Well, about the Felicia-Bobbie fallout, it's more a personal feeling. Though I think I haven't been clear enough in my review, sorry about that. I wasn't talking about the foreshadowing or the fallout in general. The foreshadowing/build-up leading to it is great - there is a feeling of inevitability/ineluctability (but I'll develop the idea when the story is over and I talk in detail about some characters' developments ). It's with the "break up scene" itself that I have a problem. I think it's linked to the fact that the actual conversation is very short. In a way, after several volumes of build-up for this inevitable moment, the conversation felt anticlimactic because it was short and a bit low key - at least that's how I felt it. Perhaps having to wait for months before reading it tampered with my experience... Reading a story on the forum, with several weeks or months between each chapter, feels different from reading a book in one go, that's for sure! However, it looks like I'm the vocal minority as far as this topic is concerned.
Hopefully people won't have long to wait for the next chapter...
Now, these news are music to my ears... Good luck with the end of this volume. (Though I noticed how you said there will be "a couple of chapters". I swear, when you post your next chapter, I will wait... at least until, against my better judgement, I give in and read it anyway...)
That's fine, I knew you were just relaying your own opinion. And I can see where you're coming from - the scene between Felicia and Bobbi is quite short. It's partly an effect of the heat of the moment - the girls are both quite stressed and engaged in a dangerous operation, which doesn't necessarily bring out the best in them. Whether it does spell the end of their friendship remains to be seen.
rufusluciusivan wrote: ↑Wed Mar 15, 2023 8:06 pmNow, these news are music to my ears... Good luck with the end of this volume. (Though I noticed how you said there will be "a couple of chapters". I swear, when you post your next chapter, I will wait... at least until, against my better judgement, I give in and read it anyway...)
I'd say there are two chapters left in this story - one is the climax, and the other is the epilogue. The next chapter will be quite action-heavy, but should mostly resolve the main story of this volume, while the last chapter will be more character-focused and move things in place for the seventh and final volume. So don't worry, the next chapter probably won't end with the same type of cliffhanger as this one did.
Felicia stood rooted to the spot as the guard's finger curl on the trigger. She couldn't move, couldn't think.
"No!" Bridget stepped in front of Felicia, shielding her. "If you want to shoot her, you'll need to shoot me first."
The guard simply laughed. "Well, if you insist..."
With that, she pulled the trigger.
CLICK.
The guard looked down at her own gun in surprise. "What the hell...?"
Immediately, one of the guards standing behind her lashed out with her own gun, striking the blonde woman in the back of the neck. With an "Uurghh!" the woman pitched forward, unconscious.
The third guard whirled, surprised at the sudden turn of events. "What are you doing??"
She raised her own weapon, but was immediately hit with a neck chop from the fourth guard.
Bridget and Felicia stared down in surprise at the two unconscious guards on the ground, then back up to the two guards who still stood before them.
Felicia spoke first. "What... what's going on?"
The two guards laughed in easygoing unison. They re-holstered their weapons, then slid their helmet visors open.
"Surprise," one of them said.
"Hello again, Bridget," the other added.
Bridget looked back and forth between the two uniformed women. "Chandra... Sonja?"
"That's us," Chandra smiled. "Fancy meeting you again so soon."
Felicia stepped back in concern. "Don't touch us..."
Bridget rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Felicia, it's okay."
"Okay? Don't you remember these women? They teamed up with Dr. Chen... tried to kill us..."
"Water under the bridge," Chandra assured her. "Your friend Bridget is actually a pretty decent gal."
Felicia hesitated, but Bridget gave her a comforting nod. "Trust me, Felicia... I've had a busy night."
She turned back to Chandra and Sonja. "What are you two doing here? Why are you dressed as Caldwell's guards?"
"Our 'research' at the police station paid off," Chandra explained. "I was able to find and rescue Sonja... and I also dug up some info about the whereabouts of our former boss. Seems like Regina Caldwell has her hands in a lot of corporate pockets... and has kept close tabs on her former business associates."
"We decided to drop by her mansion to investigate further," Sonja continued. "Climbed over the vines curling up one of the brick walls about an hour ago. There were two guards positioned in the area... Unlucky for them! We used their uniforms to blend in."
"Then we stayed close to some other guards, trying to learn what info we could," Chandra finished. "At one point, to be on the safe side, I secretly took their weapons and removed the cartridges. We were going to dig further into the mansion when you showed up."
Bridget approached Chandra and wrapped her arms around her, bringing her in for a tight hug. Chandra looked surprised, but did not try to resist.
"Thank you," Bridget said softly. "You saved my life twice tonight."
"Well, I previously tried to kill you twice," Chandra chuckled. "So I hope this makes us even."
Felicia watched the two women embrace with a mixture of confusion and unease. What was going on? She cast a sidelong glance at Sonja.
Sonja smiled in response and held open her arms. "You want a hug too?"
Felicia gave her a strange look.
Bridget glanced down at the two unconscious guards. "Well, so long as we have the same objective - infiltrating this mansion - we may as well work together. I suppose we can make use of these two as well."
Chandra gestured in the direction of the nearby gardening shed. "Let's drag 'em in there. Their friends could use some company."
Chandra unlocked the door to the shed, and Sonja and Bridget dragged the two guards inside.
Bridget was not surprised to see two other athletic-looking women already seated in a corner of the shed, both semi-conscious and stripped to their underwear. One of them, a light-skinned woman with a short-cut ponytail of straw-blonde hair, wore a lavender sports bra and burgundy briefs. The other, a dark-skinned woman with her black hair in cornrows, sported a faded blue T-shirt bra and ochre bikini panties. Both women were bound with grey wiring and gagged with white duct tape.
"Our generous uniform donors," Chandra announced. "Thanks again, ladies... As a reward, we've brought your friends for company."
She and Sonja began stripping the two other guards. As they did so, Bridget glanced again at Felicia.
"You okay?" she said softly. "That woman was about to kill you..."
Felicia nodded. "I'm... I'm fine," she said, her voice quivering just a bit. "I've been in dangerous experiences before..." She glanced down at their new associates. "I guess I just never expected to be rescued by these two."
Bridget nodded. "Our lives have been so crazy as of late... It's made for some strange alliances." She eyed the unconscious guards. "You don't mind stealing another woman's uniform, do you?"
Felicia shook her head. "That bitch was about to kill me... She gets no sympathy. Getting tied up and gagged in her underwear is the least she deserves."
Bridget looked surprised for a moment. But she nodded understandingly.
Before long, the two guards joined their friends in a state of undress. The light-skinned blonde leader wore a midnight-blue comfort bra and orange high-cut panties. Her associate, a tan-skinned woman with shoulder-brushing chestnut-brown hair, was left in a neon-pink underwire bra and marigold lace panties.
"So much variety," Sonja mused. "So much color and imagination! This is what I love about stealing uniforms in America."
Chandra nodded as she reached for the duct tape. "I think I know what you mean."
**********************
Zuhal peeked around the corner. "Coast is clear. Come on."
She stepped gingerly down the hall, Bobbi following. Their maid disguises had been working so far, allowing them to infiltrate the mansion with little hassle. But with security cameras everywhere, they couldn't keep it up forever.
"This place is massive," Bobbi whispered. "How are we ever going to find Prema and Moira?"
Zuhal grinned. "Leave that to me."
She stopped outside a door marked "SURVEILLANCE ROOM," motioning for Bobbi to keep silent.
The door was slightly ajar. Zuhal peeked inside. The room was small and dimly lit, but well-furnished. One wall was lined with closed-circuit television monitors. A woman sat at the adjoining desk, her back to the door.
"Only one guard on duty," Zuhal whispered to Bobbi. "That's a stroke of luck. I'll take care of her. You keep watch."
The guard in question was tall and slender, with light skin and long cinnamon-brown hair that reached mid-back. She was dressed more standardly than the guards out front, with an aqua-blue button-down shirt, long black pants, leather black shoes, and a black baseball cap. She was engaged in a crossword puzzle and no paying too much attention to the monitors, but glanced up when she heard the door squeak open.
A woman in maid uniform stepped into the room, holding a cloth rag in one hand and a spray bottle in the other. She began polishing a side table in the corner.
An annoyed look crossed the guard's face. "Do you mind? I'm on duty here."
"No worries, ma'am," Zuhal said with a smile. "I am just here to clean... Make the room nice, yes?"
"Come back later," the guard said. "My shift doesn't end for another few hours, and I don't want to be distracted."
"The room will be very clean," Zuhal said, approaching the console and monitors. She held up the white cloth rag. "I use the finest ammonia. Here, smell it."
"I don't want to smell your rag... Go away before -- HMMMPPHH??"
The guard's facial reaction changed from annoyance to shock as Zuhal clamped the absorbent white cloth over her nose and mouth.
"Oh, silly me," Zuhal said blithely as the guard struggled in her grip. "I seem to have gotten my chemicals confused again. This isn't ammonia... It's chloroform. Oopsie!"
The guard tried to stand up, but Zuhal had leverage on her side, pinning the woman to her chair.
"Anyway, you can still breathe it in... It's a great scent. Total knockout," Zuhal chuckled.
The guard tried to reach the alarm button on her desk. Her finger stabbed outward, arm outstretched...
Then her arm flopped limply to her side, her reflexes now shutting down. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she exhaled softly as she slipped into unconsciousness.
"Sleep tight," Zuhal cooed. Then she turned back to the doorway. "Bobbi, come on in."
Bobbi entered the surveillance room, an impressed look on her face. "Wow. You took her out with no problems."
"Years of practice," Zuhal replied, lowering the slumbering guard to the floor.
Bobbi eyed the monitors. "This room should give us a layout of the whole mansion... Should be pretty easy to navigate now."
"That's the idea." Zuhal began unlacing the guard's shoes. "I'll take her position here, so no one suspects anything. You keep exploring the mansion. I'll give you coordinates once I figure out where your friends are."
"You sure you're be all right here?" Bobbi asked as she headed back for the door.
Zuhal looked surprised for a moment. "Wow... no one ever asks me that," she mused with a smile. "Yes, I'll be fine. And thanks."
Once Bobbi had left, Zuhal busied herself with relieving the guard of her uniform.
Her communicator link clicked on. "Zuhal, are you there?" The voice was Bridget's. "Have a status update?"
"Things are going pretty smoothly so far," Zuhal replied. "Bobbi and I are in the mansion. I've gained control of the surveillance room."
"Great." Bridget sounded relieved. "And I've got more good news - Felicia and I ran into a couple of potential allies. Turns out we're not the only ones infiltrating this mansion tonight."
"Awesome!" Zuhal smiled. "Sounds like we're... oh, dammit, no!"
"What's wrong?" Bridget could hear the horror in Zuhal's voice. "Are you okay? Is Bobbi hurt?"
"It's not that," Zuhal said sourly. She gazed down at the unconscious security guard. Beneath her uniform, the woman wore a Spartan white comfort bra and vanilla white bikini briefs.
"The guard whose uniform I'm stealing," Zuhal explained. "Her underwear is so goddamned boring."
Bridget sighed. "I don't think her underwear is relevant to the mission, Zuhal."
"But this happens all the time," Zuhal aid in exasperation. "Every security guard I mug has the most uninspired underwear. Somehow I always pick the most boring ones! Meanwhile, everyone else I talk to claims that the guards they mug have great underwear."
Another voice appeared in the comm-link. "She's right, Bridget," Sonja said. "Those guards we just mugged had very creative underwear... Such colorful and decorative bras and panties..."
Zuhal groaned. "So this only ever happens to me... I have the worst luck."
Bridget cut in again. "Zuhal, we can have a lengthy discussion about security guards and their underwear choices after this night is over. But for now, please keep your head focused on the present issues. Can you do that?"
Zuhal sighed, and nodded. "Yes, fine. Whatever."
"Okay... Can you see Moira and Prema on any of the monitors?"
Zuhal glanced at the monitor bank, scanning it intently. "I think I see something... Looks like a couple of figures tied up in a dark room... Maybe a basement."
"Great," Bridget replied. "We're heading there now."
********************
Skylar and Thea stood guard outside the small stone cabin - the one affectionately misnamed by some of Ms. Caldwell's employees as a "guesthouse" - sharing idle conversation.
"Awful quiet in there," Skylar remarked, cigarette in hand. The taller of the duo, she had light skin and a long sun-blonde ponytail that swished with her head's every movement. "Sounded like the prisoners were fighting earlier, but they've calmed down."
"Good on them," Thea replied, flipping through a magazine. She was only an inch or two shorter than her friend, but no less athletic, with bronze skin and frizzy dark brown shoulder-length hair. "Guess they've accepted that they won't live to see sunrise."
Both women were dressed in the custom full black body armor, helmets, and boots that most of Fernanda's security force wore, though Thea's uniform was a bit more faded - she had been a member of Ms. Caldwell's elite security team for nearly two years, while Skylar had only joined up within the past three months.
Between puffs on her cigarette, Skylar glanced at her watch. "What's taking so long? You'd think we'd have been given the okay by now... Why don't we just shoot them now?"
"Not till we get the all-clear," Thea cautioned. "Fernanda is very strict about having her orders followed to the letter. Trust me, you don't want to be the one who crosses her."
Skylar sighed. "Good thing this job pays well..."
Her musing was interrupted by the sound of a short, muffled scream from within the walls of the guesthouse, followed by a dull crash.
Skylar and Thea exchanged a quizzical glance. Then they approached the doorway.
"What's going on in there?" Skylar called.
"P-please help," one of the prisoners' voices came from within. "I... I think she's dead... Please..."
Skylar glanced at Thea again. "It could be a trick."
Thea unholstered her gun. "If it is, they'll be sorry."
Weapons drawn, the two guards unlocked the door and entered the guesthouse.
Evelyn lay slumped on the bed, facedown. She wasn't moving. Harper and Jenna stood off to one side, cowering fearfully.
"What happened?" Thea asked angrily.
"I... We don't know." Harper's voice was shaking. "She just... she just collapsed. She's not moving. I..."
Thea sighed. "Skylar, go wake her up. Be on your guard."
Then she leveled her gun at Harper and Jenna. "You two, keep your backs against the wall. No tricks, or I'll put a bullet in you."
Skylar cautiously walked over to the bed. Evelyn remained completely still, her chest not even moving with breath.
Skylar placed two fingers against Evelyn's neck. She frowned. "Hey, Thea... I'm not feeling a pulse." She turned to her fellow guard. "I think this woman is dead."
"What?" Thea turned to Skylar in surprise. She took her eyes off the other two prisoners for but a moment - but it was a moment that would quickly cost her.
Harper struck with the speed of a tigress, with a karate blow that knocked Thea's gun from her hands. Before the guard could react, Harper's fist had slammed into her stomach, doubling her up in pain.
"Hey!" Skylar whirled toward Harper, gun drawn. Before she could aim, however, she felt a hand grab her arm - Evelyn's hand.
"What?" Skylar froze as Evelyn rose to her feet. "How are you alive? I -- uurgh!"
Evelyn had wrapped an arm around Skylar's neck, constricting her in a tight sleeper hold.
"Old meditative trick," Evelyn explained. "Relaxing the body enough can allow for one's heartbeat to slow almost to a stop. Reflexively lowers one's body temperature, too. I'd explain further, but it seems you're already unconscious."
Indeed, the pressure of the sleeper hold had done its job on the security guard.
As Evelyn lowered the unconscious guard onto the bed, Harper approached her, smiling with satisfaction. "That was a neat trick, Eve. Well done."
"And a good performance by yourself as well," Evelyn noted. "I suppose we... Look out!"
Harper turned to see Thea, still semi-conscious on the ground, raising her gun and aiming it at her chest.
"Die, you stupid... Aargh!" Thea's cry was cut short as Jenna broke a chair over her head. She slumped unconscious to the floor.
Harper looked at Jenna in shock, then down at the guard who had nearly killed her, then back up to Jenna.
"Are you okay?" Jenna asked.
"I..." Harper was still a bit startled. "Yes... Thanks," she mumbled.
"Good work, Jenna," Evelyn smiled. "I knew we made a great team. Now come on, there's no time to lose. Jenna, keep an eye out for trouble while Harper and I get these guards out of their uniforms."
Jenna nodded and stepped back to the doorway. If she had any concerns about Evelyn's plan, she held her tongue.
Crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway, she stared out into the night sky. With all the chaos of the last few hours, she was thankful for a moment of peace, a moment to breathe in the quiet nighttime air and recollect herself.
But, she knew, it was only a moment. Her life had been in constant flux ever since that day a few weeks back at the airfield, when some infiltrating women had captured her and stolen her clothes. Before that day, her life had been calm and peaceful; now it was anything but.
Jenna thought back to her conversation with Ashley, the security guard who seemed to understand her predicament. "A good person," Ashley had called her. But Jenna didn't believe she was.
She was still wearing Ashley's security uniform, the one she had stolen - well, the one Ashley had allowed her to steal - a few hours earlier. The fabric had stretched to fit her body, but it still felt unnatural, as though the clothes had been specifically made for someone else. She felt sorry for Ashley, who was still probably bound and gagged in her underwear, back in the closet where Jenna had left her.
Jenna sighed as she thought of the other women whose clothes she had stolen, including in the last twenty-four hours. The deliverywoman. The secretary. The usherette. She didn't know their names, or indeed anything about them. But she knew they hadn't deserved what she had done to them. And she would never do it to another woman again.
But that wasn't enough. She had to do something to fight the rising culture of uniform theft, to take a stand in the name of women everywhere. But how? The mayor, based on what she had seen, did not seem like the type of politician who cared about such things. He probably wouldn't even glance at the file she'd left in his office.
Something brushed against Jenna's shoes - or, more specifically, Ashley's shoes. Jenna looked down to see a magazine on the ground. One of the guards had dropped it.
On a whim, she picked it up and began leafing through it. Her eye caught on one article, and she raised an eyebrow with interest.
Yes... this could be it.
"Jenna?"
Jenna turned around. Evelyn was standing there, with Harper right behind her. Both of them were now dressed in the uniforms of the two security guards.
"You ready to go?" Evelyn asked.
"Sure... sure. Just give me a minute."
"Okay... Harper, follow me."
Evelyn and Harper exited the small stone house. Jenna tore a page from the magazine, folded, it up, and slipped it into her pocket.
Before leaving, she glanced back into the room. The two real guards lay on the mattress, bound and gagged with white bedsheets. Skylar had been stripped to a blue comfort bra and matching bikini panties, while Thea wore a neon pink pair of sports bra and boyshorts.
Jenna did not feel sorry for these women - after all, they had imprisoned her and her friends, and nearly killed them. But glancing at them now, reduced to their underwear and tied up in humiliating fashion, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose. Even bad women did not deserve this sort of treatment.
"Jenna, you coming?" Evelyn called.
"Yes..." Jenna gave a last glance at the two guards, then exited the guesthouse and locked the door.
"Okay," Evelyn addressed her friends. "Now we need to get one more uniform for Jenna. I'll find another guard who's about her size, then lure her over to..."
"No!" Jenna interrupted. "I mean... do we have to? Can't I just play the part of the prisoner that you two are escorting out of the mansion grounds?"
Harper opened her mouth, prepared to direct a snide and cutting remark in Jenna's direction. Then she paused, and kept silent.
"All right," Evelyn said. "We don't need to steal any more uniforms. But keep your head low, and don't do anything to draw attention. With a little luck, we can sneak out of here with no problems."
At that moment, the radios clipped to Evelyn and Harper's stolen belts buzzed to life. "Skylar, Thea. Do you copy?"
The voice was Fernanda's. The women exchanged a glance. Then Harper picked up her radio.
"Yes, we copy." She spoke in her best imitation of Thea's voice. "What's up?"
"Just confirming you can go ahead and dispose of the three prisoners," Fernanda said. "Make sure their bodies are never found. And don't waste any time about it."
"...Sure. Yeah, boss." Harper shut off the radio.
Then she turned to Evelyn and Jenna. "God, that woman is a bitch."
"Be that as she may," Evelyn replied, "she doesn't suspect a thing. With a bit of luck, we may just escape before that changes."
******************
Fernanda poked her head into Ms. Caldwell's room. "All good, boss. Those three incompetent security guards have been taken care of."
"Thank you, Fernanda," Ms. Caldwell smiled. Then she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her fingers against her forehead. "My goodness... What an exhausting night this has been."
"Can I get you anything?" Fernanda asked. "Tea, coffee?"
"You're a dear, Fernanda," Ms. Caldwell chuckled. "I suppose I could use some tea. But I can't bother the head of my security team to brew it..."
"No trouble, ma'am. I'll just radio the kitchen. They'll send you up some refreshment."
"Perfect." Ms. Caldwell stretched her arms. "Oof... I've been sitting and working for too long tonight. Suppose I could also use a massage."
"Would you like me to phone the masseuses on staff? I believe they're still awake."
"If they're not awake, then wake them up," Ms. Caldwell replied. "Send them on the double."
*********************
Chandra and Sonja stepped lightly down the mansion hall, with Felicia and Bridget right behind them.
Their thick bootfalls, courtesy of the stolen security uniforms, were appreciatively muted by the thick woolen carpeting. Despite their disguises, the women still did not wish to draw undue attention to themselves.
Once they reached the main hallway, Chandra turned to Bridget and Felicia.
"This is where we split up... The basement corridor should be down that way. Go rescue your friends. Sonja and I will deal with Ms. Caldwell."
Bridget nodded. "Good luck. And... thank you again. Truly."
She stepped toward the corridor leading to the elevators. Sonja followed, while Bridget and Felicia headed off in the other direction.
"Still can't believe we're helping them," Sonja whispered to Chandra with a slight smile. "You're not growing soft, are you?"
Chandra chuckled and gave her a good-natured elbow in the ribs. "That's pretty rich, coming from a cop."
"Former cop," Sonja corrected her. "You know I turned in my badge years ago. It's more fun working outside the law."
"I know, I know," Chandra nodded. "But... Bridget Baxter isn't really 'the law' either, you know? Yeah, she claims to be a girl scout, but she breaks a lot of rules. Beats up plenty of civilian women and steals their clothes. I've got to respect her for that."
"I suppose," Sonja conceded. "Hey, speaking of clothes - are we heading up to Ms. Caldwell's room dressed like this? These security guard uniforms were fine when we were outside the mansion, but they'll start to look conspicuous once we get upstairs."
"Fair point," Chandra replied. "I'd say we're about due for a wardrobe change."
As they reached the elevator, the sound of footfalls alerted them. Someone - perhaps more than one someone - was heading their way down the corridor.
Chandra and Sonja exchanged a glance, then quickly ducked behind a pair of nearby marble pillars.
Two women entered the corridor, both tall and fit and firm. Both were dressed in white, loose-fitting athletic wear, consisting of T-shirts, yoga pants, and sneakers. Based on the names on their badges - Inga and Astrid - they appeared to be Scandinavian, with light skin and stern, angular features. Inga had sandy-brown hair tied back in a side bun, while Astrid's straight honey-blonde hair was cut into a chin-length bob.
Sonja noticed the towels the women were carrying as they headed for the elevator. "I think they're masseuses," she whispered.
Chandra grinned. "That'll do."
Inga pressed the button on the elevator. The two masseuses tapped their feet idly as they waited for the doors to open.
"Can you believe she wants us to work at this hour," Astrid grumbled.
"It's annoying," Inga agreed. "Good thing this job pays well."
"The only payment I want is a good night's sleep," Astrid replied. "Someplace quiet, where I can rest up for the next few hours."
"Wish granted," a voice said softly from behind them.
The two masseuses turned, and were startled to see two women in security uniforms standing behind them - with guns drawn and aimed right at them.
Astrid opened her mouth, presumably about to scream. But Chandra quickly raised a finger to her lips.
"Hush, dear. I assume you want to live to see another sunrise? If that's the case, I advise you to keep any noise to a minimum."
Astrid promptly closed her mouth and raised her hands, dropping her towels in the process. Inga did likewise.
"Great," Chandra smiled. "We're off to a magnificent start. Now, I trust you two are Mrs. Caldwell's personal masseuses?"
Both girls nodded, their eyes never wavering from the weapons pointed in their direction.
"Wonderful," Chandra said. "Let's make a deal, girls. How would you like to take the night off? Instead of slaving away at work tonight, you can sleep the night away."
"It's a special one-time offer," Sonja added. "And it can be yours, all for the low, low price of... your clothes!"
The masseuses looked at the two guards in fear and confusion.
Chandra glanced at Sonja. "I don't think they understand."
Sonja sighed. "No one appreciates our comedy."
Chandra turned back to the masseuses. "Just start marching toward that nearby closet. I know this seems a bit disorienting, but I promise it'll make sense in a few minutes."
Her assurances turned out to be correct - although a few minutes later, Inga and Astrid still did not feel very assured.
This was likely due to the fact that they were now seated on the musty floor of a broom closet, stripped out of their masseuse uniforms. Inga was left in a green comfort bra and maroon hipsters, Astrid was reduced to a peppermint-striped bikini bra and blue tap pants. Both women were also bound and gagged with some of the white towels they had been carrying.
They could now only stare helplessly as the two security guards - or at least, the two women who had been masquerading as security guards - now changed into their uniforms. Inga and Astrid didn't need more explanation to know they were being forcibly replaced - though they had no idea why.
Chandra smiled as she glanced down at the two masseuses. "You can always tell from a girl's facial expression when she's been mugged for her clothes for the first time," she noted. "Looks like both of you are newcomers to the process."
"It's been a pleasure doing business with both of you," Sonja added as she and Chandra exited the closet. "I hope you enjoy this special offer. Satisfaction guaranteed, or you get your clothing back!"
The masseuses didn't laugh. Sonja shrugged as she shut the door. "Well, I thought it was funny."
"We're not actually going to waste time giving them their clothing back," Chandra pointed out.
"I know, I know... Never mind"
*********************
Bobbi sighed to herself as she wandered down the mansion hallway. Despite the danger of her current situation, she couldn't help having her mind wander. Felicia's words still stung.
Perhaps they stung because they seemed so callous and dismissive - particularly since Bobbi had long thought of Felicia as her best friend. Certainly a lot had changed in recent months, but were divergent viewpoints about the nature of infiltrations really enough to rupture their friendship?
Or perhaps they stung because there was a ring of truth to them - that Bobbi was indeed growing too cold, too cruel. But her mind resisted grappling with this point.
Or perhaps Bobbi was simply upset for some other reason - like the fact that her shoes were a bit too small, and pinched with every step down the long hallway. That may not have been the primary source of her discomfort, but they certainly did little to help matters.
She needed something to distract her - something to take her mind off Felicia and cheer her up. But what?
As she rounded a corner, Bobbi heard a door opening, along with the sounds of whistling. She instinctively ducked into a nearby storage room.
Peeking through the door, Bobbi could see a young woman rounding the corner, wheeling a metal cart before her. The cart was adorned with a pot of tea, some cups, and two small bowls for cream and sugar.
The woman appeared to be a maid, dressed in light blue button-down blouse, black skirt with white apron, and soft black clogs. She had tanned skin, and her dark brown hair was tied back into a braided bun. She was whistling pleasantly to herself as she pushed the cart down the hall.
Bobbi quickly deduced that the maid was probably on her way to Ms. Caldwell, tasked with the delivery of some late-night refreshment. She also deduced that the girl was just about her equal in size.
Bobbi smiled to herself as she remembered Zuhal's assessment of her from earlier - it was true, stealing other women's clothes did help her cheer up. More importantly, she needed to get closer to Mrs. Caldwell to interrogate her about her friends, and masquerading as the tea girl was a perfect cover.
The maid didn't notice anyone spying on her as she passed by the storeroom door. But a moment later, her whistles were cut short by a sudden handgag.
"Mmpphh??"
Bobbi quickly yanked the surprised maid into the closet, then hit her with one of her patented neck chops. The maid groaned as she fell unconscious.
Bobbi locked the closet door for some privacy, then turned back to the maid on the floor, rubbing her hands with anticipatory glee. "Okay, darling, let's get you out of that unif--"
Then a frown creased her face. She stepped closer to the maid to ensure her suspicions were correct.
Bobbi sighed. It was true - the maid wore the same outfit that Bobbi did. The same uniform she had stolen from one of the unlucky maids outside. She had no reason to steal another uniform just like it.
Bobbi loved mugging other women, to be sure - but mugging a woman to replace her without actually stealing her uniform felt... wrong. Incomplete, somehow.
Still, Bobbi thought back to Felicia's stinging words from earlier. Though she hated to admit it, there was a grain of truth in Felicia's criticisms. Besides, they were on a dangerous mission now. Bobbi told herself she should feel happy that she didn't have to waste time stripping the maid and dressing in her clothes. I can just take the tea cart and get going.
But her eye fell on the maid's black clogs - thick-soled, closed-toe, no laces. They looked a bit closer to her size than the uncomfortable footwear she was currently wearing.
Bobbi brightened. She knelt down beside the woman and slipped off one clog, then the other.
She turned out to be correct - the new shoes were more comfortable. Bobbi felt better already.
The real maid she bound and gagged with twine and duct tape from the closet - barefoot but otherwise fully clothed.
"Consider yourself lucky," Bobbi told the still-unconscious maid. "Most women I come across barely escape with their underwear."
She smiled as she exited the closet and locked the door, whistling to herself as she pushed the tea cart down the hall - a different tune than the real maid, but no less jaunty.
And Felicia claims I don't have self-control...
*******************
Bridget and Felicia reached the basement doorway in a matter of minutes.
The entrance to the stairwell was guarded, to no surprise. The two officers stationed there had removed their helmets - against procedure, but Fernanda wasn't around to tell them that - but were otherwise fully clad in standard-issue black armor and boots. The guard on the left had light skin and pink-dyed hair that was combed to one side and closely shaved on the other. The guard on the right had bronze skin and golden-blonde hair that was tied back into a low ponytail.
Bridget saluted as she and Felicia approached - she wasn't sure if the guards here saluted each other, but knowing that many of them came from a military or naval background, it was probably a helpful detail. "Good evening, ladies," she said, adopting the professional tone she always took when disguised as a security guard. "I trust the prisoners have been well-behaved?"
The blonde guard nodded. "Haven't heard so much as a peep from them in the past hour," she commented.
"Maybe they fainted from fright," the pink-haired woman smirked. "They were awful scared when we tossed them in the basement."
Felicia took an instant dislike to this woman.
"Well, we were sent to ask them some questions," Bridget continued, not breaking character. "Standard interrogation procedure. Would you mind unlocking the door?"
The two guards exchanged a glance. "No one told us about interrogations," the blonde commented.
"I was hoping we would get to do that stuff," her friend added, visibly annoyed.
"Just following orders," Bridget said. "If you don't like it, you can take it up with Fernanda."
Both guards momentarily paled. Neither one relished the idea of raising an objection with their steely-eyed boss.
The blonde unlocked the door. "Go on in. They're just down the stairs and to the left."
Bridget nodded. "Thank you, ladies."
"Be sure to save some for us," the blonde said with a chuckle.
Bridget and Felicia trooped down the stairs, their boots creaking against the wooden steps.
"You know," Felicia whispered, "you're kind of scary in some of these disguises. Like, I totally bought you as a tough, no-nonsense guard up there."
Bridget's eyes gleamed behind her visor. "Years of training, Felicia. I took a few acting classes in my youth. I may never win an Oscar, but the skills sure come in handy."
They reached the foot of the stairwell. In the dim lighting, they could see two women huddled in the corner of the room, both trembling.
As Bridget and Felicia approached the two women, Prema suddenly stood up, a brash scowl on her face.
"Don't touch her! Do what you want with me, but leave Moira alone!"
"Prema, don't do this," Moira said. "I'll be okay... I'm not afraid of these creeps."
"Well, that's hurtful," Bridget deadpanned.
Prema and Moira both grew abruptly silent, then stared in shock as Bridget and Felicia flipped open their visors to reveal their grinning faces beneath.
"Peek-a-boo," Bridget added.
"Oh my god... you made it!" Prema immediately ran forward and wrapped her arms around Bridget in a tight hug. "I wasn't sure you got the signal."
"I'm glad we did... Ouch!" Bridget winced. "Don't squeeze so hard, this body armor isn't made for hugging."
An elated Moira embraced Felicia. "I'm so glad you guys showed up... How'd you get past all this security?"
"We had help," Felicia admitted. "But that's not important now - we need to get both of you out of here."
"Sounds like a plan," Moira agreed. "I assume we'll need disguises?"
Bridget nodded. "Those two guards at the top of the stairs... Their uniforms should fit you well enough."
********************
Sonja and Chandra reached the top floor of the mansion with little incident.
There was one fancy-looking set of double doors at the far end of the hall, with a tough-looking security guard stationed right outside.
"What if she gets suspicious?" Sonja whispered. "We don't quite look like the women we replaced - and no offense, but you don't exactly look Scandinavian."
The tan-skinned, dark-haired Chandra gave her a knowing look. "Keep cool, Sonja. Remember, stealing uniforms is about more than looking the part - it's about playing the part."
Sonja nodded. "And also about colorful underwear."
Chandra smirked. "That too."
The two women approached the doors. The guard eyed them as they approached. She wasn't just any guard - the badge on her chest read "SECURITY CHIEF."
"Mrs. Caldwell requested a massage?" Chandra said politely, doing her best North European accent. "Here we are."
The guard seemed to intently eye the two women before her for what seemed like several hours, but in reality couldn't have been more than five seconds.
Then she knocked on the door and opened it a crack. "Boss, the masseuses are here."
"Thank you, Fernanda," came the reply. "Send them in."
Chandra and Sonja walked through the open doorway, trying to ignore the ice-cold look that Fernanda gave them before shutting the door.
Mrs. Caldwell was already lying on her massage table, facedown. She looked up only briefly to glance in the direction of the two newcomers. "Well, don't just stand there dawdling. Get to work."
Chandra and Sonja exchanged a glance, then stepped toward the prone woman. Sonja cracked her knuckles, then began to gently massage the woman's shoulders.
"Ah, there we go," Mrs. Caldwell sighed. "Just like that, thank you."
Meanwhile, Chandra approached Mrs. Caldwell's desk and sat down in front of her laptop.
"It's been such a stressful day," Mrs. Caldwell sighed. "I can't believe the idiots I need to put up with. I swear, someday I... URK!!"
She let out a gasp as Sonja abruptly hit a pressure point, freezing her in place. She was conscious, but immobile - her joints felt stiff, her limbs leaden.
"What... what..." She could speak, but her voice was quavering. "What did you do?"
"Old fighting trick I picked up in Russia," Sonja explained. "Haven't used it in years, but it still works. Now, my dear Mrs. Caldwell, if you want to move your limbs again, you will give us the information we need."
"You..." Mrs. Caldwell gasped. "You're not my masseuses."
"I see you're catching on," Sonja grinned. "No, I'm a former police agent and my friend is an expert computer hacker. She can get past some of the firewalls on your computer, but she needs your passwords to avoid tripping any alarms. So why don't you be a dear and provide them for us?"
"And while you're at it," Chandra added, "why not tell us everything you know about Lucille Weldon-Grant..."
****************
The two guards were still stationed at the basement door when they heard a knock from within.
They opened it to find a woman they assumed to be one of their coworkers, but was in fact still Felicia in disguise.
"The prisoners are being reluctant and won't answer questions," Felicia said stoically. "Do you think you could help us... persuade them?"
The pink-haired guard grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."
The blonde rolled her eyes with a smile. "Aurora's been itching for action all night."
The two guards followed Felicia down the creaky steps and into the dimly lit basement.
The pink-haired guard, Aurora, stepped past Felicia, hefting a club in her hand. "Well, where are they?" She glanced around. "We left them tied up in the corner."
Behind her, the blonde guard placed a hand on her weapon. She couldn't quite explain, but something felt... off about the situation. She took a step back, toward a nearby storeroom doorway.
She did not notice the hand snake out from within the doorway, at least not until it had clamped over her mouth. With a confused grunt, she was pulled into the storeroom.
Aurora turned at the sound. "Jamie? Where are you?"
But her partner was gone. So was Felicia - Aurora was left alone.
Or... was she? The guard turned suddenly at the sound of rushing wind.
THWACK! Prema clobbered her in the temple, hard as she could. Aurora pitched forward to the ground.
"That's for locking us up, you twisted bitch," Prema growled.
But Aurora was not the type to be felled by a single punch. She kicked out hard, catching Prema's ankle with the steel toe of her boot. Pain shot up Prema's leg, and her knees buckled. She fell to the floor.
"You insolent little slut." Aurora pulled out her gun and pointed it at Prema's head. "Say your last prayers."
Prema froze, her blood running cold. She wanted to move, but her muscles were rooted to the spot.
CRASH! A wooden chair over Aurora's head jarred Prema back to reality. She watched the pink-haired guard faceplant to the ground, unconscious.
Moira stood over her, broken pieces of chair in hand. She gave a concerned look at Prema. "Are you okay?"
In that instant, Prema felt the feeling return to her limbs. She leaped to her feet and embraced Moira, planting a long, passionate kiss on her lips.
The two women stood this way for several long seconds, which felt like effortlessly blissful ages. They only stopped when they noticed they were being watched.
Bridget and Prema, having dispatched the second guard, were now standing and staring at their two friends with somewhat surprised expressions on their faces.
Prema pulled away from Moira. "Um... I mean, that is..."
"We, er..." Moira could feel herself blushing.
"There's no need to explain," Bridget said, giving an understanding smile. "I get it... and I'm really happy for you two."
Felicia nodded. "Congrats, you guys."
Moira beamed. "Thanks."
Prema glanced around. "So, er... should we be getting out of here?" She still seemed a bit flustered, albeit less so than before.
Bridget nodded. "Come on, let's get you two into your disguises."
Before long, Prema and Moira were strapping on the custom black body armor and lacing up their tall black boots. The retrieved helmets, with visors pulled downward, would help obscure their identities long enough to escape.
Meanwhile, Bridget and Felicia got to work tying and gagging the real guards. Aurora, in her bubblegum-pink sports bra and orange tanga panties, and Jamie, in her boysenberry T-shirt bra and vanilla French cut panties, remained appreciably unconscious as their limbs were bound with blue cables and their mouths gagged with grey cloths.
"That should hold them." Bridget stood up and dusted herself off. "Is everyone dressed and ready?"
Moira gave a thumbs-up. "Let's get the hell out of here... Though confidentially, I wouldn't mind paying the owner of this mansion a little visit."
"We have some friends taking care of Ms. Caldwell," Bridget assured her. "Our priority now is getting out of here in one piece."
Prema nodded, then paused. "Where's Bobbi?"
Bridget and Felicia exchanged a glance.
******************
Bobbi rolled the tea cart down the long hallway, maintaining an air of calm and composure all the while. As she had learned over the course of her infiltration-laden career, it was important to look as though you belonged in the job you had appropriated, tailor-made in the uniform you had stolen.
She approached the large double doors and the imposing woman who stood guarding it.
"Tea for the boss," she smiled.
Fernanda glanced down at the tea cart, then looked back up at Bobbi. She stared at the young woman for several long seconds.
"How long have you worked here?" she asked coldly.
"Just started a few weeks ago," Bobbi replied. That was her standard response to the question whenever she was undercover. It usually worked and discouraged further questioning from those who did not recognize her in the environment she was infiltrating.
Fernanda stepped toward Bobbi, her brow furrowing. "We haven’t hired any new maids in the past six months."
Bobbi gulped inwardly, eyeing the large gun strapped to Fernanda’s thigh. "Well, it felt like a few weeks. I guess time flies when you work here…"
Fernanda glanced down, her eyes settling on Bobbi’s feet. "Are those… clogs?"
Bobbi looked down herself. "Er…" She was unsure how to answer.
"Those shoes are against regulations," Fernanda said sternly. "Only one maid who works here – Diana, her name is – is allowed to wear shoes like that, for her sensitive feet. Everyone else wears the standard maid uniform shoes."
Fernanda stepped closer to Bobbi. "You didn’t happen to mug Diana and steal her uniform, did you?"
Bobbi shook her head, a bit too rapidly. "No… of course not." It was the truth – she had not stolen Diana’s uniform, apart from the shoes – but she could no longer hide her nervousness.
Fernanda pulled out her gun and pointed it at Bobbi. With her free hand, she grabbed Bobbi’s arm in a viselike grip.
"Don’t lie to me, stupid girl," she growled. "You don’t really work here… And if you don’t start being truthful, you’ll never work anywhere else again."
*********************
"How much longer?" Sonja asked, glancing at her watch once again. "We can't stay here forever."
"Nearly done... just make sure our friend stays quiet," Chandra replied, not looking up from the computer.
"You... bitches..." Caldwell growled, still unable to move. "You won't... get away... with this..."
Sonja patted her on the head. "Sounds like you're pretty stressed. Perhaps you could use a massage... but of course, we've tied up your masseuses." She chuckled.
At that moment, the door burst open. Fernanda stormed in, dragging a struggling Bobbi by the arm.
"Ma'am, urgent news! I've discovered an imposter in..."
She stopped midsentence and stared at the situation before her. Chandra and Sonja stared blankly back.
From her frozen spot on the massage bed, Caldwell struggled to speak. "Fernanda... kill... them..."
Without a moment's hesitation, Fernanda pitched Bobbi to one side, then swiftly unholstered her weapon.
Chandra and Sonja dove for cover behind the large four-poster bed as the bullets started flying. Bobbi managed to roll behind a nearby dresser.
Fernanda trained her gun back and forth between the bed and dresser. "There's nowhere to run, girls. Might as well come out and face your deaths like brave women."
"No thanks." Chandra pressed the gun she had earlier taken from another guard against the mattress, aimed in Fernanda's direction, and fired. The bullet tore through wood and bedding and flew onward, hitting Fernanda right in her metal-armored chest.
Fernanda let out an expulsion of breath and fell to the floor. The combination of mattress pressure and body armor had spared her life, but she still had the wind knocked out of her. Her helmet lolled to one side, and her dark hair spilled out over her face.
Chandra and Sonja took advantage of their moment, bounding from their hiding place. Sonja scooped up Fernanda's gun.
"Dangerous woman," Chandra observed, kneeling down before her. "We'll need to tie her up before she regains consc-- Ugghh!"
Fernanda's steel-toed boot slammed into Chandra's chest. She went down, moaning.
Sonja whirled, gun in hand, but a moment too soon. Fernanda's fist crashed into her chin.
Chandra and Sonja lay stunned on the ground as Fernanda got to her feet. She clutched her gun in hand, an ugly snarl on her face. "Now, which one of you dies first?'
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bobbi. The young woman was trying to reach for Chandra's gun, but froze when she saw Fernanda train her sights on her.
"Guess you're as good a place to start as any," Fernanda grinned, leveling her weapon.
THWUNK!
The metal vase bounced squarely off Fernanda's helmet-less head. She froze for a moment - then, with a groan, lost consciousness and sagged to the floor.
Zuhal stood over the unconscious woman triumphantly. "Boy, that felt good."
Bobbi quickly shook off her sense of shock and got to her feet. "Zuhal, you're amazing. Thank you."
"All in a day's work," Zuhal grinned. "I saw you on the monitors and figured you could use some help. Looks like I was right."
Chandra and Sonja stood up as well. Sonja glanced down at the unconscious Fernanda. "Can we wake her up? I want to punch her lights out again."
"No time for that, I'm afraid," Chandra remarked. "We need to get out of here. That gunshot is going to put this place on lockdown."
She returned to Caldwell's computer and removed her flash drive. "I've got all the information we need. Let's move."
"You'll... never get out... of here..." Caldwell's senses were still slowed, but her speech was recovering. "My guards... will shoot you... before you leave... the building..."
Zuhal glanced at Caldwell's prone body. "What's her problem?"
Sonja smiled. "She needs to loosen up."
"Well, she's got a point," Chandra commented. "The noise has probably alerted security. We can't just walk out of here... Not dressed as maids and masseuses, anyway."
Bobbi grinned. "I like where this is headed."
As if in response to her comment, a knock came at the bedroom's double doors.
"Ms. Caldwell?" a woman's voice called out from the other side. "Is everything okay in there?"
Bobbi winked at her associates. "You guys hide. I'll take care of this."
She approached the door and opened it to see two security guards on the other side.
"Is Ms. Caldwell all right?" the taller guard asked, eyeing the petite maid before her.
She had light skin and sandy blonde hair that brushed her shoulders. Her associate was only an inch or two shorter, with olive skin and black hair in a military bun. Both women were decked out in standard dark blue Kevlar suits of body armor and knee-high thick-soled black boots.
"Thank goodness you've come," Bobbi said worriedly. "Madame was so frightened... There was a mouse!"
"A... mouse?" the brunette guard asked.
"Yes, yes," Bobbi trembled. "The guard tried to shoot it, but it ran under the bed. We are so scared."
The blonde guard sighed. "All this for a mouse..."
"Please help," Bobbi continued. "Ms. Caldwell will probably give a juicy bonus to whomever catches the creature..."
The two guards exchanged a glance and smiled. Bobbi could practically see the dollar signs in their eyes.
"We'll take care of it," the blonde said, elbowing her way past Bobbi into the room. "It shouldn't take long."
"Catching mice is easy," the brunette guard commented as she stepped into the room. "You just need to set a trap."
Bobbi grinned as she locked the door behind them. "I just did."
The guards were stunned to see Ms. Caldwell lying motionless on the massage bed and Fernanda unconscious on the floor.
They were even more stunned when Chandra and Sonja pounced on them.
*******************
Despite the guards' military training, it wasn't much of a fight. Chandra and Bobbi were soon dressing themselves in freshly acquired security uniforms.
The unconscious blonde guard wore a mango full-cup bra and bright blue knickers, while the brunette wore a teal cami bra and cherry-red hipster panties.
Zuhal smiled as she tore up some white bedsheets to use as restraining material. "Finally," she chortled. "Finally, some security guards with imagination to their underwear! It's an honor for me to bind and gag women of such exquisite taste."
"You're lucky," Sonja commented from nearby as she strapped on her own security uniform. "This woman has no imagination at all."
She pointed down at Fernanda, who was already bound and gagged with bedsheets. The Latina guard wore a plain vanilla-white T-shirt bra and matching bikini panties.
"Disappointing," Sonja sighed. "I thought most guards had more imagination than that."
"I'm surprised they had any imagination at all," Zuhal responded. "Most of the guards I've mugged over the years have the plainest underwear ever."
"I guess it depends on the individual guard," Bobbi noted. "Some women prefer some color on their job, others prefer to keep it business. We shouldn't stereotype female security guards by their underwear choice - different guards have different preferences, like all women."
Sonja nodded. "Good point."
Zuhal smiled. "You're a smart girl, Bobbi."
Bobbi beamed.
"While I would love to continue this deep and thoughtful discussion about the bras and panties of security guards," Chandra interrupted, "I think it's best we get out of here. Let's hustle, girls."
As they exited the room, Sonja glanced back at Ms. Caldwell. "So... are we just gonna leave her like that? Eventually she'll recover, but she'll still be free to terrorize and kidnap again."
"Don't worry about her," Chandra smiled. "While hacking into her files, I emailed some of the more... interesting info I found to the local authorities. I estimate the police will be here in about twenty minutes, and have some very tough questions for our dear friend Caldwell."
Simon4242: Karma comes in different forms for different characters... And there was a bit of it for some wicked characters in this chapter.
Esercito: I figured you'd like the scene with Bobbi and the clogs. I find the different reactions to her character interesting - she can be polarizing, but I try to make her sympathetic and her motivations understandable ("stealing clothes to cheer up" is indeed an understandable motive on this board ).
Now that the next part is out, I understand why you said you wouldn't have done such an abrupt cliffhanger at the end of the previous part, and only ended that way because of the size limit of the posts. Indeed, the payoff was incredibly unsatisfying... Though I guess it makes up for it with good comedy. When the CLICK is heard, I can almost hear the sad trombone music... Poor guard. Plus, Sonja's quip a little later. "You want a hug too?" Perfect comedic timing...
Nothing much to say. As you announced, this was a straightforward action-packed chapter. I admit the last third is the part in which I was truly caught up in the story - the moment in which Bobbi is identified by Fernanda as an impostor, and brought in front of Caldwell... only for Fernanda to discover Sonja and Chandra, and for a battle to ensue. Such twists and turns are the best aspects of the interwined storylines: When the climax happens, there's a festival of twiss. The previous parts were well-written, as always, but felt a lot more classic: prisoners who escape and turn the tables, last-minute rescue of kidnapped victims...
Fernanda was a cool antagonist, if minor. Gotta appreciate a villainess smart enough to spot impostors AND strong enough to put up a fight against 3 opponents...
I don't know if this was intentional or not, but I noticed a pattern of the victims of this part being very bad at their job and/or very genre blind. Doing crosswords and not paying attention... Falling for the obvious 'She's sick'-trick (technically a variation of it) without warning their higher-ups... Tempting fate by saying things such as: "The only payment I want is a good night's sleep. Someplace quiet, where I can rest up for the next few hours."... WHISTLING... Or believing the mouse story and being blinded by greed...
That scene with the masseuses... Chandra and Sonja have their own comedy show they've been working on. Go see it. Support their dream.
Chandra glanced at Sonja. "I don't think they understand."
Sonja sighed. "No one appreciates our comedy."
I can reassure you, some people do. They simply don't live in the same plane of existence.
That's it for now. I don't have much more to say. The epilogue is nearing, so as always I'll keep my thoughts about the story and the character developments in general for that.
I'll end with the on-the-spot reactions I had about two specific moments...
Thea's cry was cut short as Jenna broke a chair over her head. She slumped unconscious to the floor.
And his name is... JOHN CENA! (loud music starts blaring)
CRASH! A wooden chair over Aurora's head jarred Prema back to reality. She watched the pink-haired guard faceplant to the ground, unconscious.
Goodness. It's a recurring theme!
Now, that's truly it. Good luck with the epilogue.
I really love Bobbi. It's really the best character in the saga in my opinion.
I hope she can make peace with Felicia, but even if she doesn't she has Zuhal and Bridget. Sad to say, but sometimes we lose old friendships. It's part of life
Rufusluciusivan: Yes, the abrupt cliffhanger was not my preferred "commercial break" for the last part, but it worked well for spacing conditions. And it does indeed make for some good comedy.
I admit I don't love writing action-packed climaxes as much as I do the more character-based or infiltration-heavy stretches, but I tried to give the end of this chapter a real feel for danger and suspense. And try to intertwine a lot of different threads to add to the unpredictability.
Fernanda was great fun to write - she's evil but not dumb, and quite capable in battle.
It's true, Ms. Caldwell's employees aren't very smart. But what they lack in brains, they make up for in fighting experience... or they would, if they hadn't been so easily taken down before they could fight. Oh well...
Chandra and Sonja were the most fun part of this chapter for me. I enjoy writing their comedic banter - they're working with the "good guys" now but they're still hardly paragons of morality.
The chair-over-head theme may have popped up once too often this chapter... I was going to have Fernanda taken out in a similar way, but I didn't want to make it feel too routine, so Zuhal ends up clobbering her with a vase. Some variety.
Thanks for your comments. No promises, but I'll try to have the epilogue out within the next couple of weeks.
Saker: Glad you like Bobbi. I do like using her and Felicia to explore the tensions of friendship, which can be stretched too far and broken. Helps make the characters more relatable.
I wasn't talking about the foreshadowing or the fallout in general. The foreshadowing/build-up leading to it is great - there is a feeling of inevitability/ineluctability (but I'll develop the idea when the story is over and I talk in detail about some characters' developments 
). It's with the "break up scene" itself that I have a problem. I think it's linked to the fact that the actual conversation is very short. In a way, after several volumes of build-up for this inevitable moment, the conversation felt anticlimactic because it was short and a bit low key - at least that's how I felt it. 
