Spacesuit, Vol. 6: A Woman Scorned

[tirepanted3]

It had been a busy night for Chandra. And it was not over yet.

Following the bomb scare, she had tried to speak to the shaken Bridget, but the latter woman was clearly not interested in further conversation. With her car destroyed, she had opted to take the bus home - straight home, in fact, as soon as possible.

This was fine with Chandra, who still had her own agenda to deal with. Nevertheless, she couldn't help feeling somewhat unfulfilled as she watched Bridget head for the bus stop, still trembling but trying to keep her composure. Chandra had seen Bridget face deadly danger before, but this seemed like more of a jolt than even she had been used to.

Still, once Bridget had disappeared into the night, Chandra returned to the task at hand - following the lead she had uncovered from the police station and, hopefully, finding Sonja.

*****

The building in question was an old, seemingly abandoned tire factory that had been shut down in the early 1990s. Its grey stone walls were worn and its cracked windows were coated with grime. Situated at a quiet end of town, it was about as isolated as a large building could be - or so it would appear.

The sign that all was not as it in fact seemed with this factory was the security surrounding it - tough, athletic, authoritative-looking women, with crossed arms and set jawlines. These women were identical not merely in physical stature and in their Russian nationality, but in dress - they all wore white sweaters, grey slacks, and white ankle boots, and all had pistols strapped to their thighs.

Chandra did not know why an old tire factory would require such security - but she had a hunch that it was worth exploring. So it was that she was now crouched in the bushes behind the factory, searching for a means of ingress.

The front of the building had two security guards. The rear, however, had only one guard stationed at the exit. The fourth guard, as it turned out, had come down with a case of the flu earlier in the week, and was thus unable to patrol. This left the remaining rear guard alone at her station for the night - and that suited Chandra just fine.

The guard in question was tall and broad-shouldered, with light skin and sandy blonde hair tied back into a merciless bun. Her boots crunched against the leaf-strewn ground as she paced back and forth in her area, keeping an eye out for any signs of suspicious activity.

The guard's facial expression betrayed her boredom - she had been pacing for hours, with no action or incident. She hoped her fellow guard would get well soon; patrol was rather boring without her.

Halfway lost in thought, the Russian guard wandered just a bit too closely to the bushes, not noticing the presence within... at least not before she could do anything about it.

With the speed and silence of a jungle cat, Chandra sprang up from the bushes, wrapping a thick and muscular arm around the guard's neck, and clamping her free hand over the woman's mouth. The guard's eyes bulged in surprise, but she could utter little more than a muted "hhmmmpphhh??" before she was roughly swallowed up by the bushes.

The foliage rustled and shook for several protracted seconds, as Chandra made short work of the unlucky Russian. Then, all grew silent and still once more.

Minutes later, Chandra rose from the bushes, dressed in the guard's sweater, slacks, and boots. She was currently tying her hair back into a tight bun, the sort of hairstyle that the women in this complex all seemed to favor, using the scrunchie stolen from the guard's hair. The guard's gun now rested against her thigh.

The real guard lay behind the bushes, unconscious and disheveled, her blonde hair now strewn over her face. She wore nothing but a white sports bra and matching bikini panties. Her hands were tied with thick grey twine and her mouth was gagged with black tape.

"That's some boring-ass underwear, girl," Chandra muttered, glancing back at the guard. "I worked hard to mug you - the least you could do is show some creativity in your fashion."

Still, she remembered Sonja's comments - Russian women were not the most inventive or stylish when it came to underwear choice. Chandra shrugged and stepped toward the rear building entrance. She used a passkey from the woman's belt to unlock the door.

The inside of the factory was more impressively well-furnished than the outside. Machines buzzed along the dimly-lit walls, cracks of light appeared behind closed office doors. There was no question that this "abandoned" factory was abandoned no longer.

The dim lighting irritated Chandra's eyes, but it also may have helped keep her disguise intact. The people she passed - most wearing attire similar to her own, with some clad in more professional body armor - did not get a very close look at her face, and thus had no reason to suspect she wasn't one of them.

Still, Chandra knew she was working on borrowed time. And this factory was huge - three stories up, and who knew how many levels below. Even if Sonja was being stashed here, it would take ages to find her.

Chandra was considering her options as she turned a corner, and nearly bumped into another woman - a guard, but dressed more imposingly, in black body armor - Kevlar vest, pants, knee-high laced boots, and helmet. She had light skin and bleached blonde hair, cut short just below her ears.

"Excuse m--" Chandra started to say instinctively. Then she froze, remembering that she was posing as a Russian guard, and probably shouldn't be speaking English.

The guard gave her a strange look. Then she said something in what Chandra assumed to be Russian. It sounded like a question.

Shit. Chandra had picked up a few basic Russian words and phrases from Sonja, but she was still far from fluent in the language.

The guard's brow furrowed in suspicion. She said something else in Russian, more forcefully than the previous comment.

Chandra felt herself beginning to sweat. "Er... da. Harasho?"

The guard took a step toward Chandra, trying to get a closer look at her.

Screw this. Chandra pulled out her gun and pointed it at the woman's head.

"Don't know if you understand English, doll," she said stoically. "But I assume this needs no translation."

Chandra's assumption was correct. The guard's eyes widened, and she raised her hands in surrender.

"Good." Chandra was already starting to feel more at ease. "Now tell me, where can I fins Sonja?"

The guard's response was trembling and pleading - but still in Russian. Chandra sighed. Interrogation wouldn't get her anywhere.

She glanced around, her eye settling on a nearby supply closet.

She pointed. "Into the closet," she told the woman.

The guard looked at her in confusion. She started to say something else.

"Honey, I don't have time to fetch a translator," Chandra interrupted. "Get in the closet, now." She pointed again, and gave the woman a slight shove to move her along.

With a sour expression on her face, the guard stepped into the closet. Chandra followed, closing the door behind them.

"Take your clothes off," Chandra said, keeping the gun trained on the guard.

The blonde gave her a confused look.

Chandra sighed. "Your uniform, take it off. I want to wear it." She pointed at the guard's boots. "Start with the footwear, then work your way up."

The confused guard pointed to her boots, then to the rest of her uniform. Then she looked back at Chandra.

Chandra nodded. "That's right... You may not understand my words, but I'm sure you get my meaning."

Scowling, the guard bent down and began unlacing her boots.

Chandra smiled. "Good girl."

******

The laundry van pulled up to the entrance to the Caldwell mansion. Evelyn presented her ID to the gate guard, who promptly waved them inside.

Fernanda was waiting for them on the front steps, her arms crossed.

"Took you long enough," she commented as the three women stepped out of the van. "Did you girls stop for burgers or something?"

Jenna wanted to respond, perhaps deliver a cutting remark of her own, but a glance at the gleaming SIG Sauer at Fernanda's hip made her think twice.

Harper seemed more willing to deliver a retort, but Evelyn stopped her by speaking first.

"We have the women, as ordered," she said. "Where would you like them brought?"

"My girls will take it from here," Fernanda replied.

At her signal, two other uniformed security guards stepped from the shadows. They stepped around to the rear of the van and retrieved the bound-and-gagged figures of Moira and Prema. The two women were just beginning to stir from unconsciousness.

Fernanda smiled as she glanced down at Moira. Then she looked over at Prema and her brow furrowed.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"That's Bridget Baxter," Evelyn responded.

Fernanda pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through some photos. She settled on a photo of Bridget. She glanced back up at Prema, then back down at the photo.

"You idiots," she addressed Evelyn, Harper, and Jenna. "You absolute morons."

"Hey, watch who you're talking to," Harper said angrily. She stepped forward, but then noticed a nearby guard placing her hand on her holster, and kept still.

"This isn't Bridget Baxter, you clowns," Fernanda continued, holding up the phone with the photo. "Didn't you study the pictures in advance?"

Evelyn felt the color drain from her face. "I... We thought... We saw Moira, and assumed the woman she was with..."

"Spare me your excuses," Fernanda said dismissively. "I'm sure Ms. Caldwell will love to hear about this."

"Let us try again," Evelyn said, trying to regain her composure. "I promise we can capture Bridget, just give us another few hours..."

Fernanda chuckled. "Guess we'll have to talk that over with Ms. Caldwell," she said. "Though I can assure you she doesn't take kindly to people who make mistakes."

Evelyn nodded. "Okay, well... Let us know what she says. We need to get going..."

She turned to leave, but two other guards now stood behind her and her friends, blocking their path.

"I didn't say you could go," Fernanda continued. "This was a serious job, and you've screwed it up royally. We'll need to discuss what to do about it... and in the meantime, we'll need to keep you on the premises."

"This is bullshit," Harper spat. "You can't keep us here against our will."

Fernanda laughed. "We can... and we will."

Harper scowled, but had no response. She and her friends were outnumbered and outmatched.

"Please," Jenna piped up. "We're all girls here, right? And girls need to stick together. We shouldn't be turning against each other..."

"I'm not interested in your feminist lectures, dear," Fernanda responded tersely. "And I never liked you, anyway."

She turned to the two muscular guards standing behind the trio. "Skylar, Thea. Escort our three friends to one of the guesthouses behind the mansion. Make sure to keep watch over them tonight, and make sure they get some sleep." There was an unmistakable gleam in her eye.

"But..." Evelyn's protest was cut short as the two armed guards stepped forward, motioning her to move.

Fernanda watched with unmistakable satisfaction as the three women were led away. Then she turned back to the restrained figures of Moira and Prema, who had by now awoken and were glancing around fearfully.

Fernanda rubbed her hands together. "Now, what shall we do with you two...?"

*******

Now clad in full body armor, Chandra fitted the helmet over her hair, buckling the strap around her chin. She then bent down and began lacing up the thick black boots.

"Mmrrrpphhh!" The angered sounds came from the real Russian guard, seated on the floor beside her. The blonde wore nothing more than a vanilla-white sports bra and beige hiphuggers. She was bound with thick blue flex and gagged with a red kerchief.

"Hhmpphh!" The guard struggled against her bonds. "Mmmpphh, mmrrrppphh!"

Chandra chuckled. "Isn't that nice... You're finally speaking a language I'm familiar with."

She stood up and dusted herself off. "Your gear fits me pretty well... So glad we crossed paths."

"Mmmrrrmmm!!"

"Well said, darling, well said." Chandra patted the woman on her hair. "I've enjoyed our discussion, but I really must be going. Thanks again."

She shut the thick door behind her, effectively leaving the guard to struggle and moan with no hope of being heard.

Chandra's new disguise was a marked improvement, allowing her to move freely about the building with nary a suspicious glance. Besides, the body armor afforded her more protection in case anything went south.

She traversed the hallways and passages, peeking into each room for a sign - any sign - of Sonja. But the building was much larger than it appeared on the outside. After a while, her efforts - and patience - began to wear thin.

Just as she was beginning to wonder if she'd been sent on a wild goose chase, Chandra heard a voice that made her ears perk up. A voice that instantly filled her with relief.

"Look, what else do you want?" The voice, emanating from a side room, was unmistakably that of Sonja. "I've told you everything I know... Can't you just let me go now?"

This was followed by the sound of another woman sighing. "Sonja, we've been over this... We can't let you go. You need to stay with us."

Chandra covertly peeked into the room, a small and dimly lit, barely furnished office. She could see Sonja sitting, tied to a chair, while two other women stood over her. Chandra recognized one of them as Oksana, the woman who had shot her with a tranq dart the night before.

"We need you, Sonja," Oksana continued. "You were one of the most talented agents in our field, and your heart needs to stay loyal to Mother Russia. We need you on our team."

"I'm still not interested," Sonja shot back. "I'm done. Done, you hear me?"

The other woman, Polina, sighed. "Come on, Sonja, we're your friends. Don't make us do this."

"Do what?" Sonja glanced back and forth between her two captors. Then her eyes widened. "No..."

"I'm afraid so," Polina said quietly. "Our instructions were to either bring you back into the fold..."

"...or dispose of you." Oksana pulled a gun from her belt and pointed it at Sonja's head.

Sonja gulped. "Look, I... Can't we talk this over?"

"Sonja, you were my best friend in the Academy," Oksana said stoically. "I have so much respect for you, as an agent and as a friend. Please... don't make me do this."

"But..."

"You've got till the count of three to give us the answer," Oksana continued. "One... two..."

"I believe the lady already gave you an answer," Chandra said, stepping into the room.

Oksana and Polina looked up at the armored woman - seemingly one of their soldiers - now facing them.

"Sentry, why have you left your post?" Oksana said in annoyance. "We gave strict orders not to be disturbed."

"Gee, that's too bad," Chandra replied with a smirk. "Because you're about to be very, very disturbed."

So saying, she pulled out a gun of her own, pointing it at the two women.

Oksana arched her eyebrows in shock. "What the hell...? What are you doing?"

Chandra used her free hand to pull off her helmet. "I'm rescuing my friend."

Sonja's face lit up. "Omigod... Chandra, is that you?"

"In the flesh," Chandra beamed. Then, to Oksana and Polina: "Hands up, you two."

Oksana dropped her gun and raised her hands, a furious look on her face. Polina did likewise.

"Great. Now you," Chandra gestured to Polina. "Untie my friend. No tricks, or you'll regret it."

"Oksana..." Polina started to say.

"Do as she says," Oksana replied bitterly. "She holds the cards... for now."

Polina bent down and began untying Sonja's wrists. Meanwhile, Oksana affixed Chandra with a steely glare.

"You think you're so tough, don't you... Breaking into our facility, stealing a uniform..."

"Actually, I've stolen two uniforms at this facility," Chandra corrected her. "Your guards aren't as tough as they look."

Sonja stood up, rubbing her wrists. "Ah, that feels good."

Then she whirled and slugged Oksana in the chin.

"That was for putting a gun to my head, bitch," she spat as the unconscious Oksana slid to the floor.

Then she whirled toward Polina, fists raised. "And you..."

Polina shrank back. "Please... please don't hurt me. I swear I didn't want to kill you. I was just..."

"...Following orders?" Sonja pressed. "That's rich. Well, now you've got some new orders: Grab some duct tape from the desk and tie Oksana up. Then we'll do the same to you."

Polina wanted to protest, but Chandra's gun was pointed right at her. She hurried to comply.

Sonja turned to Chandra. "I can't believe it's really you... I thought I was a goner. How did you ever find me?"

"Oh, I had... help," Chandra replied. "Plus a lot of determination."

Sonja grinned. "I can't thank you enough."

Within minutes, Polina had tied up and gagged Oksana, and was then herself promptly tied and gagged by Sonja. The two Russians were seated in the corner of the room, no longer as threatening as they had seemed a few minutes earlier.

"Ready to get out of here?" Chandra asked.

"I was ready yesterday," Sonja replied. "Only... there are probably a ton of other guards patrolling the premises. If any of them see me leaving, they'll open fire."

"Say no more," Chandra smiled. "I'll be right back."

She stepped back out into the hallway and glanced around. It appeared empty, but a shadow at the end of the hallway told her that another guard was standing just around the corner.

Putting on her best smile, Chandra stepped down the hall and turned the corner. The guard on duty was, fortunately enough, about Sonja's size. She was a stern-looking woman with light skin and almond-brown hair, clad in a black uniform similar to the one Chandra herself wore.

Chandra nodded politely at the guard. Then suddenly, a look of concern crossed her face, and she pointed. "Hey... what's that on your shoulder?"

The guard did not think to notice that Chandra spoke without a Russian accent. She impulsively turned to look at her right shoulder, the one Chandra was pointing at. "What...?"

Chandra struck quickly, with a judo chop to the now-exposed left side of the guard's neck. The woman let out a soft moan as she lost consciousness, her body falling right into Chandra's arms.

"Works every time," Chandra chuckled as she dragged the slumbering guard back down the hallway.

The uniform, as anticipated, was a good fit for Sonja. She dressed quickly, while Chandra introduced the real guard - now down to her white plunge bra and vanilla bikini panties - to some leftover duct tape.

"You weren't kidding about the underwear," Chandra commented as she dragged the bound-and-gagged guard over to the corner where Oksana and Polina already sat. "Every Russian woman I've mugged tonight wears the plainest pair of bra and panties."

"It's a real problem," Sonja agreed. "That's partly why I emigrated to this country. Mugging women for their clothes in Russia was boring as hell. But American women have real color and imagination."

Chandra laughed. "Agreed. It's what I love about this country." She checked her watch. "Damn, it's late. Come on, let's get hustling."

Sonja finished putting on her disguise. Then she glanced over at Polina and Oksana, the latter of whom had now regained consciousness. Oksana was glaring at her angrily; Polina had a look of regret on her face.

"I wish things could be different," Sonja told them. "But I'm done. Don't come after me again."

With that, she followed Chandra out the door.

"So where are we going now?" Sonja asked her friend.

"I found a couple of leads while infiltrating a local police station," Chandra replied. "Some ideas about where Lucille might be. It's pretty speculative, but could be worth investigating. I know today has been exhausting, but do you wanna go check it out?"

Sonja paused. "Will this involve mugging more women and stealing disguises?"

Chandra rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

Sonja grinned. "Then yes, let's check it out."

********

Moira and Prema could do little to struggle against the two tall, athletic guards who carried their still bound-and-gagged forms across an empty hallway, then down into a dusty basement.

"This will be your room for the night," one of the guards announced with a smirk on her face. "Try to get comfortable."

The other guard laughed. "Unfortunately, room service is off for the night."

Moira and Prema were roughly tossed in a corner of the basement. The guards exited, still laughing, shutting the heavy steel door behind them.

The two captured women sat trembling, still not sure what was going on - or what was going to happen to them. Prema swallowed in fear, ready to start crying.

Moira inched her way closer to Prema, nuzzling her shoulder. In the dim lighting, it was difficult to make much out, but Prema could see the sense of calm and assurance in Moira's eyes - Don't panic. We'll be okay.

Then Prema remembered - the distress signal. Bridget had given her a small electronic device - small enough to fit on a bracelet - to use in case she ever ran into any trouble. (Something which she had developed a regular habit for, it seemed.)

Prema fumbled against the bonds on her wrist, her fingers searching for the special bracelet. She had worn it on a lark to the ballet, thinking it made a pretty accessory - but now it just might be the thing to save her life, and Moira's as well.

Prema found the bracelet and pressed the stud. As she felt it buzz, her eyes turned back to Moira - a sense of calm confidence now radiating from herself as well.

We will be okay... I know it.

******

Bridget returned to her apartment building, exhausted yet still slightly shaking. Her close brush with death had only been the latest in a long line, and one of her narrowest escapes yet.

"What an insane day," she murmured.

Right now, she wanted nothing more than to get some sleep - for hours, maybe even days. She still needed to check up on Mrs. Drake, have another talk with Bobbi and perhaps Felicia. But right now, she simply needed to rest.

As she reached for the front door, her phone buzzed. Bridget's first impulse was to ignore it, but then decided to give it a glance.

Her eyes widened when she saw what it was. A distress signal - from Prema!

Bridget quickly replied to the signal, sending a message of confirmation to Prema's phone. She waited several minutes, to no response.

The distress signal came again. There was no question - Prema was in trouble.

Immediately, Bridget no longer felt tired. If her friend was in danger, she would need to help, no matter the time of night.

She immediately dialed up a new number, hoping Felicia was still up.

She was relieved to hear the phone pick up on the third ring.

"H'lo?" Felicia sounded groggy, weary.

"Felicia," Bridget said quickly. "I need your help."

Felicia sighed. "Bridget, I told you... I'm done with adventuring. I can't do this anymore..."

"It's not about adventuring," Bridget replied. "It's about Prema. She's in trouble... I think she needs help."

There was silence on the line. Then Felicia spoke, no longer sounding weary. "I'll be right over."

*******

The boat docked at the shore beneath a star-flecked sky. Zuhal breathed deep as her feet touched solid ground.

"Good to be back on the mainland," she smiled. "No bombs around here, eh, Bobbi?"

Bobbi exited the boat, still rather quiet, a pensive look on her face. "Eh? ...Yeah, no. I guess not."

Zuhal riased an eyebrow. "You've been awful quiet for the past half-hour, Bobbi. Is something wrong?"

"I..." Bobbi wasn't sure what to say. "No. Everything is fine. I guess I'm just exhausted."

"Who can blame you?" Zuhal nodded. "It's been a hell of a night. Can't wait to get my ass in bed."

She yawned and stretched. "Think I'll steal a car and drive home. You want a ride?"

Bobbi was about to respond, but gave a sudden start when she felt a buzzing in her pocket. Her phone was going off again.

Glancing at the screen, she was surprised to see the caller was Bridget.

Zuhal glanced over her shoulder. "Phone call at this hour? Girl, you need a rest."

Bobbi gave her a look. "Hey, it might be important..." She answered the phone.

"Bobbi, thank goodness you're still up." Bridget sounded breathless, almost panicked. "How soon can you get over here?"

"What's wrong?" Bobbi hadn't heard this level of concern in Bridget's voice in a long while.

She listened intently for a few minutes. Then she nodded. "Okay, I'll be right over."

"What was that about?" Zuhal asked as soon as Bobbi had hung up.

"Trouble," Bobbi said. "Prema is missing... possibly kidnapped. I gotta go."

She turned to leave, but Zuhal put a hand on her shoulder. "Hold it, Bob. If there's action, I'm coming with you." She had an energetic smile on her face.

Bobbi gave her a strange look. "A minute ago, you were exhausted."

"Guess you just gave me a second wind," Zuhal replied. "You're not gonna leave me out of the fun, are you?"

Bobbi looked uneasy. "I don't know... My friends are..."

"Bobbi," Zuhal said sternly. "Am I not your friend?"

The silence hung in the salty air for the longest moment.

"You... of course you are," Bobbi replied.

"Great," Zuhal said chipperly. "And as your friend, I want to help you. So let's go, wherever it is."

Bobbi didn't want to waste time arguing. Not that she had much to argue, anyway.

******

Felicia reached Bridget's doorstep and knocked twice. She fiddled with an errant strand of hair until the door opened.

"Come on in." Bridget beckoned her inside.

"I came as soon as I could," Felicia explained. "There was no bus this time of night, so..."

She stopped talking as she saw the other people seated in the room - Bobbi and Zuhal.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

Zuhal waved at Felicia. "Hi, girl. Glad you could join us."

Felicia scowled. "What is she doing here?" She glared accusingly at Bobbi. "I thought you said you didn't trust her."

Bobbi shrugged. "Zuhal is more trustworthy than I thought."

Felicia bit her lip, unsure of how to respond.

Then Bridget spoke. "Look, I know we're all going through some... things. But I'd like to ask everyone to set aside any personal grievances at the moment. Prema is in danger... and Moira may be as well. I tried calling her, but no response... and I've traced her phone to the same location where Prema is."

Felicia sat down on a chair, far as she could from Bobbi. "What location is that?"

"The mansion of a wealthy woman named Regina Caldwell," Bridget said. "I've had her name come up in a few stories I've worked on in the past, though I've never investigated her directly. Turns out she has connections to some of the most corrupt and criminal institutions and businesses in the state."

"But why would she kidnap Prema and Moira?" Bobbi asked.

"I don't know," Bridget admitted. "Maybe Moira was writing an exposé about her, and Caldwell wants her silenced. But whatever the reason, we need to rescue them pronto."

The other women in the room nodded. "Where is this mansion?" Felicia asked.

"At the northern end of town." Bridget pulled up a sky-cam image on her laptop. "It's quite large, heavily guarded and fortified. Apparently she has her own security force, comprised primarily of ex-military women."

"They won't be any trouble," Bobbi smirked.

"Don't be overconfident," Bridget cautioned. "These women are trained mercenaries. If they catch us breaking into the mansion, they won't call the police or anything. They'll kill us without asking questions."

She glanced around the room. "This is more dangerous than most other assignments we've worked on," she said. "Because this isn't an assignment. Our friends are in deadly danger, and we need to rescue them - even if it means breaking the law ourselves."

Her gaze settled on Felicia. "Is that okay?"

Felicia didn't hesitate. She simply nodded. "Of course. Let's go save our friends."

Bridget smiled. "Great. Now, here's the plan..."

******

"You idiot."

Jenna looked up. "Excuse me?"

She was currently seated on a lumpy couch in the corner of the "guesthouse" behind the mansion. It was something of a misnomer, as the small construct was ill-furnished - just a table, two chairs, and a couch that folded out as a bed. Ms. Caldwell apparently did not have guests often, and so had little reason to keep the place tidy.

The small, somewhat cramped quarters were currently the location - and confined prison space - of Jenna, Harper, and Evelyn. Two athletic female guards stood outside the door, under orders from Fernanda that any attempts by the three prisoners to escape would invite the response of a bullet.

"I said you're an idiot," Harper repeated. She was currently sitting in one of the chairs, angrily drumming her fingers on the table. "You said you had identified Bridget Baxter as the woman we were kidnapping. Didn't you bother checking?"

Nearby, Evelyn was pacing back and forth, deep in thought.

"I'm the idiot?" Jenna replied indignantly. "You're the one who identified Moira over the radio. You also identified the woman next to her as Bridget."

"I said she might have been Bridget," Harper replied. "I was onstage. Couldn't see them too clearly. You were the one who got a look at the up close. You should have been paying attention."

"Don't blame this on me!" Jenna scowled. "I did my part... much as I hated to do it."

Harper rolled her eyes. "Don't go all soft on me."

"I'm serious," Jenna pressed. "Maybe if you concentrated less on beating up innocent girls for their clothes, and more on doing your job, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Harper sighed. "Here we go... Gonna play the morality card on me? As if you haven't mugged girls for their clothes, too."

"I have," Jenna admitted. "But I've only done it when necessary. You do it because you hate other women and love flexing your power over them."

Harper's voice lowered. "Choose your next words carefully, bimbo."

"You're pathetic," Jenna continued, her temper rising. "I can't believe you were ever my friend. You're just a sad, pathetic excuse for..."

Harper jumped up and lunged at Jenna, fists bared.

Jenna was about to assume a defensive post to react, but Evelyn reacted faster. She grabbed Harper and wrapped an arm around her throat.

"Calm down," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Both of you, calm the hell down."

The walls of the room were thick stone, relatively soundproofed to the outside. So the guards had not heard the squabbling from within - or if they had, they paid it no heed.

"Let go of me." Harper struggled in Evelyn's grip. "Let me teach that bitch a lesson... Let me..."

"Harper," Evelyn said quietly. "I have you in a very strong headlock. By increasing pressure, I could render you unconscious for several hours. Do you want that?"

Harper was silent for a moment. "...No."

"If I let you go, you will be calm and peaceful. If you are not calm and peaceful, I will be forced to use a sleeper hold on you. And you know I'm an expert at those."

Harper moved her head just enough to nod.

"Will you be calm and peaceful?"

"...Yes."

Evelyn let Harper go. Harper rubbed her neck. She glared at Jenna but said nothing.

"Now," Evelyn continued. "We need to assess this situation. Fernanda and her thugs have us trapped here. They are likely going to kill us as soon as Ms. Caldwell give the word. We can either try to escape, or we can argue and squabble here until they shoot us."

She glanced back and forth between Harper and Jenna. "I know you two have your disagreements. But we need to save the politics for later. Right now, we need to concentrate on escape. Is that clear?"

Both her companions nodded.

"Good," Evelyn replied. "Now keep quit for a few minutes while I think of something to get us out of here..."

******

The large white van rumbled down the road, dirt and pebbles grinding beneath its wheels. The signage of "Evergreen Gardening" along its side glinted in the moonlight.

Inside the van were four women - gardeners by trade. All were dressed in green overalls, brown shirts, black boots, and green logo-emblazoned caps. They were currently en route to a client in the north end of town - a wealthy woman with deep pockets and a rich garden in need of tending.

Iris, the light-skinned, chestnut-haired group leader, glanced in the rearview mirror as she steered the truck down the road. "How are you holding up, girls?"

Rose, a fair-skinned redhead, had her arms folded. "I still don't like this," she murmured.

"Don't like what?" the light-skinned blonde Daisy asked.

"I assume she's referring to the late-night assignment," replied Jasmine, a dark-skinned brunette.

"Damn right," Rose said. "This is ridiculous, gardening at this hour."

"It is a little inconvenient," Iris admitted. "But Ms. Caldwell prefers the gardening done at night, so that she can best appreciate her flowers when she gets up in the morning. And she pays well for our trouble."

"That's not the inconvenience I'm referring to," Rose retorted. "Did we all just forget what happened to us not long ago, on one of these late-night runs?"

Daisy and Jasmine exchanged uneasy glances. Of course they hadn't forgotten.

"It was just one time," Daisy said. "We just had a bit of bad luck..."

"We were ambushed!" Rose snapped back. "Those criminals attacked us... stole our clothes, tied us up. That's more than 'just a bit of bad luck,' if you ask me..."

"It certainly wasn't good," Iris interjected. "But those women were caught and arrested, weren't they? And we were freed and got our uniforms and vehicle back. We can't let one awful incident ruin our whole business."

Rose sighed. "I suppose not."

"I thought it was kind of cool, actually," Daisy added.

Rose shot her a look. "You thought being tied up and having your clothes stolen was 'cool'?"

Daisy shrugged. "I mean, obviously it was scary, and uncomfortable to be bound and gagged in those bushes all night. But looking back, it was a pretty suspenseful experience. Our work as gardeners - important though it might be - is pretty boring. But now we have an exciting story to share with our friends."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "I told one of my friends what happened. She laughed her ass off, and said the four of us probably looked ridiculous all tied up in our undies."

"She was right," Rose nodded. "We looked like idiots when the cops found us."

"Anyway, I decided not to tell anyone else about it," Jasmine continued. "So goddamn embarrassing."

"Smart move." Rose glanced toward the front of the van. "Hey, what's that up ahead?"

Iris saw it too. She stepped on the brakes. "Damn it."

A large fallen tree trunk was blocking the road ahead.

"More bad luck," Daisy murmured.

"Still not as bad as last time." Iris opened her door. "Come on, girls. If the four of us work together, I bet we can push that tree off the road."

Rose sighed. "Guess we're doing some extra gardening tonight."

She opened the rear doors of the van and stepped out. Daisy followed her.

Jasmine remained alone in the van, rummaging among some boxes. "I'm sure we have some ropes here somewhere," she muttered. "Would help with leverage."

She found what she was looking for - two lengthy coils of brown leather rope - and smiled. "Perfect."

She turned to exit the van, but was startled to see an unfamiliar woman, all clad in black, climbing into rear of the vehicle.

"What the... Who are you?" Jasmine demanded.

She received no verbal answer. The van rocked back and forth for a few moments, then grew still and quiet.

Nearby, Iris approached the large tree trunk, with Daisy and Rose behind her.

"It's bigger than I thought," Iris grumbled. "Come on, help me push."

The three women heaved against the trunk, but it was indeed quite heavy, and they were not able to budge it more than a few inches.

"Do we have ropes in the van?" Iris asked.

"I think Jasmine was going to get them," Daisy replied. She turned back to the van. "Hey, Jasmine! We could use your help here!"

No response. Iris frowned. "Now where did she go?"

In the dim lighting, they could see a figure emerge from the back of the van, dressed in gardening uniform. She was waving and beckoning to the trio.

"What is it?" Iris called out.

Getting no response, she sighed. "Daisy, go see what she wants."

Daisy nodded, and jogged over and around to the rear of the van. "Hey, Jasmine. Did you find any rope?"

Her eyes widened when she saw the beckoning woman up close. This was not Jasmine - although she was indeed carrying some rope.

Daisy's attempt at a scream was obstructed by the woman's hand over her mouth. She was roughly pulled behind the van.

Iris and Rose remained focused on the obstructive tree trunk.

"Can't see why it's so heavy," Iris murmured, her brow furrowed. "I'm gonna check out the other side... Maybe there's something wedging or blocking it."

She stepped off to the side of the road and into the nearby grove of trees.

Twigs and leaves crunched beneath her boots as she navigated her way past the fallen end of the trunk. She nearly lost her balance over an errant root, but managed to steady herself.

"Can't see a thing here," she muttered. "Wish I had my flashligh--"

It was a sentence that would remain unfinished, abruptly cut short by a black-gloved hand over her mouth.

Rose shivered, alone out in the middle of the road. It was not particularly cold, yet she still wished she were indoors.

"See anything, Iris?" she called out in the darkness.

No response, other than the whistling of wind through the trees.

"...Iris?" Rose called again, more hesitantly.

She glanced around. "Daisy? Jasmine? You guys, this isn't funny..."

The sound of footsteps made her whirl. From the darkness of the side of the road, a woman emerged, dressed all in black, including gloves and a ski mask.

"What the hell...?" Rose took a step back. "Oh no, not again..."

"I'm not going to hurt you," the girl said quickly. "Please, I just need your..."

"...My clothes?" Rose finished. "I knew it! I knew this was a bad idea!"

The girl hesitated, unsure of what to say.

Rose struck a defensive position. "If you want to take my uniform, you'll have to fight me. My friends and I are not living through that hell again... Spending the night tied up in our underwear... The cops trying not to laugh when they find us... Ugghhh!"

She was suddenly hit by a neck chop from behind, and slumped to the ground.

Bobbi stood over the unconscious woman, puling off her ski mask. "That was a close one... She was about to start screaming."

Felicia pulled off her own ski mask. "You didn't have to knock her out..."

"Oh, really?" Bobbi rolled her eyes. "I suppose you were going to appeal to her better nature? You're lucky I intervened when I did."

Felicia glanced down at the woman sadly. "You heard what she said? She and her friends already been through this before... Someone must have stolen their uniforms a while back... They've already been through a lot."

"So what?" Bobbi shrugged. "You think they get special privileges because this is their second time getting their clothes stolen? Maybe after three times, they should get a free soda!" She laughed.

Felicia scowled. "I'm being serious. Why do they need to go through this more than once?"

Bobbi got serious. "Felicia, don't be stupid. The fact that these women got their clothes stolen in the past means they should be more cognizant of the risks that come with being a woman in uniform. Yet they still chose to put these uniforms back on and continue their line of work. So no, I don't feel sorry for them. They knew what they were getting into."

Felicia shook her head. "I don't understand it. How can you be so heartless?"

"I'm not heartless," Bobbi replied. "I'm realistic. If stealing clothes makes you uncomfortable, then don't do it. But don't lecture me about which women we should or shouldn't be mugging - especially since you're the one who introduced me to this sort of thing to begin with."

She glanced down at the unconscious gardener. "Anyway, she looks about your size. Maybe stop arguing and put on her clothes. That is, unless you don't care about saving Moira and Prema."

Felicia stared coldly at Bobbi. "I can't believe you were once my friend," she said. "After tonight... I never want to speak to you again."

Bobbi looked surprised at this - and a little hurt.

But she quickly regained her composure. "Fine. If that's the way you want it."

At that moment, Bridget emerged from the trees lining the roadside, carrying the unconscious Iris over her shoulder. "Hey, girls... Let's get into our disguises."

Bobbi turned quickly and walked over to the van. Zuhal, already disguised in Jasmine's uniform, was currently in the process of stripping Daisy.

Zuhal looked up and smiled at Bobbi. "Hey, babe. This uniform looks like it should fit you..."

Then she noticed Bobbi wiping a tear from her eye.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a note of real concern.

Bobbi nodded. "Of course." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's get this woman out of her uniform..."

******

Soon after, the four Evergreen gardeners had been bound with ropes from their truck and gagged with brown packaging tape. The women all wore identical underwear - lime-green sports bras and slim panties with white lining.

"That's how you know they're all in a team," Zuhal quipped to Bobbi as they dragged the four women into some nearby bushes.

Bobbi didn't laugh. "Come on, let's get moving."

Bridget had unwedged the tree from the manner in which she and her associates had previously used it to block the road, and dragged it off. She was now in the front seat of the gardening van, with Felicia sitting beside her.

"I..." Bridget started. "I heard you and Bobbi arguing. Do you... want to talk about it?"

Felicia stared straight ahead. "I want to find the people who kidnapped our friends and kick their asses." She glanced at Bridget. "Then we'll talk about it."

Bridget nodded.

Zuhal and Bobbi climbed into the rear of the van. All four women were now fully disguised.

"Let's floor it," Zuhal said with a smile.

Then she glanced around the van, noting the unhappy state of the other women. "Geez, what's with everyone tonight?"

"Zuhal... just give it a rest," Bridget said, a note of irritation in her voice. "This is a serious job."

Zuhal nodded. "Okay..."

Bridget turned the ignition and pulled the van back on the road.

*****

Ms. Caldwell absent-mindedly toyed with a stress ball as she sat at her desk, listening to her chief of security explain the situation.

"So there you have it," Fernanda finished. "We have Moira locked up in the basement, but not Bridget. Those three imbeciles brought back the wrong woman."

Ms. Caldwell considered this. "Do we know of Bridget Baxter's location?"

"My girls are working on it," Fernanda answered. "I assume you still want her?"

"Of course," her boss nodded. "But we must work quickly, before she is alerted. And meantime, make sure her friend knows what we want."

"Certainly, boss," Fernanda replied. "And what shall we do about Evelyn, Harper, and Jenna?"

"Who?"

"Those three women you hired - the ones who screwed up the assignment and kidnapped the wrong women."

"Oh... Dispose of them, of course," Ms. Caldwell said. "I can't have workers on my payroll who fail to do their job. Make sure the bodies are never found."

Fernanda grinned. "I always do, boss."

She turned to go, then stopped. "Oh yes... and what shall we do about Prema? The woman we accidentally kidnapped. Want me to kill her too?"

Ms. Caldwell considered. "No, leave her alive... for now. If she is connected with Moira - and perhaps Bridget - she could be a useful bargaining chip."

******

Prema did not know how much time had passed since she and Moira had first been thrown into the basement - minutes, maybe hours. Perhaps even days? But she forced herself to keep calm.

She concentrated, working her best to untie the knots that bound Moira. It wasn't easy - both women had their hands behind their backs, so even in better lighting Prema would not have been able to see what she was doing. However, she had been tied up and kidnapped so many times in recent memory that she had developed a skill and an instinct for untying knots.

After several failed attempts, a lesser woman would have given up. But Prema pressed forward, brow bent in concentration. Until at last, she felt the ropes go slack.

A wave of relief washed over her as Moira let the ropes fall. The blonde woman rubbed her wrists, then pulled the gag from her mouth.

"Ah! That's better. Thank you, honey."

She removed the gag from Prema's mouth, then immediately planted a kiss on her lips.

Prema was startled at first, but quickly went along with it. She was getting more used to this.

Moira untied Prema, talking in whispers. "Okay... Are you sure that Bridget got your signal? How long since you sent it out?"

"I'm not sure." Prema checked her watch. "We were kidnapped a few hours ago... It looks like Bridget got the signal, but I can't confirm. Do you have your phone?"

Moira shook her head. "They must have confiscated it."

Prema sighed. "That's what I was afraid of..."

Moira placed a tender hand on her shoulder. "Hey... there's no need to be afraid. I'm here."

Despite their stressful circumstances, Prema couldn't help but smile. "Yes... yes, you are."

******

The mansion grounds loomed large behind a pair of pristine metal gates as Bridget pulled the van up to the entrance.

She rolled down the window, smiling at the tall female guard who approached.

"Can I help you?" the guard inquired in a flat, stern voice.

Bridget gestured to the lettering on the side of the van. "We're here to do the gardening. I'm sure we have an appointment."

The guard pulled out a tablet and tapped a couple of buttons. She scanned it for a moment, then looked back up to Bridget, a suspicious look on her face.

Bridget kept a calm expression, but held her breath.

The guard glanced back down at the tablet, and her look softened. "Ah, here we are. Yes, we're expecting you... Start with the rosebushes out back."

Bridget nodded. "Will do."

The guard pressed a button, and the heavy gates slid open. Bridget drove on through.

"We're in," she whispered to her team. "Boy, this place is crawling with security."

Indeed, there were several guards posted by the front of the the mansion, with the latest in high-tech security cameras set up to surveil the area.

Bridget steered the van around to the quieter side of the mansion, briefly parking it in the blind spot between two cameras.

She turned back to Bobbi and Zuhal. "Okay... you two get out here. Try to find a way inside. Felicia and I will head around the back. Good luck."

"Thanks, good luck to you." Bobbi briefly glanced at Felicia, who offered nothing more than a curt nod.

With an inward sigh, Bobbi followed Zuhal out the rear of the van.

They watched as Bridget pulled the van away and it disappeared around the corner. Then Zuhal turned to Bobbi.

"Girlfriend, you okay? You've barely said a word since we first got into the van."

Bobbi sighed. "I think..." She struggled to find the words. "I think I've just lost a friend."

Zuhal looked surprised, then nodded understandingly. She placed a hand on Bobbi's shoulder. "Well, you haven't lost me," she said with a warm smile. "I'm proud to be your friend."

Bobbi smiled at her. "Thanks... That means a lot."

For a moment, all was peaceful, and Bobbi felt comforted. Then the sound of a nearby doorknob turning reminded her of the mission.

"Quick, hide," she whispered. The two women dove into some nearby bushes.

The side door opened, and two women walked out. From their attire, they appeared to be maids at the mansion - both were dressed in light blue button-down blouses, black skirts with white apron, white hose and soft black shoes. They shut the door behind them, lingering a moment to breathe in the fresh night air.

One of the maids, a tan-skinned woman with a bun of chestnut-brown hair drew a pack of cigarettes from her apron pocket. She passed one to her friend, a light-skinned woman with her dark red hair cut into a sophisticated bob, then took another for herself.

"Nice night, isn't it?" the first maid said as she lit her friend's cigarette.

Her friend nodded. "A shame we have to spend it working indoors."

The first maid lit her own cigarette. "That's what makes these breaks so much better," she noted. "Especially since we found this little area where the security cameras can't see us."

From the bushes, Zuhal turned to Bobbi. "I know you're upset," she whispered. "Do you suppose that borrowing the clothes of those two women would help you cheer up?"

Bobbi gave a half-hearted smile. "Maybe a little."

The two maids stood smoking quietly, watching the wisps of their cigarettes disappear into the night air. For the moment, all was quiet and peaceful.

The moment was interrupted as Zuhal stepped out of the bushes, smiling as she walked towards them.

"Hi," she said with a smile. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

The maids eyed the woman in the gardening uniform strangely. "Who are you?" the redhead asked.

"Just one of the many busy bodies at the mansion tonight." Zuhal pointed behind her. "I've been working behind those bushes... But while digging around, I found some jewels... pearls and diamonds that appear to have been lost. Do you know anything about this?"

The maids exchanged a glance. Then the brunette spoke first. "You... found diamonds in the garden?"

"Yes, a few of them," Zuhal continued. "Did the owner of this mansion say anything about losing valuables?"

The maids exchanged another glance, more furtively this time. The smiles on their faces - and the glimmer in their eyes - were entirely understandable. They had happened upon a few scraps Ms. Caldwell's bounty of valuables - and she was none the wiser.

"Guess you'd better show them to us," the redhead said to Zuhal. "We'll take them to our boss."

"Sure we will," the brunette whispered. Her friend nudged her in the ribs.

Zuhal beckoned the women as she stepped back behind the bushes. "Follow me."

The maids followed, eagerly anticipating the abundant fortune that waited them on the other side.

Alas, they were instead met with abundant misfortune once they disappeared behind the bushes. Bobbi sprang up from her hiding place, and Zuhal shoved both maids hard in the back, pushing them to the ground. The two infiltrators then efficiently dispatched the two maids with minimal noise or trouble.

Zuhal smiled at Bobbi as she began stripping the unconscious redhead. "There. Doesn't mugging some women for their clothes make you feel better? It always does for me."

Bobbi nodded, a bit hesitantly, as she knelt down beside the other maid. "I... I guess."

Zuhal placed a friendly hand on your shoulder. "It's okay... I know this takes some adjusting. I've lost friendships too... they just didn't care for me or my life choices. Society just doesn't understand women like us - women who steal clothes to feel empowered in a world that does everything it can to depower us. I've learned to accept that long ago... And if you ever need to talk, I'm always available."

Bobbi nodded, smiling at Zuhal. "Thank you... Really, thanks so much."

There was renewed energy on her face as she stripped the dark-haired maid. True, Felicia's words still stung - but Bobbi now had a new friend. Someone who understood her more, and better. Someone she could confide in without fear of being judged.

Within minutes, the maids had been relieved of their uniforms - the redhead was left in a white T-shirt bra and maroon briefs, while the brunette had been reduced to a grey triangle bra and matching boyshorts. Zuhal and Bobbi used white cords and grey tape to ensure they'd stay quiet and immobile for the next few hours.

Bobbi let herself breathe a bit easier as she slipped into the well-fitting maid uniform. Still, she could not shake the feeling in the back of her head that somehow, in some way... Felicia wasn't wrong about her.

******

Felicia remained quiet in the passenger seat of the van as Bridget pulled around to the back of the mansion. The vehicle ground to a halt near a wooden gardening shed.

Bridget stepped out of the van and glanced around. "No one in the area at the moment... the guards are probably patrolling elsewhere. Come on."

Felicia remained in her seat, thoughtfully staring out the window.

"Felicia," Bridget repeated.

Felicia snapped out of her thoughts. "Coming," she said softly.

The two women left the vehicle and approached the rear of the mansion. Bridget eyed a hatchway built into the ground.

"Probably leads to a wine cellar," she whispered. "Good point of entry, assuming we can get past the lock."

So saying, she removed some lockpicks from her pocket. "Keep a lookout," she said as she knelt down. "This should only take a minute."

As Bridget fiddled with the locks, Felicia shuddered slightly in the cool night air. She felt uneasy - should she have blown up at Bobbi like that? But no, she told herself - it was the right decision. Bobbi had gone too far for her to tolerate any longer. Hadn't she?

Felicia stared down at her boots - or rather, the boots of the woman she had stolen. Here she was again, wearing a uniform that belonged to someone else, its original owner tied up and gagged and hidden away in her underwear. No matter how noble her reasoning or how desperate situation - and Felicia truly believed this was a desperate situation - something about mugging other women for their clothes no longer sat right with her.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Felicia looked up with a start. Bridget did, too.

Standing before them now were four armed and armored security guards, clad in dark blue Kevlar suits, knee-high thick-soled black boots, and black helmets. The helmets had visors on them, making it impossible for Felicia and Bobbi to see the faces of the guards... But judging by the way that all four of the women had guns drawn and pointed at them, they were probably not happy expressions.

"I asked you a question," one guard - who appeared to be the leader of the group - spoke up again. "Stand up and keep your hands where we can see them."

Bridget stood up, hands raised. Felicia raised her hands as well.

"I thought you were keeping a lookout," Bridget whispered.

Felicia gave her a guilty look.

"Who are you?" the guard asked, shining her flashlight at the two women. "I don't recall seeing either of you in the garden before."

She lifted her visor, revealing a matt of blonde hair above a rough, light-skinned face. "Wait a minute... you look familiar. Didn't the boss send out your picture earlier?"

Then she smiled. "Yes... yes, of course. Bridget Baxter."

Bridget felt her blood run cold. How did they know who she was?

"Thought you could sneak in, huh?" the blonde guard continued. "Want to rescue your friends? Well, nice try. The boss is gonna love this."

"Please," Bridget tried to keep her voice calm. "I don't know what it is you or your boss wants... but please let my friends go."

"I'm afraid that's not negotiable," the guard replied flatly. "They're not getting out of here... and neither are you."

She eyed Felicia. "And who might you be?"

Felicia kept silent, trying to retain her composure.

"She's not important," Bridget interjected. "If you want me, fine. But let her go..."

"So she can run to the police?" the guard chuckled. "Wishful thinking, Bridget. The boss said to bring you in alive... but didn't say anything about your redheaded friend."

She pointed her gun at Felicia. "I'm afraid it's the end of the line for you, my dear."

Bridget's eyes widened. Felicia stood frozen, frightened, rooted to the spot, as the guard's finger tightened on the trigger.

[simon4242]

great again tho a bit harsh on the four gardeners i assume they and the russian guards will be found especially the one in the closet....sigh sonja and chandra and zuhal need some karma toooo lol Felicia and jenna have become the heart and soul of your stories with their conflicted feelings and underlying decency.....quality writing

[esercito sconfitto]

welcome back "Evergreen Gardening" team! soon or later Iris, Rose, Daisy and Jasmine will realize that they are trapped in a USB saga as ever-returning characters !


Tirepanted, many thanks for resuming the story!

[tirepanted3]

Simon4242: It's hard to write a USB story without some characters of questionable moral fibre. That said, I don't see Chandra and Sonja's actions in this chapter as being particularly immoral - the Russian women brought it upon themselves by kidnapping Sonja.

Esercito: I simply couldn't resist bringing the gardeners from Volume 3 back for an encore. Poor girls... Hopefully they won't be as embarrassed when they are found this time.

[simon4242]

fair enuff lol

[meditions142]

Fantastic, wonderful new chapter.

I do love that you included several great "dumb guard" mistakes.

First off, I love the first guard Chandra takes out. She lets her boredom get the better of her and foolishly gets to close to the bushes.

Then, there is the good old "what's that on your shoulder" trick. A nice neck chop and the guard just slumps into Chandra's waiting arms.

And I love Chandra being disappointment by the guards' choice of bra and panties.

So much fun!

[tirepanted3]

I couldn't resist having Chandra pull the "what's that on your shoulder" trick. Don't think I've used it before (at least not for a while) and it was a nice way to add some light comedy to the infiltration scene. Ditto her disappointed reaction to the guard's underwear - helps keep the story fun.

[rufusluciusivan]

I'll be honest. When I saw this new instalment, and most importantly when I saw it wasn't the end of the volume, I was tempted to not read it immediately, and to wait until all the chapters were posted. Because I knew how this was going to end. I knew this was going to leave me craving for more... craving for the conclusion... But against my better judgement, I read it...

No Zuhal, you see that the gardeners are a team because they all share flower-related names. I like how every time I read your stories, I want to use the Toy Story meme...



Quips... Quips everywhere... Not that I'm complaining of course. Though this time again, Chandra seems to win the award for best quip of the chapter.

Isn't that nice... You're finally speaking a language I'm familiar with.

"Gag talk" is indeed an universal language. And the running gag about Russian underwear is a close second.

Don't have much to say about this part. Uniform stealings are solid, as always. The narration builds the suspense, and it does it well. As always, I like how some teams allegiances can quickly change. (I'm talking about Evelyn's team now having to consider Mrs Caldwell an enemy.) It always keeps me on edge. I think I spotted a nice touch: I like how the narration builds the tension, and at the same time tensions are growing between the main teams. It's a nice parallel. I like it (save for one detail, but I'll develop it below).

However, when it comes to character development, I'll be honest and say this is maybe the first time I have mixed feelings about your writing. I'm talking about the falling out between Felicia and Bobbie. Maybe I'm alone to think that, but I really think it was abnormally rushed. For something which was anticipated/teased/foreshadowed during the entire story (and even during the previous volume), literally for months perhaps even years in real life, it happened so quickly... Even from a story perspective, their years-long friendship is ended very easily: They share ten lines, during which none gives a very compelling argument, then Felicia states she never wants to talk to Bobbie again.
Now, the result feels logical, given the two characters' trajectories - in fact, it's what I anticipated. I'm only talking about the pace of the scene. As I said before, the development feels way too rushed as far as I'm concerned... Usually, whether I like or not your character developments, I can always say it's well led, it feels natural and logical. This is the first time I have reservations.
Of course, I admit I'm having an on-the-spot reaction, and I can clearly see the development isn't over. I'll try and wait until the epilogue to give my general impressions.

About that cliffhanger, I don't know what to think. The rational part in me remembers you dislike killing off characters, so I'm telling to myself: 'Why would you start now?' However, the fellow writer in me also sees the potential of the scene. Felicia being hurt - or even killed - right at that moment could bring powerful tragedy. She's just had a falling out with Bobbie, and Bridget is having troubles adjusting with the fact her lifestyle can hurt her friends. The sad (but emotionally powerful) scenes would write themselves... I know it's classic, but the trope is damn effective. So I'm left waiting for the answer. Did I mention I was tempted to wait until the volume was finished to read all that remains in one go? I won't deny there's a feeling of frustration, of wanting to know how everything will end and what will become of each characte. But I guess for the writer, this is a good sign. It means I'm invested.

[simon4242]

got to disagree not rushed at all its been foreshadowed quite a while as for how long the friendship is and how suddenly the friendship is broken it is believable , people change and it can be overnight and if your friend is doing something that you finds immoral and does not want to change than its quite realistic you would cut ties

[tirepanted3]

I'll be honest. When I saw this new instalment, and most importantly when I saw it wasn't the end of the volume, I was tempted to not read it immediately, and to wait until all the chapters were posted. Because I knew how this was going to end. I knew this was going to leave me craving for more... craving for the conclusion... But against my better judgement, I read it...

Against your better judgment, perhaps... but I'm glad you did. It's possible my stories are better when read all at once, but I like the idea of dropping them chapter by chapter and seeing how people react to each one.

The quips are indeed aplenty in this volume. I actually wrote the whole scene with Chandra and the Russian-speaking soldier based around that line you quoted. I liked the idea of two women who speak two different languages achieve some level of "understanding" of one another with "gag talk" and wrote a whole scene around it.

Building tension is definitely a key component for this chapter. We're nearing the conclusion of this volume - shouldn't be more than a couple of chapters left - so this is where the tension really ramps up. Stories intertwine, characters form unlikely alliances and face unexpected betrayals, all that fun stuff.

I didn't see the Felicia-Bobbi fallout as rushed, in part because it has been building for a few volumes now (they've had diverging views on uniform stealing going back a while), and because Felicia has been struggling to communicate with Bobbi about her feelings - trying a few times in the past to point out her discomfort, only to be met with dismissal. Bobbi has been more oblivious to Felicia's concerns for a while, which is why it probably feels abrupt to her - the two women have been operating on different wavelengths for a while now.

And yes, sorry about that cliffhanger. I was writing that scene just as I was approaching the character limit for a single forum post, and considered splitting it in two, but decided it was probably long enough for now, so I cut it off. I don't normally do such abrupt cliffhangers, but we're approaching the climax now, and it felt like a good way to ramp up the tension. Hopefully people won't have long to wait for the next chapter...