball cap was fitted over her hair.
Linda smiled as she watched the woman step behind some crates for privacy. This was an opportunity if ever there was one.
The guard spoke briefly into the phone, clearly a bit fatigued. "Yes, Philip, the eggs are where they always are... Top shelf of the fridge. Look, I need to work now, so I need to get off the phone." She nodded. "Yes, of course. I love you too. 'Bye."
She hung up the phone and sighed. "Husbands... honestly."
She turned around to return to the plane, and was surprised to see a smiling woman standing in her way.
"Who are you--oouughh!" The guard hadn't much time to react before Linda had tackled her to the ground.
Minutes later, Linda got to her feet again, buttoning up the security guard's uniform. She had already buckled the pants and now reached for the boots and jacket to complete the ensemble.
Lying on the ground, slumbering silently, was the real security guard, stripped to her lemon sports bra and violet hiphuggers. She was bound with tan ropes and gagged with a thick washcloth.
"Very pretty, darling," Linda mused, admiring the woman's figure. "Phillip's a lucky man."
Straightening the cap over her hair and lowering the brim over her face, she stepped out from behind the crates and approached the plane.
The passengers were getting ready to board. An older woman with short red hair glanced up from her phone as Linda approached. "Ah, you're here. Hurry up, get on the plane. We've got valuable artifacts here!"
Linda nodded and quickened her pace. However, as she neared the plane, a nearby propeller whipped up a strong gust of wind. Before Linda could react, her hat had been blown off, and skittered across the runway.
The older woman shook her head. "Honestly, you need to be careful. The..." She paused as she got a good look at Linda's face. Then she gasped. "You..."
She glanced down at her phone, scrolling through the news feed. A photo of Linda's face popped up, alongside the words "Wanted - Extremely Dangerous."
"You're that wanted woman from the news!" the woman exclaimed. "Help! Somebody help!"
"No, wait, I..."
But before Linda could complete a sentence, she was surrounded. Three other security guards aimed their guns at her.
Linda scowled as she raised her hands. Goddamn it... Should've tried to squeeze into one of those little flight attendant uniforms.
*******************
Darla was developing a cramp. She had been tied up before, but this time felt different. This time carried the sting of betrayal.
Partnering with Chen was such a bad idea, she grumbled to herself.
She had been stuck in the closet for hours, bound and gagged and emotionally drained. She needed to get out... but she feared her luck had run dry.
The sound of footsteps made her look up, somewhat hopefully. Outside the closet, she could hear voices... Several voices.
The closet door was unlocked and thrown open. Darla squinted in the light. Two people stood over her - a man and a women. From their appearance, they looked to be police officers.
"Found another one," the woman announced. She was tall and well-toned, with light skin and short straight-cut brown hair. She wore a light grey button-down shirt beneath a black jacket with a police badge, tan jeans, and slim black shoes. A peaked cap sat on her head, and a pair of sunglasses peeked out of her shirt pocket.
The officer knelt down beside Darla and removed her gag. "Easy, honey. You're gonna be okay."
She pulled out a small knife and began cutting Darla's bonds. "This is absurd... Dozens of women in this building, tied up in their underwear and hidden away. What kind of horrible people did this?"
"It's like a treasure hunt," her partner joked.
The policewoman glared at him. "This isn't funny, John. Some of our fellow officers have been mugged for their uniforms in the line of duty. Show a little sympathy."
The policeman shrugged. "Okay, okay..."
Darla turned to the policewoman. "Does he... have to be here?"
"See, now you're making her uncomfortable," the woman told her partner. "Maybe find something else to do. I'll keep looking for more women trapped in these closets."
The policeman shrugged again. "Fine. Whatever, Louise."
After he left, the woman turned back to Darla. "I'm sorry about that. He can be a real ass."
Darla rubbed her wrists, now free from their bonds. "It's okay... I just... Policemen make me uncomfortable. I always prefer female officers."
The woman smiled. "That's great to hear." She finished cutting Darla's ankle bonds. "Can I get you something, honey? Glass of water, maybe?"
"Actually," Darla said, "can you just stand still for a moment?"
"What do you... Uurrgghh!" The policewoman was stunned as Darla hit her with a lightning-quick neck chop.
Darla scrambled to her feet and shut the closet door for some privacy. "Let me show you why I prefer female officers," she deadpanned.
Although she typically viewed the process of uniform thievery in professional terms, Darla had to admit that stripping the policewoman of her clothing felt good. After feeling low and humiliated by Dr. Chen, it was nice to have an opportunity to regain some of her self-esteem.
It also helped that the uniform was a pretty good size, one of the better fits she'd stolen in a while. Darla donned the clothes and jacket and laced up the shoes.
The closet provided ample opportunities to restrain the woman - rolls of tape, coils of cord, several rags and zip-ties. Darla settled on some thick green tape for binding and gagging the officer, not wanting to waste any time with knots or mouth packing.
Darla exited the closet, shut the door, and slipped the sunglasses over her eyes. A couple of other police officers were walking down the hallway; she nodded politely as they passed. There was a slight bounce in her step as she navigated to the nearest exit.
********************
Just outside the Chrysalis building, a bakery van pulled to the curb.
Marina and Whitney surveyed the scene, a mix of disappointed emotions on their faces.
"This place is swarming with cops," Whitney observed. "They're probably looking for clues to track us down. No way are we getting inside."
"Sure we are," Marina said, staying positive. "We just lure a couple of cops over to this van, jump them, and grab their uniforms. Easy-peasy!"
Whitney made a face. "No way. Those uniforms look terrible. And they probably smell worse."
Marina frowned. "Darla's still trapped inside that building, and I'm not leaving without her. She needs our..."
Marina paused suddenly, as she glanced out the window. Then she rolled it down and waved her hands at an officer across the street. "Hey! Over here, girl!"
"What are you doing?" Whitney whispered. "Do you want us to get arrested?"
"Chill out, Whits," Marina smiled as the woman approached the vehicle. "I don't think we need to worry about arrests from this gal."
Darla lifted her sunglasses. "Wow! You guys came back... for me?"
"Of course!" Marina grinned. "BFFs, remember? Come on, hop in the back."
Darla obligingly climbed into the back of the van. Marina hit the gas, and they were off.
"So where are we going?" Darla asked. "What happened to Dr. Chen? Or..."
"Screw Dr. Chen," Marina said dismissively. "You girls are all I need. We don't need to be bossed around by some snooty stick-in-the-mud. We can do that to each other!"
"Great," Darla said approvingly. "But... we're on the run from the law. Whitney and I are escaped convicts. What's the plan?"
Marina shrugged. "We'll figure that out as we go along," she said. "In the meantime, we'll be fine. We've got plenty of dough."
Darla looked surprised. "You've got money?"
"Nope!" Marina chuckled. "We've got plenty of dough... in this bakery van! Want a cupcake?"
Whitney sighed. "She's been waiting to make that joke for the past thirty minutes."
"And I've got more on the way," Marina replied. "Hope my cookie puns don't drive you crackers!"
Whitney glanced out the window. "Maybe jail wasn't so bad after all..."
******************
Cassandra was grumbling to herself as she sat, handcuffed, to a large oak tree. Chandra couldn't fully hear what she was saying, but the occasional word she picked up was foul and unrepeatable.
Chandra was similarly handcuffed to another tree and seated in the dirt. So was Sonja, a few feet away. None of the women were particularly pleased with their situation, though Sonja remained curiously quiet.
Josie approached the three women proudly, hands on her hips. "I knew we'd catch you in the end," she said with a smile. "Crime never pays, ladies."
Cassandra glared at her. "You didn't catch us, you moron. You and your fellow FBI idiots couldn't catch a damn cold. If not for some dumb luck, you'd all still be tied up in that kitchen closet."
Josie shrugged. "Maybe you see it that way," she said. "But the point is, we'll be getting full credit for your arrest. That's what matters in the end."
She glanced at her watch. "We've contacted the state authorities, and they should be arriving any minute. You ladies will soon be safely secured in prison."
Cassandra glared at her. "If my hands weren't tied..."
"But they are," Josie shot back. "Deal with it." She turned heel and walked away, back to the other members of her team.
Cassandra continued to grumble to herself. Chandra turned to Sonja, who remained silent.
"Psst," she said. "Sonja, please. Talk to me."
Sonja kept her head down.
"Come on," Chandra whispered, not loudly enough for Cassandra to hear. "You've been keeping something from me. Just... tell me what it is. Why did you contact the authorities?"
Sonja looked at her friend, then sighed, a resigned look on her face.
"You're right... I haven't been fully honest with you."
She paused for a moment, then continued. "Three nights ago - shortly after we began working with Chen - I got a phone call. It was from Oksana."
"Who?"
"She was my partner... back in Russia. I worked with her in the SVR. But I haven't seen her in over five years... I have no idea how she found me. I took great pains to erase my former life when coming to America. But she must have plenty of resources at her disposal. She called me and said she knew that I had left my law-enforcement past behind... That she read on the news that I was now a fugitive from justice. But she didn't sound angry... She said she wanted to help."
"And you believed her?"
"Oksana was my best friend for years," Sonja said. "She sounded disappointed in me, but she'd never lie to me. She gave me an offer... A chance to clear myself and no longer need to run from the law. She wanted to meet with me... but I didn't have any opportunities to get away and meet with her. Not without arousing Chen's suspicions... So I simply bided my time. I didn't think the job in Chrysalis would work out - a very public place, so many opportunities to get caught - and would probably end with all of us in jail... so I left an anonymous tip with the authorities to send a SWAT team." She smiled. "I was hoping we could steal their uniforms, get somewhere far away, and maybe I'd finally have an opportunity to sever ties with Chen and meet with Oksana."
Chandra didn't look angry so much as she looked hurt. "Why didn't you tell me about any of this?"
Chandra looked back down at the ground. "I didn't know what to say."
She looked back at Chandra. "But... I'd have brought you along! I would have told her that you deserved protection as well. After all, you're not really a criminal."
Chandra rolled her eyes. "Really?"
"I... I was hopeful." Sonja sighed. "Maybe I'm naïve, but hope is all I've got left at this point."
Chandra didn't know what to say. She felt disappointed by her friend, but sorry for her as well.
Her search for the right words was interrupted as the sound of grinding wheels on dirt paths grew louder and nearer.
A large prisoner transportation van rumbled into view. Josie and the other FBI agents smiled with relief as the vehicle pulled up and parked itself beside the trees.
Two women exited the van, both dressed in the protective armor of security guards. This consisted of dark blue flannel shirts and pants, dark grey vest with matching elbows and knee pads, black lace-up boots and black face-concealing helmets. The women respectfully saluted Josie and her squad as they approached.
Josie saluted back. "There they are, officers," she smiled, gesturing to the three women tied to the trees. "Do your duty."
Chandra, Sonja, and Cassandra each said nothing as their binding ropes were replaced with handcuffs and they were marched onto the van.
"Don't forget who was responsible for their capture," Josie told the van driver. "It was me and my team. We did it all." She smiled proudly.
The driver nodded as she got back into the van. The other armored woman stepped into the rear with the prisoners.
With the trio of captured women secured, the van roared away, leaving a pleased-looking Josie behind.
Inside the van, Sonja hardly looked pleased. She stared forlornly at the floor.
Chandra was upset as well. She wished the van had some windows she could look out of, to distract her from looking at Sonja. But the van was dimly lit and mostly unfurnished, save for a few storage compartments built into the underside of the seats.
Cassandra was glancing at the driver in annoyance, though she was also mentally annoyed at herself for taking that smoking break.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other guard, seated across from her, pull out a pneumatic gun.
'Hey, what are you... urgh!" Cassandra stiffened as a dart hit her in the neck.
"What... ughh!" Chandra's eyes widened as another dart hit her in the shoulder.
Both women slumped forward, unconscious, staying upright only due to the cuffs that secured them to the van wall.
Sonja stared in shock as the guard removed her helmet, shaking her shoulder-length, honey-brown hair from confinement. She had light skin and hazel eyes. "Whew! American uniforms are so restrictive."
Sonja's eyes bulged. "...Oksana?"
The woman smiled. "Privyet, Sonja. It has been a while."
She turned to the driver. "You can pull over, Polina. We're far enough away."
The driver obliged. She pulled the van to the side of the road and removed her helmet, revealing her white skin, blue eyes, and ponytail of dark hair.
Sonja struggled to find the right words. "How... Where..." She glanced at the slumbering Chandra. "Will she be okay?"
"Of course," Oksana said reassuringly. "We use only the most harmless of sleeping drugs. They'll be fine. We'll leave them at the prison and take you back with us to Russia."
Sonja grimaced. "Go... back? I thought you..."
"You thought what?" Oksana asked. "You're not exactly popular in these parts, podrooga."
Sonja shrugged. "I know, but... I like this country."
Polina sighed. "Can we hurry it up? The real guards will be waking up soon."
Oksana bent down and opened one of the storage compartments beneath the seats. Sonja could see two women crammed inside, both unconscious. One of the women had light skin and copper red hair; she was dressed in an emerald-blue triangle bra and red-white zigzag-striped V-kini panties. The other woman had tanned skin and coal black hair; she wore a pearl white T-shirt bra and lavender tanga panties. Both women were bound with dark brown cords and gagged with white cloths.
"They should be asleep a while longer." Oksana shut the compartment and turned back to Sonja. "Come on, Sonj, my friend and I are breaking federal laws here. We intercepted this van on the way to arrest you, jumped the officers, and put on their uniforms. And let me tell you, they are not nearly as comfortable as the police uniforms we wear back home."
Sonja nodded. "Believe me, I know."
"Come back with us, Sonja," Oksana urged. "I know you've made mistakes, but you're a good woman at heart. Let's get you back home. You can join the SVR again. Wipe away this chapter of your life."
Sonja hesitated. She glanced at Chandra again. "Can... can my friend come with me? I've been through a lot with her... I can't abandon her now..."
Oksana gave her a sympathetic smile. "Sonj, I know this is a lot to process... but I'm already breaking protocol by trying to extradite you. Bringing along another woman - someone our intel suggests may be a dangerous criminal - is hardly an option."
Sonja frowned. "Chandra's not a dangerous criminal. She's been my close confidante these last few weeks... and the best partner a girl could ask for. I... I can't abandon her."
From the driver's seat, Polina groaned. "I knew this was a waste of time."
Oksana gave her partner an annoyed look. Then she turned back to Sonja. "Are you sure about this? Because if you change your mind..."
"I won't," Sonja said sternly. "I'd rather stick with my friend than leave her alone to rot in jail."
Oksana nodded. "I understand."
She raised her dart gun and fired. The small projectile hit Sonja right between her breasts.
"Why did you...?" Those were the only words Sonja managed to slur out before she slumped over in her seat.
She remained asleep as Polina drove the rest of the way to the prison, right up to the main gate.
"The prisoners were acting unruly," she explained to the gate guard. "We had to sedate them."
Prison guards quickly entered the van and took hold of Chandra, Sonja, and Cassandra, carrying them off to be processed.
Polina parked the van in the outside lot and stepped out. Oksana gave one last look at the two bound and gagged women in the compartment, to ensure they were okay.
"Quit dawdling," Polina urged. "We need to get moving."
Oksana nodded and closed the compartment. She followed her friend out of the van and off into the night.
"What a waste," Polina grumbled. "You make me come all this way, put on this ridiculous uniform... and for what? We're returning home empty-handed."
But Oksana had a small smile playing on her lips. "Patience, Polina... patience," she mused. "We only need to give Sonja a little time. She may be stubborn, but she's not stupid."
Her eyes twinkled as she glanced back toward the prison. "Sooner or later, she'll have second thoughts. And when that day comes, we'll be ready." She chuckled. "The motherland never leaves anyone behind."
******************
Ashley was quiet for most of the trip back to town, staring pensively out the window.
Eleanor glanced at her from the driver's seat. She had offered to drive Ashley back to Chrysalis, rather than risk letting the civilian woman hitchhike at this late hour.
"You okay?" she asked.
Ashley nodded, her gaze fixated on the passing trees and hilltops. "Fine... I'm fine."
Eleanor kept her eyes on the road, trying to find the right words.
"So," she said in a chipper voice, "how was it tonight? Playing the hero for a while, instead of the hapless victim."
Ashley let out a half-hearted laugh. "The hero... me? That's hilarious."
"But it's true," Eleanor replied. "Okay, so maybe you didn't save the day, but you certainly helped me and my fellow FBI gals. Not sure we could have stopped Chen without your help. You..."
"Please," Ashley held up a hand. "Eleanor, I... I appreciate your compliments, but... I don't deserve them."
Eleanor looked surprised. "Are you saying you don't feel a sense of accomplishment for tonight? That you didn't test the limits of your strength, learn anything new about yourself?"
"Oh, no... I definitely learned about myself," Ashley said. "No question, this has been a very illuminating evening."
Eleanor nodded. She wanted to press further, but she could tell that Ashley had been through a lot, and probably wasn't in the mood for introspective conversation.
Besides, they had arrived back at Chrysalis Hall.
"Need anything else?" Eleanor asked. "if your boss asks why you were away for the night, I can drop him a line and explain..."
"That's very kind of you," Ashley said as she stepped out of the car. "But... I think I'll be fine. Good night, Eleanor."
Eleanor nodded, and gave a salute. "Good night, Agent Ashley."
She smiled and drove away.
Ashley watched her go, then turned back towards Chrysalis. Head high, she walked toward the entrance.
Several police officers were striding around the perimeter of the building. Ashley stopped in surprise as one of them held up a hand.
"Hold it, miss. Where are you going?"
"Um... I work here," Ashley said. "I'm a security guard."
"Well, you didn't do a very good job of guarding," the officer responded. "We've found over a dozen employees, in and around the building, all bound and gagged and stripped of their clothes."
Ashley nodded. She was of course aware of this - especially since she had helped mug a few of these women herself. But she decided not to share that little detail.
"Can I go inside?" she asked. "My employer's probably worried about me."
The officer sighed. "Okay, go on in. And let us know if you find any other people tied up in the building. We've searched most of the closets, but... this place has a lot of closets."
Ashley nodded, and hurried inside. She weaved around some officers working in the hall, and headed for the security office at the rear of the building.
None of the officers were in this wing. Ashley guessed they were mostly working up front, comforting the guests and escorting them out. That suited Ashley just fine; she appreciated the privacy.
As she neared the office, a thump-thump sound alerted her. It was coming from a nearby closet.
Curiously, Ashley approached. She unlocked the door and swung it open.
Seated on the floor of the closet were her fellow security guards, Jocelyn and Gabriella. Both women were bound with rope and gagged with washrags. Jocelyn wore a white underwire bra and tan boyshorts, while Gabriella had a grey sports bra and black control top.
Judging by the wear of the ropes on their wrists and ankles, the women looked like they had been in their current position for several hours. They looked up with relief as the hallway light shined in on their dark enclave.
"Mmmmrrppphhh," Jocelyn moaned at Ashley.
"Hhrrrggppphhh," Gabriella nodded.
Ashley looked a bit surprised, but quickly assessed the situation. She smiled down at her two coworkers. "Well, well... This is an interesting turn of events, isn't it?"
Jocelyn scowled at her. "Ggrrmmpppphhh!"
"Just a few hours ago, you two were mocking me for repeatedly getting my uniform stolen," Ashley continued. "And now you've gotten to experience the discomfort of the situation firsthand! Not very much fun, is it?"
"Hhhmmppphhh," Gabriella grumbled.
Ashley knelt down beside the women. "Chins up, girls," she said. ""Believe it or not, this is actually a good thing! You're both very lucky in being mugged for your uniforms."
As the two guards stared at her in confusion, Ashley smiled. "Statistics show that the average female security guard gets her uniform stolen at least once in her career... and maybe two or three times or more." She sighed wistfully. "I've gotten mugged for my clothes more times than I can count... and I can tell you from experience, the first time is the toughest. I was trapped in a closet, all by myself, left cold and scared while some other woman paraded around in my clothes.
"But you girls... you girls have been through the first time - the hardest time - and you've been through it together! You got to keep each other company." Ashley chuckled. "So the next time either of you gets your uniform stolen - and I can tell you, there's no escaping it, there will be a next time - it won't be such a stressful experience."
Jocelyn and Gabriella both moaned again, loudly and in unison.
"I know, I know," Ashley nodded. "You want me to free you. And I will." She reached for the ropes which bound the women.
Then, abruptly, she pulled back. "I'll free you... in another hour or two." She stood back up. "Like I said, if this is your first time getting your clothes stolen, it's best to see the experience through. Spending a full night in a closet, tied up and in your underwear, is a great learning experience and an excellent way to ensure you'll feel better the next time some woman decides to make unlicensed use of your clothes."
The two guards continued to moan loudly as Ashley shut the door, trapping them in darkness once again.
Ashley continued walking down the hall, whistling softly to herself. There was a slight spring in her step.
*******************
It was quite late when Moira pulled the car up to the Dennison compound. She had already dropped Bridget, Bobbi, and Felicia off back at Bridget's apartment. Now she turned to the only remaining passenger in the car.
"Last stop," she said with a smile. "Everybody off."
Prema yawned. "God, it's been such a crazy day." She looked up at her office building. "And yet, work still waits for me tomorrow."
"I might just fall asleep in the car," Moira mused. "These pleather seats are mighty comfortable."
Prema absent-mindedly brushed the seat with her hand. "You're gonna return it, right?" she asked. "The car. We stole it, after all. Along with these clothes..."
"I'll leave it somewhere it can be found," Moira replied. "Don't want it traced back to me... Can't have the law breathing down my neck."
Prema rubbed her shoulder. "It's crazy... All the stuff I've been through these past few weeks. I feel like I should be used to the chaos, the danger by now. But I always feel comforted when I get to go home."
"It's a natural feeling," Moira nodded. "Especially for someone as sympathetic as you. You don't seek out this craziness, but you adapt to it quite well. You're an amazing woman, Prema."
Prema felt her heart skip a beat. Without meaning to, she felt herself blush.
Moira noticed, and immediately looked a bit uncomfortable. "I mean... I admire you. You're a great friend."
Prema bit her lip. Part of her wanted to leave the car, but something was keeping her still.
"Look..." she said slowly. "About before... When you... When you kissed me..."
"I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable," Moira quickly replied. "I don't know what came over me... I was so caught up in the moment. I'm sorry..."
"No! Don't apologize." Prema swallowed. "Don't apologize. I... I didn't hate it."
Moira looked surprised. "But... you told me you weren't into girls."
"I'm not," Prema said. "I mean, I wasn't. I don't know." She ran her fingers through her hair. "These last few weeks, I've learned a lot of new things about myself... I'm so confused... Can't say I even know who I am."
She sat in silence for several moments, unsure of what to say. Then, slowly, she felt a warm palm squeeze her hand.
Prema looked up to see Moira smiling at her.
"If you're willing," she said, "I'd be happy to help you find out."
It was the warmest smile Prema had ever seen. She couldn't help but return it with a smile of her own.
"I... I'd like that," she said softly.
The two women stared into each other's eyes for several seconds. Long, eternal seconds.
The loud CLANK of a nearby oil derrick snapped them out of their reverie.
Prema sat up straight, blinking. "I need to get back to work. And Nita..."
Moira nodded. "Understood. I need to get home."
Prema opened the car door and stepped out. Then she turned back to Moira. "I'll... see you soon?"
Moira nodded warmly. "You have my number."
Prema stood and watched as Moira drove off into the distance.
She wasn't sure where her life would be heading from this point... but for the first time in a while, she was eager to find out.
********************
Bridget stepped through her apartment door, a wave of relief washing over her. It was good to be home.
Without meaning to, she winced. The sharp pain in her arm could be ignored no longer.
"Felicia," she said to her young friend, now stepping through the door. "Could you grab the bandages from the closet?"
Felicia nodded and quickly headed into the next room.
Bobbi stood at the apartment door, unsure if she should enter.
Bridget noticed her fidgeting. "Well, come on in. There's no admission fee."
Cautiously, Bobbi stepped into the apartment. She looked up at Bridget, a bit uncomfortably. "Look, earlier today... I was rude. I'm sorry."
Bridget nodded understandingly. "You were frustrated," she said. "We all get that way sometimes. I probably shouldn't have responded the way I did." She smiled. "But it didn't stop you from coming to our rescue when we needed you."
Bobbi beamed. "Are you kidding? I could never leave you guys."
Felicia reentered the room and gave the bandages to Bridget. Bobbi smiled at her. "Hey, Felicia... It's been a long day, but... Still best friends, right?"
Felicia looked at Bobbi. She had a lot of thoughts on her mind, but wasn't sure how to phrase them, especially with Bridget around.
Bridget noticed her friend hesitating. She nodded. "I'll give you two a moment alone while I patch up my arm."
She stepped toward the bathroom. Then she paused, and turned back to her two friends. "I love you girls. You know that, right?"
Felicia and Bobbi nodded in unison. Bridget smiled and shut the bathroom door.
Felicia turned her attention back to Bobbi. "So."
"So," Bobbi echoed. "Can we let bygones be bygones?"
"I mean... You knocked me out with a nerve pinch," Felicia replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "And that wasn't vey bygone."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry if I hurt you. But... You just haven't had the field experience that I've had lately."
"Field experience?" Felicia said incredulously. "I've been doing this sort of infiltration work for almost two years. In case you forgot, I'm the one who taught you all about it."
"I didn't forget," Bobbi replied. "I'm grateful for everything you taught me. And I love working with you. But..."
"But?"
"But I worry about you," Bobbi finished. "You're my friend, and I don't want you to get hurt."
"I don't want you to get hurt," Felicia responded. "I think you're getting a little too enamored with the idea of mugging innocent women of their clothes."
At this, Bobbi couldn't help but chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Felicia asked.
"Innocent women," Bobbi mused. "We don't mug innocent women, Felicia. The women we mug are pompous, rude, authoritative... They wear their uniforms proudly and haughtily. It feels great to teach them a lesson... To see them wake up, bound and gagged in their goofy-colored underwear. The reaction on a woman's face when she sees me wearing her clothes, helpless to stop me... It feels good."
"But..."
"Tell me," Bobbi continued. "Tell me I'm wrong, Felicia. Tell me it doesn't feel good."
"It... sometimes feels good," Felicia admitted. "But not every woman is like that! Some of them are just a means to an end... Sometimes I just need a disguise... I don't like teasing the woman being mugged."
"Maybe you should," Bobbi replied. "I think that's the problem, Felicia... You haven't fully embraced the excitement of the adventure. Stealing a woman's clothes isn't supposed to be dry and mechanical. It's supposed to be fun."
Felicia could see a twinkle in Bobbi's eye, and the impish grin on her face. "I... I don't..."
"Trust me," Bobbi continued. "Once you lose the thrill of the adventure, you're in trouble. The next time you steal a woman's uniform, try mocking her taste in underwear, or joke about the fit of her outfit. It'll help keep you on your game."
Before Felicia could respond, Bridget stepped out of the restroom, the bandages around her arm. "So, how's it going? All good now?"
Bobbi nodded. "All good. Right, Felicia?"
Felicia didn't know what to say. But she forced herself to nod, slowly. "All... all good."
She glanced at Bobbi again, trying to hide her anxiety.
Bobbi's a grown woman... She can take care of herself. There's nothing wrong with her.
But she wasn't fully convinced.
**********************
Felicia and Bobbi didn't talk much for the rest of the night. They stayed at Bridget's apartment for a bit to clean themselves up, then had gone their separate ways to get home and to bed.
But Bridget stayed awake. She had to type up the story of her most recent escapade.
It wasn't easy. She had promised the FBI agents that they would receive full credit for the defeat of Dr. Chen and her henchwomen, and fulfilling this promise involved changing several key details. Bridget did not like changing the facts when she reported a story, but this time she did not have much choice.
Can't keep this up forever, she though to herself, putting the finishing touches on the story. At some point, I'm gonna get caught... and what then?
She was so caught up in her own writing, and her own thoughts, that she did not realize the sun rising outside her window. She had been awake the entire night, and she didn't feel the least bit tired.
It was only when she heard the knock at her door that Bridget snapped out of her writing zone and arose from her chair.
"Who could that be?"
She approached the door, feeling instinctively cautious, and opened it.
"Hello, Ms. Baxter."
Chloe Cleary was standing there, a sheepish smile on her face. Behind her was her sister Robyn, looking cross as ever.
"Um... good morning," Bridget said in surprise.
"I'm so glad you're okay," Chloe said. "When those SWAT ladies came and arrested you, I thought they'd lock you up forever. But the new report put out by the FBI has cleared everything up."
I'm sure it has, Bridget thought wryly to herself.
"Do you... want to come in?" Bridget asked. "Sorry, my place is a bit of a mess..."
"That would be lovely!" Chloe smiled.
But Robyn cleared her throat. "Sis, get to the damn point."
"Oh..." Chloe murmured. "Right." She looked up at Bridget. "I think I owe you an apology."
"For what?"
"Last night... the awards ceremony. I felt bad. I love my sister, and I know she wanted to win. I know she's a great writer, and..."
"Hurry up," Robyn said. "Do you want me to tell her?"
"Okay, okay." Robyn took a deep breath. "Look, the ceremony was rigged. It was rigged, okay? And it's my fault."
Bridget looked surprised and confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I wanted Robyn to cheer up. I know she'd be super upset if she lost the award..."
"False," Robyn interjected. "I wouldn't have cared."
"....So I kind of... bribed the emcee to declare my sister the winner." Chloe looked truly embarrassed. "I know it was wrong, but I... I did it anyway. I'm so sorry."
Bridget nodded, processing this new info. "But... why are you telling me?"
"Well... after the ceremony was cut short and everything was in chaos, Robyn got her hands on the real envelope and learned the real winner. It was... It was you, Ms. Baxter! The award should have been yours. I couldn't hide it any longer... I told her everything. And now I'm telling you."
She pulled the trophy out of her bag and handed it to Bridget. "Here... This belongs to you."
Bridget looked at the trophy in stunned silence. Then she remembered that the contest had been rigged from her end as well.
She looked up at Chloe. "I... can't accept this."
"Why not?" Chloe asked incredulously. "I swear I'm telling the truth. You've earned this!"
"I believe you," Bridget nodded. "But... I don't think I have earned it."
"You're one of the best reporters I've ever met," Chloe assured her. "You and my sister. Both amazing!"
Robyn rolled her eyes. "Can we wrap things up here?"
Bridget glanced down at the award again. Of course, she had no way of knowing whether she was the true winner. But then again, she had no way of knowing if Robyn was the true winner either. The final results were lost, probably without chance of recovery.
But looking at Chloe, Bridget could see the sadness in her eyes, and the hopeful admiration as well. Here was a woman who wanted to do what she thought was right, and it seemed cruel to stand in her way.
Bridget held out her hand. "I'll take it."
A beaming Chloe put the trophy in Bridget's hands. "I'm so glad, Ms. Baxter. And I promise never to pull another trick like that again."
Bridget smiled at her. "Please, call me Bridget," she said. "You're a good person, Chloe. You just made a mistake. I'm glad to see you learn from it."
"Thanks... Bridget," Chloe replied with a sunny smile.
"Can we please get moving?" Robyn urged. "I've got places to be."
"Okay, okay, we're going." Chloe turned and stepped back down the hall.
Robyn gave Bridget a curt nod. "Congrats, Baxter," she said. "If anyone had to win, I'm... glad it was you."
Bridget smiled politely. "Thank you."
The two sisters headed down the hall and disappeared into the stairwell.
Bridget watched them go. Then she glanced down at the shiny statuette in her hands. It was cool to the touch, yet there was a certain warmth emanating from it as well.
She stepped back inside her apartment and closed the door. Trophy still in hand, she walked towards her bedroom.
Bridget placed the trophy down on the dresser. She glanced at herself in the mirror. A rough night, but she still appeared presentable enough.
A thought came to her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper. The one that Chen had forced into her hands a few hours ago.
She uncrumpled the paper, smoothed it out as best she could, and began to read.
"I want to thank the National Journalistic Society for bestowing me with this honor," she said slowly. "There are plenty of good, hard-working journalists in this room tonight, and any one of them is deserving of this award.
"In fact... There's a good chance that most of the journalists gathered here tonight deserve this award far more than I do.
"While it is the mark of a good reporter to obtain her stories through honest and legal means, it's time for me to admit - I do not engage in such preferred practices. Most of the stories I've obtained in my career have been obtained through trickery and deceit.
"Maybe once in a while, you glance at the news and notice a story about some woman being found in a closet... Bound and gagged, and stripped to her underwear. She tells the authorities that another woman knocked her out and stole her clothes. Typically, she's crying and hysterical.
"Perhaps a decade ago, a scene like this would have been unusual and uncommon... But it's happening with growing frequency. Nurses, maids, waitresses, security guards, flight attendants... If you're a woman whose profession involves wearing a uniform, the odds of you getting mugged and stripped by another woman grow with each passing year.
"What's causing the rise in uniform thefts, you may ask? Well, it's tough to be a woman in today's world. Getting ahead at your job is difficult. Climbing the corporate ladder is painful. That's why more and more women are discovering and embracing the practices of disguise and subterfuge. Posing as someone else is a great and easy shortcut to getting what you want. No one would suspect a woman in a maid uniform of stealing secrets from a CEO. No one would think a pretty showgirl in a sparkly blue leotard is actually an undercover detective working a case.
"And no one would suspect me.
"That's right, ladies and gentlemen... I, Bridget Baxter, am not the morally righteous woman you think I am. Over the last few years, I've stolen dozens of uniforms and worn dozens of disguises to infiltrate areas that would otherwise have been off-limits. I've stripped plenty of unconscious women, tied them up and gagged them, left them locked in a dark closet or car trunk, simply because I needed their clothes.
"I'm not the first reporter to engage in underhanded practices, but other reporters who engage in journalistic malpractice don't deserve to be rewarded."
Bridget looked up from the paper and glanced at the mirror as she spoke the final sentence.
"And neither do I."
Bridget stared at her reflection for several long seconds, digesting the words she had spoken.
Dr. Chen had been an evil woman, but she was nothing if not perceptive. The speech - the confession - hit closer to home than Bridget cared to admit.
Still, Chen was gone. And Bridget was a free woman - free to continue her escapades, to take on more undercover assignments, to mug more women for their clothes.
She was far from the only woman who engaged in such untraditional tactics. Uniform thefts were indeed on the rise, by women who intended both good and evil with their disguises.
Bridget always considered herself one of the good ones. Still, the world as she knew it was complicated. In the past few weeks alone, she had fought against a few women and then worked alongside them. The lines between heroism and villainy grew blurrier every day.
Bridget sighed. Someday, perhaps she would be caught. Arrested and forced to pay for her crimes.
But in the meantime, there were plenty of real and dangerous criminals in the world. And someone needed to seek them out and expose them. Make them pay for their crimes.
Bridget knew she could be that someone. She would continue fighting the good fight, for as long as she could.
No matter what anyone - especially not Julia Chen - thought of her.
She recrumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash. Then she exited the room and stepped into the kitchen for some coffee.
There was a busy day ahead, and she wanted to be ready it.
Nice epilogue. It's always an important part of a story, as it shows the care you have for these characters, displaying their fate. You've highlighted the relationships that received developments (Moira and Prema, Bobbi and Felicia...), and you've summed up some of the character developments whether they are positive or negative (Felicia's, Bobbi's...).
Some genuinely funny moments. Meredith and Lucinda may have gotten away, but it looks like they will still face SOME karma. And poor Linda fell victim of bad timing. Fictional worlds love their irony.
I often have a good connection with 'nautical'-based uniform stealings, as they remember me the first parts of the Greatest Actress of All. Besides, they feature rarer sets of clothes, so it's always a plus. The scene with the longshorewomen was therefore my favorite. Plus, the women are knocked out offscreen. A nice effect of style, and I like seeing it pop up from time to time.
I always appreciate it when a story takes the time to mention that the victims are being found afterwards. It's not always easy to include it, but it's a nice detail to feature from time to time. (If it's featured from time to time, one can easily guess that it happens off-screen the rest of the time. A perfect narrative tool.)
Ashley's given a little break, it's always nice.
Bobbi's character development is taking the turn I was dreading, making her more and more unlikable in my eyes due to what I perceive as a mixture of callousness, moral myopia, and hypocrisy. I don't know if it's deliberate, but the justification she gives to Felicia comes a little out of nowhere - as if she was trying to find an excuse for her attitude. I don't remember her expressing such views before, and a good chunk of the bullies she recently came across were in fact wearing casual clothes. Still a testimony of how I'm invested in these characters. I'm still awaiting to see where this will go , though I'm not sure I'll be rooting for her success anymore...
Interesting take on Bridget's reactions. She seems to go back and forth, a way to highlight how confused and lost she is.
Chloe's reveal ties up loose ends nicely. I wasn't expecting that twist, but it felt logical after reading it. A good twist, then!
To conclude, a good story.
Now, on to the big topic I wanted to mention, about how I'm commenting your stories as of late, and why I tend to focus more on more on personal appreciation of the characters.
I'm saying all that because, by that point, the qualities of your writing style are well-established. After five volumes (not counting previous stories and spin-offs), you seem very comfortable with your style. I've already mentioned times after times the qualities of your writing style, hence why I now tend to more discuss the actions and developments of the characters.
However, I'll mention my thoughts on the writing style once more:
Your writing style is still especially good at creating suspense, and at building up the climax. In that regards, your way of interwining the stories is perfect and very useful.
Speaking of which, the interwined storylines were easier to follow this time compared to some other times. I think I was able to pinpoint why. First, of course, it was because all the characters were returning characters. Second, it's because the varying storylines still have end goals that connect them from the beginning. Even though you don't know HOW they will connect, you can easily see from the beginning that they WILL connect. (I can compare it to the subplot related to the sport teams and colour guards in Volume 4, which for a good chunk of the story felt very disconnected from the main story precisely because there was no clue of how it could connect with the other main storyline.) In that regards, I felt like Volume 5 was a huge improvement!
Once again, the pace of your stories are great. Everything moves precisely at the right speed - the pace is slow enough to build suspense and to allow for sessions of 'intense uniform stealings' at parts, but never lingers for too long. You take the time to describe each character, which is of course great.
I don't know if I mentioned it often, but you have a knack for writing action scenes - as proven by the climax.
I don't want to spend hours quoting my favorite lines, so I'll simply add that the humour is still spot-on, with many good lines. The interactions between the characters often lead to great moments.
About the character developments, they feel natural. While I often mention parts that bother me or that I dislike about them, I want to emphasize here that this is due to personal taste, NOT due to a rushed or incoherent writing. You're taking great efforts to develop these characters, and to give them three-dimentional personalities, and it shows.
And now, about a part I wanted to discuss for some time, but I preferred to wait until the end of the story because it's more a general feeling, not linked to a part (or even a story) in particular.
It's been a long time since I began to read and comment stories on this board. After all this time, I admit that I don't always find constructive things to say about the writing style or the effects of style used. As I said several times, you've found a good writing style and you're comfortable with it, outside of repeating the same things I don't have much to say about it. Therefore, to have something to say after each post, I thought that a good solution would be more to discuss the reactions I had: what I liked, what I didn't. The problem is that these thoughts are even more subjective than opinion on writing style...
For instance, Bobbi's character development is well-written: progressive and coherent. I'm growing to dislike Bobbi more and more as a character the more the negative parts of her personality are emphasized, but it's due to personal taste, not due to errors of characterization or writing. I simply realize that, after three years of reading and writing stories, my tastes have evolved and I have grown to strongly dislike character archetypes such as Bobbi's, due to what I perceive as an inherent callousness behind their actions and, more importantly, behind their attitude. There's just something that rubs me the wrong way about their attitude. (If I can allow myself to go off at a small tangent, I started to feel the same way towards the character of Klenia, that I ended up resenting a lot because of the unfortunate implications of her personality - hence why she was featured a lot less and the last time she appeared, it was to be slightly deconstructed.) More precisely, since I identify some of their attributes as the attributes of antagonists, I have a harder time rooting for them when they're protagonists, because I want to see them fail and not to see them succeed anymore. And it's usually because of one/a few small detail(s) that will make me dislike the character, while other almost similar characters don't bother me that much. It's linked to the characters' other qualities and flaws, their role in the story, the way the narration treats them, the tone of the story itself... So many variable, it's sometimes hard for me to pinpoint why a specific character rubs me the wrong way while an other doesn't.
Same with the ending of Ashley's subplot in the previous update. From a stylistic perspective, it was great: the anticlimax, as well as Ashley's, Whitney's and Marina's reactions were great to create a comical effect. However, due to my personal taste, I couldn't help but see it as a huge downer ending for that character. Due to my personal tastes and opinion on character development, I saw her decision to accept being a victim as something negative and very pessimistic. It's original, surprising, and well-written, but I couldn't appreciate it because of personal tastes.
Same when some 'very dark grey' characters such as murderers like Lucinda or Meredith (mostly) getting away.
Now, the one-million-dollars question: Why did I spend so much time writing these few paragraphs?
The point is, I don't want to sound heavy-handed when I comment on other stories. I sometimes feel very embarassed when I'm saying negative things about a story element that obviously took a lot of work and efforts, simply because of my personal tastes. I also don't want to influence the writing process, because reading other comments make me realize that I'm the minority; that while I don't appreciate a character or a character development, others do, and I shouldn't try to conform everything to my personal wants. (Though at the same time, a part of me would like to see these characters go to a specific direction. I'm only human.) It's important to judge a story for what it is, not for what I would want it to be, but it's not always easy. So I'm hoping that these comments aren't becoming annoying in the long run, and that you will say it to me if they are. Because ultimately, these specific observations aren't very helpful to help the writing style progress - as they are by definition subjective observations about tastes.
Voilà, it's done. I wanted to say these things for quite some time, and now I've finally mustered up the courage to do it. I'm curious to see what the next story will be - spin-off, other entry of the main series, or even a story with completely different characters.
Thanks for the quick and detailed reply! I certainly tried to have this epilogue encapsulate as many characters and tie up as many threads (not to mention USB victims ) as I could.
It was tricky deciding which villains would get away, which would get caught, etc. For Meredith and Lucinda, I felt they deserved some sort of happy ending, but still needed some form of punishment, so I tried to find the right balance. Linda was a bit easier to figure out, since she was more villainous (despite her forgoing her earlier quest for revenge).
I also enjoy nautical uniform thefts, so it was fun to include them. Easier to limit them to the docks, though, since once they're on a boat, stealing clothes becomes more difficult. And of course, I can never resist a good offscreen knockout.
Ashley's ending was a little tough to write, as I wanted to give her something of a different ending yet still give her some level of accomplishment. Her conversation with Jocelyn and Gabriella was my way of subverting the usual example of a USB victim gaining confidence. She has a level of confidence, it's just very misplaced.
Bobbi definitely taking a darker path, though as always, I don't want her to be truly unlikable in doing so. It's true, several of her victims were wearing casual clothes, but they tended to be rude, or she at least tried to find excuses to mug them in their personalities. Her conversation with Felicia is a way of showing their ever-diverging views, though it's understandable if that makes Bobbi appear more unlikable. I don't see her story as over quite yet.
Same with Bridget. She's a confident character, convinced she's doing what's right, but she does have her doubts now and then. She puts on a good face for her friends, but the life she leads is a tricky one.
Chloe's reveal is something I wasn't sure would go over well, since I felt I waited to long and didn't disclose it till the very end of the story. Glad you liked it, then. I just wanted to have a couple of more non-USB related characters play a part in the story, as a way of grounding some of the other elements, and Chloe and Robyn mostly succeeded there.
Yes, my writing style is probably well established by this point. I feel like I should throw a curveball and tell a really dark story at some point, but I don't think that's in my nature. It seems to be well-accepted, so I just keep at it.
I purposely listened to your critiques from previous volumes and tried to make the intertwining stories a bit more closely linked. Though I love featuring disparate storylines and finding ways to link them, a story which features two dozen characters is easier to keep track of if it's based around a single element (like the award ceremony). The characters have different goals and narrative arcs, but I tried to keep them mostly on the same track.
I also try to lean more into descriptions and add different flavors of uniform stealing (some light and funny, others more intense). It's a good way to add variety to the story and maintain suspense and intrigue.
There wasn't as much room for humor in this chapter, since I had a lot of loose ends to resolve, but I tried to add a few jokes where I could.
It's true, these characters take a lot of time to write. I genuinely want each woman to have her own personality and character arc, even if some of these arcs are not to everyone's tastes. I do my best to make these characters understandable, even if they're not always sympathetic.
I'm fine hearing subjective thoughts. After all, we're all human, we all have subjective responses to the stories we read. I think that's a great way of discussing stories, actually. So I understand your feelings about Bobbi, who is certainly not the most morally upstanding character (considering she's still seen as one of the heroes) and Ashley, who is not going in the most admirable of directions. Still, I'm hopeful that some of the future developments for these characters will be interesting and worthwhile.
As I've mentioned in the past, some of my favorite characters in your stories were the villains (Reka and her henchwomen; Lizéa, Tiffany, and Yuki). I found their bantering hilarious, and their personalities to be lively and interesting, due to how morally complicated they could be. While I can't always say I was rooting for them to succeed, I found them interesting to follow. But I understand that was partly my personal taste as well. I love complicated female villains (hence why I tried to give various personalities to the villains in this story), and can't always bring myself to give them downer endings.
I think you do a great job of separating your general thoughts on the story with your personal critiques. I really appreciate the time and effort you take for the feedback; it's always good to read. And while I try to take these characters to places I think are logical and understandable, I always try to listen if people find them alienating. The purpose of these stories is to be entertaining, and I'm always looking for ways to maintain that.
I've certainly got plans for the next story, though I don't know when I will get around to it. (Hopefully sooner than later.) Writing these novel-length stories takes a lot of energy, so I will probably do something shorter next time. I have a couple of spin-off stories in early development, and I will probably end up writing them before I attempt another lengthy epic. As always, stay tuned.
You're welcome. I don't have much merit when it comes to the quickness of my reply though. A good chunk of the second part about my general thoughts was written in advance, because I knew that the epilogue wouldn't change much of it.
I don't think you should venture into a different writing style if you don't feel like it. Having a well-established writing style is a good thing, and it allows you to perfect it after each story.
I'm glad I could finally adress the topic about the subjective thoughts I include more and more often in my comments, and I thank you a lot for understanding my point. It's true that, in that regards, we can only agree that we disagree on some points. (For instance, personally I think that Meredith and Lucinda get away very lightly for corrupt businesswomen and murderers. In my opinion, they are no better than Linda. Even Marina, Whitney, and Darla get away easily in my opinion.) I'll try to still be very clear when I'm expressing a personal opinion, and when I'm discussing the style, the story and the narrative tools, of course.
The fact that I end up disliking some characters such as Bobbi, the fact that they are becoming unsympathetic in some aspects, I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing per say. (Though I confess that sometimes it bothers me. ) In my opinion, the worst sentiment that a character can arouse is not dislike or anger, but apathy. To quote TV Tropes: "Some character archetypes work because they are conduits for Laser-Guided Karma. In other words, even if you hate the character, you still care about what happens to them, if only because you want to see them get their comeuppance. After all, the opposite of love is not hate, but apathy."
Bobbi's, Bridget's and Felicia's recent developments are interesting, and no matter what I think of these characters, they are the promise of compelling interesting interactions. And I probably didn't dwell on it enough, but... The birth of Moira's and Prema's relationship wasn't something I was expecting at all, yet I'm all in for it. It's true that I often insist on the good 'funny' interactions you manage to come up with, but your 'heartwarming' interactions are just as well-written. Romance isn't something we've seen much in your stories so far (except the brief bout with Atsuko and Carolyn), but I think it may be an interesting way to bring some things new in your stories.
As I've mentioned in the past, some of my favorite characters in your stories were the villains (Reka and her henchwomen; Lizéa, Tiffany, and Yuki). I found their bantering hilarious, and their personalities to be lively and interesting, due to how morally complicated they could be. While I can't always say I was rooting for them to succeed, I found them interesting to follow. But I understand that was partly my personal taste as well. I love complicated female villains (hence why I tried to give various personalities to the villains in this story), and can't always bring myself to give them downer endings.
I perfectly understand your point. Personally, I also enjoy writing the villains a lot, and they are often among my favorite characters in stories. I admit it, it's sometimes hard for me to give some of them a "bad ending", but in my opinion a good villain needs a good defeat. In that regards, I am rather of the 'Manichean old school'. I usually prefer it when the bad guys unambiguously lose at the end. (Lucina and Selena are huge exceptions in that regards, and that's mostly because they've been converted into gag characters.) I guess that I see bad people get away with what they do enough times in real life, so in fiction I like to imagine them getting their comeuppance...
I've certainly got plans for the next story, though I don't know when I will get around to it. (Hopefully sooner than later.) Writing these novel-length stories takes a lot of energy, so I will probably do something shorter next time. I have a couple of spin-off stories in early development, and I will probably end up writing them before I attempt another lengthy epic. As always, stay tuned.
Hopefully sooner than later indeed. I am 100% behind your decision to try writing shorter stories before another lengthy epic. 'Grasp all, lose all' after all, and I wouldn't want you to experience a burn-out. I'll stay tuned, as always.
In any case, I couldn't leave this chapter without letting Marina recite a few more cheesy jokes.
).
) In my opinion, the worst sentiment that a character can arouse is not dislike or anger, but apathy. To quote TV Tropes: "Some character archetypes work because they are conduits for Laser-Guided Karma. In other words, even if you hate the character, you still care about what happens to them, if only because you want to see them get their comeuppance. After all, the opposite of love is not hate, but apathy."