Uniform Stealing Board

Found a little time to quickly catch up, though I don't have much more to say. We're in the middle of the story, the different threads are progressing (nice metaphor with the threads and the tapestry by the way). I must admit that I'm impressed by your dedication to write so many different story threads at the same time. Personally, at least at the moment, Rescue Operation completely put me off trying again.

I agree that this is how it is in the USB universe, but I always like it when some characters show reluctance, second-thoughts or even outright dislike at the idea of stealing uniforms. Having them being reluctant (to diverse degrees) such as with Lorelei allows to create different kind of scenes and interactions, therefore it brings diversity. (I don't know what you think about that but, with the number of stories now published on this board, I find it more and more difficult to not become redundant.)

As for the scenes themselves, I don't have much more to add compared to the previous comments. Indeed, it's nice to see a crate back. And of course, the details you keep adding are a good way to avoid redundance and give a scene its own little particularity (for instance little physical features like the tattoo, the colour teal - I didn't even know this colour or this word existed ...)

I understand not wanting to write more multi-thread stories - it can be incredibly challenging to keep track of all the different narratives and story arcs. But I try to make the world of these characters feel as immersive as possible. The truth is, I'm trying not to introduce too many brand-new characters in this volume (I think Linda is the only one who has never been mentioned before), since I've already introduced a few dozen in the earlier volumes and would prefer to develop their stories further instead of introducing new ones. I think it can be a little easier to juggle multiple storylines once most of the characters have been established.

I think the women's various receptions to the idea of stealing uniforms - ranging from thrilled to repulsed and everywhere in between - is important both for "diversifying" scenes and developing the different personalities. It definitely helps keep some of the scenes from feeling redundant.

Glad you're learning about new colors from my stories! Yes, I'm always looking for new details; no two women should have the same underwear.

The sedan with the tinted windows and government-issued plates cruised across the road. The three agents inside were eager to return to FBI headquarters after a lengthy night and morning of fieldwork.

All three women were dressed professionally - dark suits and ties, white shirts, sensible black shoes, dark glasses. The driver had short strawberry-blonde hair, while the woman seated beside her was tan-skinned with her hair in a black bun. In the back was a fair-skinned, younger woman with her brown hair tied in a short ponytail.

The women spoke little as they approached the facility, preferring to discuss their case once they were secure at headquarters. As they rounded the corner, however, all three raised their eyebrows in surprise.

By the side of the road stood a woman in her early twenties, looking tired but triumphant. Seated beside her was a brown-skinned woman in handcuffs, staring dejectedly at the ground. The young lady waved at the FBI sedan as it approached.

The driver immediately recognized the handcuffed woman from her perusal of criminal files - Zuhal Azimi, a henchwoman of Karima al-Bariqi. She stopped the car and rolled down the window.

"Young lady," she addressed the tall girl. "What is the meaning of this?"

Bobbi smiled. "I just caught this wanted criminal, and was bringing her to the FBI for incarceration. Had to stop for a rest... she's a feisty one."

So saying, Bobbi delivered a kick to Zuhal's leg, smiling slightly as she did so. Zuhal winced, but said nothing.

The blonde FBI agent nodded to her two cohorts. Then all three opened doors and stepped out of the car.

"How did you find her?" the blonde asked, approaching Bobbi.

"It was easy," Bobbi smiled with a wave of her hand. "She wasn't very good at hiding... and even worse at putting up a fight."

As Bobbi talked, Bridget quietly emerged from hiding on the opposite side of the road and slowly crept up behind the two rearmost agents.

In one swift motion, she grabbed the heads of the two dark-haired women and swiftly brought them together. The girls' heads collided with a coconut-like sound, and both immediately lost consciousness.

The blonde whirled. "What the hell?" Spotting Bridget holding the insensible forms of her two comrades, she reached for her gun.

Bobbi immediately tackled her, sending her to the ground. Bridget dropped the other two agents and hurried to help her friend.

But the blonde was no pushover. She dealt a punch to Bobbi's midsection, and a sweep-kick sent Bridget's legs out from under her.

Looming over Bobbi, the infuriated agent raised her foot and prepared to stomp on the girl's head... Bobbi was too preoccupied by the pain in her stomach to dodge...

"Uhhhnnn!"

The blonde's eyes rolled back in her forehead. She pitched forward and slumped to the ground.

Zuhal stood over her, brandishing the butt of the brunette agent's gun as a cosh. "Sleep well, sweet princess."

Bobbi got to her feet, apprehensively. She glared at Zuhal, who appeared to be inspecting the gun as a curious child would inspect a new toy.

"Don't..." Bobbi said angrily.

Zuhal looked up. "What? No 'thank you'? I just saved your ass from a very thorough whupping."

"Azimi," Bridget approached. "We talked about this. Yo're not allowed to carry a gun, remember?"

Zuhal nodded and smiled, her white teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Of course. Just thought I'd use it to help Bobbi... in a non-lethal way, of course."

"Just drop the gun," Bobbi said tersely.

Zuhal let go of the weapon and watched as it hit the ground. She smiled at Bobbi. "There we go. Friends?"

Bobbi ignored her. "Come on, let's strip these bimbos before they wake up."

After dragging the women into some tall bushes beside the road, the three would-be infiltrators wasted no time in divesting the agents of their clothes. Beneath their professional attire, the FBI women wore spartan white bras and briefs - except the brunette, who had a tangerine plunge bra and hot pink hipster panties.

"Guess someone doesn't like following professional regulations," Zuhal mused.

Bobbi ignored her as she began buttoning up her newly stolen white shirt.

Zuhal sighed and began donning another set of clothes.

Before long, Bridget, Bobbi, and Zuhal looked quite imposing, dressed in their dark suits, white shirts, black ties, and sunglasses.

"We look like the characters in that movie," Zuhal chuckled. "You know, 'Women in Black' or something."

Bobbi sighed. "Can we get serious?"

Zuhal rolled her eyes. "What are you so uncomfortable with, honey?" she said. "You don't have anything to fear from me. I mean yeah, you once knocked me out, stripped me, and tied me up. But then I did the same thing to you a few weeks ago! We're even now."

Bridget stepped in. "Zuhal, why don't you go tie up those women? I'd like to talk to Bobbi in private."

Zuhal smiled and held up a roll of duct tape. "Sounds like a plan."

As Zuhal stepped away, Bridget turned to her young friend. "Bobbi, please. We talked about this. We need her help."

"I know that," Bobbi said tersely. "But one of us needs to keep an eye on her at all times."

"Absolutely. I wouldn't be a journalist if I didn't know how to maintain a healthy degree of skepticism." Bridget smiled.

After a few moments, Bobbi managed to smile back.

Zuhal returned from the bushes, having securely bound and gagged the three women within. "You gals ready to roll?"

Brdget nodded. "Let's go."

They piled into the car, Bridget taking the driver's seat. From beside her, Zuhal strapped in. "So your friend will meet us inside?"

"She will," Bridget replied. "I hope..."

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

It was simple, once Felicia knew how.

She had gotten past the fences by clinging to the underside of a large truck. Not the most comfortable or dignified infiltration, but a few oil stains were worth sneaking past the guards.

The FBI complex had been equipped with the finest, most high-tech advancements in 21st-century technology, but their ventilation system looked like it had been built in the 1970s. Thus, once she had found an opening from the outside of the building, away from the cameras and guards, and worked it open. She slipped inside, replacing the vent behind her.

Felicia's lithe form allowed her to traverse the maze of the ventilation system with little difficulty. She moved quickly but quietly, hoping that the people below would attribute the occasional thumping noises as faulty air-conditioning.

Eventually, she exited the shaft and dropped down into an empty storage room. A row of lab coats hung on one wall; Felicia took one and put it on, buttoning it up to her neck.

"Easy as pie," she smiled.

A sound from behind made her jump. It was a whimpering noise, albeit a muffled one, coming from the corner of the room.

Moving some boxes out of the way, Felicia looked in surprise. On the floor of the storage room were two tall women, seated back to back. They had been bound with thick ropes and tightly gagged with cloths. The brunette woman wore a purple-and-white comfort bra and pink panties, while her Asian friend had a green triangle bra and boyshorts.

Felicia's first thought was that Bridget and Bobbi had taken these two women out for disguises. But judging by the redness of their wrists and ankles, the women had clearly been in their current predicament for several hours. Evidently, there were two other uniform thieves roaming the FBI premises.

The women looked pleadingly at Felicia, clearly begging her to untie them. But Felicia just smiled sympathetically and shook her head. "Sorry, girls. Afraid I'm a little busy today."

She did, however, take a minute to admire the intricate ropework on the women's wrists and ankles. Clearly, the muggers were professionals. Felicia sighed nostalgically. "If not for the bet, I'd probably find a third girl to join you," she told the two helpless women. "But I'll be back to stealing clothes soon enough."

She left the struggling - and now very confused - women in the storage room and shut the door behind her.

Two men in lab coats were standing by the elevator as Felicia approached.

"...an incredible discovery," one was saying. "Imagine, the possibility of alien life!"

Felicia's ears perked.

"Don't be ridiculous," the other man said. "It's all speculative at this point."

"Well, let's go to the lab now. We'll see how research is progressing."

Felicia had been highly preoccupied these last few weeks - getting ready to graduate college, hunting down stories with Bridget and Bobbi. But she had not forgotten her fascination with the possibilities of extraterrestrials.

As long as she was here, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to take a little detour...

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

Verna and Doreen crawled along the marsh, ensuring they could not be spotted from across the lake.

All was quiet. All was...

"Ouch!" Doreen smacked the side of her neck.

Verna put a finger to her lips, speaking in hushed tones. "Shhh! You want to get us killed?"

Doreen lowered her voice. "Sorry... it's these mosquitoes. Wish I'd brought some bug spray."

"You're covered from head to toe in body armor," Verna replied. "How are you getting mosquito bites?"

"Those stinging pests always find a vulnerable spot."

"Well, try to keep it down," Verna continued. "We're about fifty yards from Karima and her crew. A sniper could take us both out from this distance, unless we keep quiet."

"Fine," Doreen replied. "But what do we do as we get closer? If Karima spots a couple of women in body armor approaching her hideout, she's liable to shoot first and ask questions never."

"Fair point." Verna thought. "We may need to change clothes."

Doreen rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I left my miniskirt at home."

Verna shook her head. "No, we'll need to steal clothes."

"You mean like... shoplifting? There are no stores around here!"

Verna sighed. "Girl, are you for real? You've been on dozens of covert missions, probably more than me or Lorelei. You never mugged any women for their outfits?"

Doreen considered. "Oh yeah... once or twice. Chloroformed and stripped a waitress in Washington one time so I could spy on a corrupt foreign leader at a party. Had to use zip-ties on her... I'm no good with tying knots."

"Well, now's your chance for some practice," Verna replied, pointing. "Look."

A small truck with signage for "Dennison Drilling, LLC." had pulled up beyond a grove of trees. Two women in overalls and mud-caked boots hopped out.

Verna smiled at Doreen. "Those uniforms look inconspicuous enough. Shall we?"

Doreen smiled back. "I believe we shall."

Bianca and Olive were unaware of the two women silently approaching from behind them.

Instead, they were reviewing the plan. "It'll be easy as cake," Bianca said. "Just act dashing and heroic, and Prema won't suspect a thing."

"What if Karima thinks we're cops or something and tries to shoot us?" Olive asked. "She's never met us before, so how will she recognize us?"

"It's fine," Bianca replied. "I texted her while you were driving. Described what we look like and the clothes we're wearing. She won't get nervous."

"I still don't feel right about this," Olive said nervously. "Isn't she a wanted criminal? I don't know if we should be making deals with her..."

Bianca sighed. "Don't start this now..."

"I'm serious! I have a family to think about. We were attacked and stripped and tied up by terrorists last week. What if that happens again... or worse?"

"Why would it happen again?" Bianca scoffed. "No one would want to steal these patchy old uniforms. You're worrying over nothing."

"Well... I wouldn't say it's 'nothing'..."

Bianca and Olive turned in surprise. Behind them were two tall women in black body armor, aiming guns at them.

"Who the hell...?" Bianca started.

"We're FBI agents," Verna explained. "Please pardon the intrusion, but... we will need your uniforms."

Olive sighed. "Of course you goddamned will."

Bianca impulsively reached for her hip... then remembered she had left her gun in the glove compartment.

"Hands where we can see them, please," Verna instructed. "Step back to that truck... quietly! And get into the back."

Olive groaned. "Are you really going to take our clothes?"

"Believe me, we know how you feel," Doreen smiled sympathetically. "But we gotta do it. Come on, let's move."

Angry but resigned, Olive and Bianca were marched back to the van. They opened the rear doors and stepped inside, the FBI agents following. Verna shut the door so they could have their little "meeting" in private.

A mere nine minutes later, Verna and Doreen emerged from the truck, adjusting their overalls and testing the feel of their new boots.

"Not bad," Verna mused. "Should get us to Karima without much incident."

"And those two won't be raising the alarm," Doreen noted.

Olive and Bianca sat on the cold floor of the van, whimpering. Both had been stripped to their underwear; Bianca wore a blue T-shirt bra and pearl-hued boyshorts, while Olive had a (fittingly) olive-colored demi bra and pink panties. Both women were tape-gagged, though their binds were different - Bianca had been bound with ropes, while Olive had been secured with zip-ties.

Verna sized the victims up. "You gotta learn to tie knots someday, honey."

"I swear I will," Doreen replied. "But we're on something of a time budget now..."

"Right you are... Let's go."

Olive and Bianca were left struggling in the dark van. It was especially frustrating for Bianca, whose expert knot-untying skills were useless against the tight zip-ties.

I knew this was a bad idea, she thought.

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

Valencia was beside herself with anger.

"Once," she fumed. "Once was enough. But twice! How could the plan fail twice?"

Willa shook her head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Really, I am. Toshiko guaranteed me she could do the job..."

"Toshiko is a lying bitch," Valencia snarled. "She and her goons had the very simple task of planting a bomb in the basement of Cerberus... yet just like Karima, she couldn't even muster that!"

"And she's not answering her phone," Willa said in annoyance. "What shall we do?"

Valencia turned to her chief confidante, eyes twitching. "You shall pay her a visit," she said tersely. "Convince her to complete the job. Should she refuse... you shall break her kneecaps. Is that clear?"

Willa nodded and smiled. "Crystal, ma'am."

"Get moving." Valencia waved her away.

After Willa had left her employer's bedroom/office, Valencia got up from her desk and padded over to the walk-in closet. She swung open the door.

"It's impossible to get good help these days," she said. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Seated on the floor of the closet, bound back-to-back, were a pair of women dressed only in their underwear. they simply glared at their captress.

FBI agents Tessa and Mallory had been prisoners of Valencia Steele for several days now, ever since they had been discovered in the bushes behind her mansion. Evidently, they had been mugged and their clothes stolen; Valencia did not know by whom, nor did she much care. She decided to take the two government agents captive herself - a tempting bargaining chip, should the need arise.

"You can't keep us here forever!" Tessa said indignantly.

Mallory nodded. "Eventually, our superiors will start wondering where we are."

Valencia laughed. "Girls, if they were aware you were missing... don't you think they would have found you already? Just sit tight and enjoy the sight of my shoe collection."

Chuckling again, she shut the closet door.

Much had gone wrong in Valencia Steele's life lately; still, she was always willing to have a good laugh.

And she planned to have the last one.

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

The FBI's main computer database stored over three hundred terrabytes of data on Sub-level 5, the detailed computers minded and managed by some of the most brilliant women and men on the planet. Contained in the encrypted files therein was information on nearly every criminal the federal government had kept tabs on for the last thirty years.

It was a treasure trove of data, one destined to please even the hungriest of information-seekers. But outside of a few high-ranking federal officials, access to Sub-level 5 was restricted only to the two dozen or so technicians who worked among the data banks.

These employees were easily distinguished by their outfits - light blue skinsuits with insulated orange gloves and boots, plus blue-tinted safety goggles. The uniforms were designed for protection in the high-voltage environment, shielding the wearer from any unwanted power surges.

Riley didn't love the uniform, but rules were rules. The young redhead had worked as an FBI computer technician just long enough to learn that it was best to comply with the mandated "dress code." So it was that she was suited up and making the rounds of the computer banks, ensuring they were all humming along as planned.

Amidst the humming, there came a soft growl. Riley tapped her stomach. She had overslept that morning, and had not had time to eat a proper breakfast.

A glance at her watch told her she was on schedule, and had just enough time to grab a burrito on Level 3. Tucking her clipboard beneath one arm, she headed back down the hall.

"Going somewhere, sport?" Alexis called. The dark-skinned, raven-haired tomboy was Riley's most upbeat coworker. She was currently seated at her laptop, coding some new files into the database.

"Just grabbing a late breakfast," Riley smiled. "Wanna come?"

Alexis closed her laptop. "I already had breakfast," she mused. "But I wouldn't say no to an early lunch."

The two women chatted as they stepped down the quiet hall toward the elevator.

As Riley was about to press the elevator button, there was a ding. She stepped back in surprise as the elevator doors slid open.

Two tall and well-muscled women emerged from the elevator, clad in black security armor. They smiled down at Riley and Alexis.

"Well," Chandra smiled. "So nice of you girls to save us the trouble."

"I'm sorry," Alexis began. "You need clearance to be on this floor. You can't..."

Her voice trailed off as she saw that both women were pointing guns at them.

"Sweetheart," Sonja chuckled. "You will provide us with the necessary clearance."

Both technicians raised their hands. Riley tried to formulate words. "We... What..."

"Into that closet," Chandra ordered. "Any false move will be your last."

Submissively, the technicians stepped into the large walk-in supply closet, the two gunwomen behind them.

Chandra shut the door. "Strip," she ordered.

Alexis blinked. "What the hell?"

"Your clothes," Sonja explained. "Hand 'em over."

Alexis opened her mouth wide - perhaps to protest, perhaps to scream. The others never found out the reason, as Chandra quickly closed her jaw with a sharp right hook that sent her to the floor.

Stepping over the unconscious Alexis, Chandra now looked at Riley. "Okay, cupcake. Are you going to undress, or am I going to have to bruise my knuckles on your jaw as well?"

Riley gulped and shook her head. She began unzipping the uniform.

It was okay, she tried to tell herself. She never liked this uniform, anyway...

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

The black van cruised down the long, narrow stretch of the Interstate 4 highway.

Cassandra sat in the driver's seat, eyes focused on the road ahead. Still, her mind was elsewhere... thinking... wondering...

"Mind if I put on some music?"

Cassandra blinked. "What?"

From the seat beside her, Marina held up her smartphone. "I got music. Lady Gaga, Beyonce... What do you prefer?"

Cassandra's eyes remained fixed on the road. "Put on whatever you want."

Marina lowered her phone. "You okay, Cass? You look distracted."

"Just... concentrating on the job ahead."

Marina nodded. "Okay. I just thought you were focused on Toshiko and her sister. I know I was."

Cassandra sighed. "Fine. Yes. A little."

"It's weird, right?" Marina brightened, happy to gossip. "I thought for sure Toshi would join us on the color guard job. But now she's got a sister to take care of! I've never seen her so... sympathetic before."

"Probably because she's a scheming witch," Cassandra muttered.

"Say again?"

Cassandra turned the van onto the exit ramp. "Toshiko is hiding something. Maybe more than one thing. I just know it."

"But... she's our friend!" Marina replied. "She's got a lot on her mind lately... having to take over from Sloane. She's probably just preoccupied."

"Right... Sloane..." Cassandra grew silent.

They continued on the road quietly for the next several minutes. Finally, Marina brightened.

"Up ahead! There's the stadium!"

"Yes, I see it." Cassandra turned the wheel. "Get ready for action."

Marina rubbed her hands together. "I always am."

Two female guards stood at the front entrance. The blonde and redhead looked up as the van approached.

"How thoughtful," Marina whispered with a giggle. "The stadium was nice enough to find two guards who are just the right size."

Cassandra pulled up to the guards and rolled down the window. "Morning, ladies," she said, going right into her act. "My girlfriend and I are a bit lost, and I was hoping you could help..."

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

Lucinda pulled her bike over to the side of the dirt road.

"Damn," she said, brow furrowing. "Think one of my tires is loose."

Dr. Chen and Meredith came to a stop beside her.

Lucinda sighed. "Sorry... don't mean to hold things up."

Dr. Chen dismissed her concerns. "No worries. Please, fix the bike. Can't have you falling and getting hurt."

Lucinda smiled back and pulled a small wrench from the bike's rear compartment. "Thanks. This shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

As Lucinda got to work, Dr. Chen surveyed their surroundings. They were on a bike path that ran alongside a cliff's edge, overlooking a rocky plain. In the distance, she could see buildings - and, most notably, the NASA space center.

Dr. Chen stepped closer to the railing and smiled. She was almost home. Almost ready to begin her revenge on those that had wronged her.

She clutched the railing, shut her eyes, and breathed deeply, allowing the cool mountain air to fill her lungs. Never had she felt so alive.

Meredith watched Dr. Chen with a mixture of fear and disgust. How she hated this woman. Hated her so very much...

Lucinda's back was turned, as she worked on her upturned bicycle. She did not notice as Meredith slowly stepped closer to the cliff... and to Dr. Chen.

It would be simple. A quick push, and Meredith's troubles would be over. She would claim that the doctor had lost her balance. Lucinda would believe that. She had no reason to doubt her wife.

One push, and Dr. Chen would be gone forever. Meredith moved closer...

"Done!"

Lucinda stood up. Dr. Chen turned, and Meredith's hands quickly fell to her sides.

"Lovely view, isn't it?" she asked innocently.

Dr. Chen nodded. "The loveliest," she said cryptically.

She appeared unaware of how close her plans - and her life - had just come to ending.

"Let's get moving." Lucinda remounted her bike.

Dr. Chen and a reluctant Meredith followed suit.

"Can't wait to get to NASA," Lucinda mused as they began riding. "I've always wanted to be an astronaut."

"We're not here for astronautics," Dr. Chen replied. "We're here for revenge, pure and simple."

"I know that," Meredith replied. "But I don't have any connection to NASA. I want revenge on Bridget... Prema... Moira..."

"And we will get them all," Dr. Chen said. "I promise."

Lucinda smiled. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Riding behind them, Meredith silently fumed. She wanted Dr. Chen removed from the picture... yet she also wanted to pay back those who'd wronged her and Lucinda. And Dr. Chen seemed like the one who could organize the perfect plan.

Meredith decided to go along with it for now.

"But we will have a reckoning, Julia," she muttered.

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

"It was the crime of the century..."

No.

"There was more going on at the steel mill than mere air pollution..."

Nope.

"Rucon? More like Ru-CONning people out of their money!"

Ugh.

Moira hit the backspace button and ran her fingers through her hair. Coming up with an opening line for her Rucon expose was harder than it looked.

But she needed the piece to be perfect. She couldn't risk Bridget grabbing the front page again. She had a great story on her hands; if only she knew how to tell it.

She got up and began pacing her apartment.

"Coffee... need coffee. I've only had two cups this morning..."

As she headed for the kitchen to brew a fresh pot, she neglected to look out the window. Had she done so, she may have noticed a tall woman on a motorbike pulling up in front of the large six-story brownstone.

Linda removed her helmet and stepped off the bike. She checked the street and building address - they matched the information she'd managed to accrue.

Her phone buzzed, and she gingerly answered. "Hi, boss."

"Status update," Cheryl demanded. "Have you located the nosy reporter?"

"Think I have," Linda smiled. "Her name's Moira Mills. I'm standing in front if her apartment now."

"Well, don't dawdle," Cheryl replied. "That woman could destroy Rucon with a single article. Make sure her findings go... unreported."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Silence her by any means necessary," Cheryl ordered. "Is that clear?"

"It is," Linda assured her employer. "Don't worry about a thing." But Cheryl had already hung up.

Linda made her way around the rear of the building, looking for an easy entrance. Security being what it was, she couldn't simply waltz through the door.

Still, she wouldn't need to. In the lot behind the building, a custodian was currently taking out the trash. The dark-haired, tan-skinned woman wore a blue smock, black pants, and brown shoes. A ring of keys dangled from her belt.

Linda's eyes lit up. Keys... presumably, to every room in the building. Helpful, that.

The custodian had her back turned and was dropping a few heavy trash bags into the dumpster. Linda approached her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder.

The woman turned in surprise. Linda smiled at her. "Lovely day for a mugging, isn't it?"

Before the perplexed woman could respond, Linda dealt her a sudden, striking neck chop. She caught the falling woman and dragged her into an alley, out of sight.

Linda emerged from the alley minutes later, buttoning up the smock. It was a size too small, but she would cope. The pants and shoes seemed comfortable; they would certainly do for the short term.

With a last glance at the real custodian - stashed in the dark end of the alley, bound and gagged and dressed only in her strapless vanilla bra and pink heart-embroidered panties - Linda headed for the rear entrance, jingling her keys.

"Time to stop the presses," she chuckled.

this is what I love the most, scenes ending in the bushes near the road

Bobbi ignored her. "Come on, let's strip these bimbos before they wake up."

After dragging the women into some tall bushes beside the road, the three would-be infiltrators wasted no time in divesting the agents of their clothes

mr Tirepanted thanks for feeding my obscure hunger

Yes, they're quite a good hiding place. I'm in middle of writing the next chapter now, and I can tell you that we haven't seen the last of USB victims getting stowed in the bushes.

Felicia's subplot may be one of my favorite of this story due to how surrealistically funny it is by the standards of this Board. Though I worry not, I'm sure she will make up for it once the bet is over. Bobbie might be a little too rude towards the victims with the FBI agents (I still remember how she was the one reluctant and sorry to mug people it in the first story, she surely changed due to her experiences ), after technically can't you blame people for trying to resist when you are clearly the aggressor?, though I guess it's also due to the fact that she just got hit in the stomach.

The scene between Olive, Bianca, Verna and Doreen was so ironically funny, I needed to point it out. This is one of my favorite kind of scenarios from your stories: uniform stealers that end up mugged precisely because of the uniforms they stole. Olive's ans Bianca's plan fell through before they could even reach Karima. Loved the irony of Doreen's lack of skills to tie people being the exact reason why Bianca can't free herself. Also, Olive has an olive-colored bra. Logical. More seriously, this is in my opinion the biggest advantage of having so many story lines at the same time: it allows for plenty of possibilities for them to interact with each other, and therefore for twists. I admit that for now I appreciate a lot more the intrigue centered around the FBI, the chase for Karima and Chen than the one centered around the sport tournament. For now, the two seem a little too disjoint and the intrigue centered around the sport tournament is a little secondary given the fact that all (most of) the main recurring characters aren't taking part in it, therefore for now (while it's very well-written, as always), whenever the intrigue centered around the sport even pops up I'm mostly waiting for the other intrigue to return. (Except when it comes to the interactions between Toshiko's team, I wonder how they will react when they'll learn the truth about Sloane...) Will these stories cross at one point?

Nice little scene with Riley (and Alexis).

Good banter in general, though I won't overflood this comment by quoting all the lines. Verna's and Doreen's discussions about zip-ties and knots, "She never liked this uniform, anyway...", "The stadium was nice enough to find two guards who are just the right size.", "Lovely day for a mugging, isn't it?"

"More like Ru-CONning people out of their money!" I should be punished for laughing at that pun...

I wasn't sure how well Felicia's subplot would be received, given that it doesn't follow the typical rules of the Board, so I'm glad you like it. And yes, Bobbi has grown a lot since the first story; she's probably one of the most prolific and enthusiastic uniform stealers in the series, which is not something you'd expect from the first volume.

I've always like the "muggers getting mugged" scenarios - it's a fun way to tie storylines together. I hear your point about the FBI thread being more intriguing than the sports thread. The latter is a more lightweight story to help balance the more dramatic (though hopefully still funny) search for Karma story. But fear not, these stories will converge eventually. The only thread that is really isolated from the others is the one with Dr. Chen/Meredith/Lucinda. Probably won't be seeing a lot of characters interact with them until Volume 5 (which might end up the final volume in the series).

And don't worry, i give you full permission to laugh at my puns, no matter how bad they are.

Another phenomenal chapter.

The chapter had an amazing start with the three FBI agents and I'm not going to lie, I've heard coconuts being smacked together before so I truly knew the pain those agents were going to go through when they woke up. Plus I have a funny that at some point, there's going to be a confrontation between Zuhal, Bobbi and Bridget.

Felicia's first was truly an interesting one, she actually found her disguise hung up on the wall, nicely done, a brief change to the norm, but then she found those two scientists in that predicament which then made me raise my eyebrow in anticipation. I like how you write these sort of scenes Tirepanted3, the air of mystery is a humbling feeling and always has me eager to read more.

Haha, I absolutely loved the entire scene featuring Bianca and Olive getting the table turned on them by Verna and Doreen, nicely done.

Well where ever Chandra and Riley hide Riley, I hope the sound of her grumbling stomach doesn't accidentally blow their cover.

As I said above, this was another truly fantastic chapter, with well written characters and some great dialogue between them. I personally can't wait to read through the next chapter.

Just to clarify, the two women that Felicia finds in the closet are not scientists, but security guards. They were mugged by Chandra and Sonja earlier in the story. Just thought I'd bring them back as a continuity nod.





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

Adelaide made her way through the marble halls of the stadium, tray in hand. She occasionally passed another employee, but they would hardly glance at her.

Her disguise was working. Still, masquerading as the "Southern Meats" girl was merely a warm-up for her real plan - one which could prove far riskier.

Still, Adelaide was a woman who took risks - particularly if there was money involved. She carried on until she reached the northern wing of the stadium.

The small office was at the end of the hall, far away from the noise of the stadium. Adelaide drew herself up and knocked.

"It's open," came a woman's voice.

Adelaide opened the door and stepped gingerly inside, careful not to spill the drinks on her tray. "Good morning, ma'am," she smiled.

The referee was tall and fit, dressed in a black-and-white striped shirt, black pants, and white sneakers. Over her short blonde hair was a white baseball cap, and a silver whistle was tied and draped over her neck. She smiled at Adelaide. "Can I help you?"

Adelaide held up the tray. "Just thought you might like some refreshments before the game starts."

The referee laughed and shook her head. "Oh... thank you, but no. I need to stay focused. The tournament is starting soon, and I need to have a level head if I'm going to judge the color guard teams fairly."

Adelaide was prepared for the possibility that the referee would opt not to accept the secretly drugged drink, and had a backup plan. She set the tray down and shut the door with her foot. "I understand," she said, approaching the blonde. "You must look your best... Speaking of which," she drew a handkerchief from her pocket, "let me clean off that awful stain on your uniform."

"Stain?" The referee looked down. "What are you talking abou...MMMMPPPHHH!!"

Her eyes opened wide as the handkerchief was pressed against her nose and mouth.

With her free arm, Adelaide pinned the blonde against the wall, her leverage allowing her to keep the woman stuck. The blonde struggled, but Adelaide held on, her chloroform-soaked cloth never budging from the woman's face.

The referee continued to struggle, but her strength was clearly draining. She managed a few more heaves and gurgles before the chloroform fumes overcame her. Her eyes flickered shut, and she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Clearing off the woman's desk, Adelaide lay the referee down upon it and began stripping her. She began by unlacing the sneakers, then pulling down the trousers. She unbuttoned the woman's shirt and worked it off her.

The referee was now down to her white cotton push-up bra and black florally-trimmed tanga panties. Judging by the colors, Adelaide began to wonder if the underwear was an official part of the uniform, but she dispensed with the thought as she began changing out of her own clothes. There were more important things to concentrate on.

On went the referee uniform; it was an approximate fit, though perhaps a little tight around the hips. Adelaide laced up the sneakers and adjusted the cap over her hair.

Rummaging through the desk drawers, Adelaide found a roll of thick black electrical tape. This she used to secure the referee hand and foot, using a thick strip to cover the woman's mouth.

Pushing the bound and gagged woman beneath the desk, Adelaide checked herself over in the reflection of the metal tray she had stolen from the refreshments girl. She subconsciously toyed with the whistle cord around her neck.

"Not bad... not bad." But was it good enough? She had to fool an entire stadium of people with this uniform. If anyone suspected the woman calling the shots was not the real referee, or intentionally being favorable to the Tampa team, the jig was up.

Taking a deep breath, Adelaide set down the tray and headed for the door.

"Game on," she smiled.

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

With a flick of her wrist, Yasmin knocked the king piece right off the board. "I win again!"

Sabira scowled, but tried to keep her temper. "Best of eleven?"

"No way. Just admit I'm the chess champion and pay up."

"Would you two be quiet?" Karima called from the adjoining room. "I'm trying to work."

"Sorry, boss." Yasmin began clearing off the chessboard. "I'm getting tired of winning this game, anyhow. Gotta find something more challenging."

Sabira clenched her fists. She was about to reply when a small red bulb in the ceiling began to flash.

Karima poked her head into the main room. "That's the silent alarm!" she hissed. "Someone is in the area!"

Yasmin peeked out the window. "I see them... two women in factory uniforms. Coming this way."

Karima's expression softened. "That would be Bianca and her friend," she said. "They're here to get Prema. Let them in."

"I still say letting these women play 'heroes' is a dumb way to spend our time," Sabira groused.

Karima said nothing, although she could not easily disagree.

As the two women approached, Yasmin opened the door. "Come on in, girls," she smiled.

"Don't mind in we do," Doreen replied. She stepped in and slammed her fist into Yasmin's jaw.

Yasmin staggered back. Karima gasped. "What the hell?"

Verna elbowed Yasmin sharply in the chest.

Sabira's eyes widened. "Boss, I recognize those two... they're Feds!"

'Dammit!" Karima picked up a vase and threw it at the two newcomers. "Run!"

She and Sabira scrambled out the room, toward the rear exit. Sabira flipped over a table to block the pursuers.

"You're under arrest!" Verna yelled as she began chasing the two, leaving Doreen to deal with Yasmin.

"Not a chance!" Karima called back. She and Sabira headed out the rear door.

The coast was clear, apart from a simple-looking fisherwoman strolling through the grass. Karima didn't give her a second thought. "Let's go!"

Suddenly, the "innocent" fisherwoman drew a gun from her belt. "Freeze!" she said.

Karima stood in shock. "You!"

"We meet again," Lorelei smiled. "You're under arrest, Karima. And this time, there's no escape."

She stepped confidently towards the two women, keeping her gun trained on them the whole time. Behind them, Verna trained her own gun on the duo.

But Lorelei, for all her street-smarts, was new to the Glades. And she was unfamiliar with the trappings and pitfalls of her new surroundings. This became clear as she took her next step - right into a watery sinkhole.

"Aagh!" Lorelei fell forward, hitting the ground and dropping her gun in the process.

Verna stood stunned for a moment - and that moment was all Sabira needed. The athletic criminal kicked out and backwards, hitting the FBI agent in the chin. With an "Uuhnn!" Verna fell backwards, landing on the marshy grass.

Karima quickly scooped up Lorelei's gun. "We're going," she said threateningly. "Get in our way and die."

She and Sabira ran to the trees, where they had concealed their getaway van. Moments later, the sound of an engine filled the air, and the vehicle tore off through the underbrush.

Lorelei staggered to her feet. "Damn it!" She clenched her fists. "Is there no catching that bitch?"

"I knew we should've brought backup," Verna said, rubbing her chin.

Lorelei shot her a look.

"Hey," Doreen appeared in the doorway. "At least we got one of 'em."

She was dragging a handcuffed Yasmin by the shoulders. The smaller woman struggled in the FBI agent's grip.

"Get off me! I know my rights!"

"You have the right to shut the hell up, sweetie," Doreen cooed. "Hey, boss... nice outfit."

Lorelei brushed the dirt from her yellow coveralls. "I guess. Had to 'borrow' it from a local." She sized Yasmin up. "I don't recognize her. Does she have an FBI file?"

"Must be one of Karima's newer recruits," Verna suggested.

Yasmin spat on the ground. "You can't hold me. No prison can hold me."

"Challenge accepted," Lorelei replied. "Come on, girls, let's at least get this one back to headquarters. I'm sure we can get some info out of her."

"Say..." Doreen's ears perked. "You guys hear something?"

It was coming from the a small closet in the rear of the shed. A steady thumping noise... with some muffled cries.

Verna swung open the door. On the floor was a tan-skinned woman, bound and gagged, dressed in what appeared to be an expensive business suit.

Verna removed the gag. Prema gasped. "Oh god, please help me... I can't take this anymore... Why can't people find someone else to kidnap..."

"Easy, honey," Verna smiled. "We're the good guys. You're safe now."

Prema stopped gasping. "...Promise?"

"I promise. Soon as I untie you, we'll go down to FBI headquarters and get this all figured out."

Prema nodded. "Okay... okay. Thank you so much."

She let out a sigh of relief as Verna began cutting through the ropes which bound her.

Thank goodness, she thought. No more craziness today.

She would, unfortunately, be proven quite wrong.

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

"Another dead end," Chandra sighed.

She and Sonja had exited the database level and were now taking the elevator back to the main floor.

"I don't get it," Sonja said. "Did they just not put Lucille in the database yet?"

"Could be," Chandra mused. "Stupid government, takes forever to do the simplest things."

The elevator dinged, and the two women stepped out into the corridor.

"What now?" Sonja asked.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking." An exasperated Chandra ran her fingers through her short black hair. "We can't stay at the FBI forever. Eventually, someone will discover we're impostors. But we need to do something, or this will all have been a waste."

Sonja nodded as they walked down the hall. She tried thinking of something herself, but coming up with plans had never been her strong suit. Back when she worked n the SVR, she just followed orders from others.

Then, as they reached the main corridor, Sonja's eyebrows raised. Three women in dark suits and glasses had entered the main hall. And one of them looked familiar...

Sonja nudged Chandra and discreetly pointed. "That woman... the tallest one. I think I recognize her. She was the waitress at that nightclub where we met Ms. Ventriss, not long before Lucille was arrested. Or at least... she was disguised as a waitress."

"That's ridiculous," Chandra whispered back. "What are the odds that you'd find her here? I..."

Then her own eyebrows shot up. She recognized another one of the three women.

"That young lady... she looks just like another waitress I saw at the nightclub. She was acting very strange. I suspected she might have been a spy."

"Well, your suspicions may have been right," Sonja said. "Shall we follow them?"

"They're the best lead we've got right now," Chandra smiled. "So yes, we follow them. But keep a safe distance... for now."

Bridget, Bobbi, and Zuhal made their way through the corridors of the FBI building... little suspecting that their disguises had already been compromised.

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

"We need to start shaking things up," Marina commented.

Cassandra was in the process of buttoning up her grey uniform shirt. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we always end up disguising ourselves as security guards." Marina adjusted her long dark blue pants. "It's getting dull. There are definitely other types of uniforms worth stealing."

"I know that." Cassandra reached for the black boots and started to work the first one on. "But as you may have noticed, we're taller than average women. We need uniforms that are our size. And there aren't a lot of six-foot cheerleaders running around."

"More's the pity." Marina smiled as she began lacing up her own newly-acquired boots. "I'm just saying, it's not healthy to always fall back on the old 'security guard' trope. We should get creative once in a while."

"You do." Cassandra adjusted the peaked cap on her head, tucking it over her hair. "Those little bows are very creative."

She pointed to the bushes nearby, where the real security guards had been concealed. The redheaded guard wore a lemon-lime sports bra and fuschia panties. The blonde had a purple underwire bra and white cotton hipsters, and sported a small navel ring. Both women had been tied up with generous amounts of tape, but it was the gags to which Cassandra was referring. The guards' mouths were stuffed with pink cloths that had been tied into adorable bows at the nape of the neck.

"I just thought it looked cute," Marina explained. "Those guards looked so serious before we jumped them and knocked them out. Maybe when they wake up, they'll be willing to get more in touch with their feminine side."

Cassandra laughed. "I doubt these two have wore makeup since their senior prom," she commented.

Marina beamed. "Cass, do my ears deceive me? Or did you just crack a joke?"

Cassandra chuckled. "Just trying to cheer myself up," she said. The her face got more serious. "Now come on. We need to get in and finish this job before some gardener starts trimming the bushes and stumbles across these two sleeping beauties."

Marina nodded. "I'm ready when you are."

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

Moira poured some 2% milk into her coffee and began to stir the mug. She admired the swirls, the clean patterns that formed in the beverage.

"Almost hypnotic," she murmured.

She was about to take a sip when a knock came at the door.

"Never a moment's peace," she sighed, setting down the mug. Then, in a louder voice: "Coming!"

She approached the door. "Who's there, please?" Since being kidnapped by Alice and Tamara a few weeks earlier, she had become more cautious about answering the door.

"Custodian," came the female voice from the other side. "I'm here to check the pipes."

Moira was immediately suspicious. "My pipes are fine."

"Not according to the tenants who live right below you," the woman said. "They're complaining of a leak in their ceiling. I need to get in from above to fix them."

This sounded reasonable to Moira. Still, she held a can of pepper spray behind her back as she opened the door. "Come on in."

The custodian was tall and dark-skinned, and her uniform appeared to be a size too small for her. She certainly was not the same custodian Moira typically spotted in the halls.

Moira gestured in the direction of the bathroom. "Pipes are down there... But you're not here for that, are you?"

"I'm sorry?" the woman asked.

Moira whipped the pepper spray out from behind her back and sprayed it directly in the woman's face. "Take that, bitch!"

She smiled triumphantly as the tall woman gasped and clutched at her face.

But her smile faded as she heard steady chuckling.

Linda removed her hands from her face and shut the front door. "Little fool. I've trained for the Olympics, under the harshest weather conditions. You think I haven't built up a resistance to pepper spray?"

Moira gulped. "Um... gotta go."

She tried to run, but Linda was fast. She grabbed Moira's collar and yanked her back. Then she trapped her neck in a wrestler's hold.

"You're going nowhere, honey... except right to sleep."

Moira struggled. She tried sinking her long fingernails into her aggressor's arm, but Linda simply shrugged off the pain.

"Please, honey. If that's the best you can do..."

Moira saw spots before her eyes. She had no way of crying out. Who was this woman?

With a last, defeated gasp, Moira slumped into unconsciousness.

Linda hummed to herself as she strip-searched Moira for weapons. She laid the blonde's phone out on a table. Moira was now left in only her peach-colored bra and blue boyshorts.

Linda used duct tape to secure Moira, folding her legs to her chin and binding her into a ball. Then she retrieved a large black trash bag and stuffed Moira inside. She tied the bag and poked a few holes to allow in some air.

Linda left the apartment, trash bag in hand. She passed a couple walking in the hall.

"Say," the man said. "I thought garbage collection for this floor is tomorrow."

"Just getting a head start," Linda smiled. "It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it."

Heading down to the building's underground garage, she located the custodian's beat-up van, and found the keys in her stolen smock. She tossed the trash bag into the rear and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Hey Siri," she said into her phone as she started the engine. "Set a course for the nearest river."

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

Toshiko sat at the dining table, playing a game of solitaire.

Or trying to, anyway. She couldn't concentrate. So much was happening lately. She had gotten rid of Sloane, which seemed to be making Cassandra suspicious. And now Atsuko had shown up. And Cassandra and Marina were off on a difficult mission without her. And...

"Um..."

Toshiko looked up. Her sister was standing in the doorway.

"How was breakfast?" Toshiko managed a smile, but Atsuko seemed uneasy in returning it.

"It was good," Atsuko said. "Look, I... Carolyn is really nervous. She's been through a lot since last night. Do you think we could... go home?"

Toshiko's face fell. "Already? You just got here."

"I know, but... 'here' isn't really where we need to be. I have a job, and she has one, and..."

"And you're nervous being in a criminal hideout," Toshiko finished.

"What? No! I mean, I just... er..."

"How about this," Toshiko offered. "Why don't I send out for sushi. I know you like that."

Atsuko sighed. "I don't know if..."

"Just a half-hour," Toshiko coninued. "Then I'll take you guys home. Promise."

Atsuko was silent for a minute. "...What kind of sushi?"

Toshiko smiled and reached for the phone.

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

"Marigold, stick to the shadows!"

Meredith scowled. "That's not my name."

"I don't care," Dr. Chen hissed. "It's daytime. If you get spotted, this plan is over before it starts. Stick to the shadows."

Lucinda beckoned her wife over to the grove of trees and bushes. "Come on, honey. We need to hide before security does another sweep."

Meredith nodded. "Okay."

She crouched down beside Lucinda and Dr. Chen, the latter of whom had found a pair of binoculars inside the pack of one of the bikers. She was looking carefully through the gated area of the NASA complex.

"The last time I infiltrated this place," she explained, "it was nighttime. Security should be a little more lax during the day."

"Let's hope," Lucinda nodded. "What's the plan?"

Dr. Chen smiled. "Here it comes now."

Ashley walked along the perimeter of the NASA facility, trying her best to look serious and professional.

It wasn't the easiest task, as she was certainly a bit weary about her current line of work. Since joining the NASA security force, she had been mugged twice, ending up bound and gagged in her underwear both times. Experiences like that would give most people second thoughts about their line of work.

Still, Ashley was nothing if not a trooper. Though most NASA guards were typically fired after getting their uniform stolen once, Ashley had managed to smooth-talk her way back into her boss' good graces twice. She had been given one of the easier posts - a daytime stationing around the entrance to the facility.

And all had been peaceful for the last few weeks. Wearing a new uniform of blue shirt, dark pants, and knee-high boots, Ashley was enjoying her simple and at times dull occupation. Boredom was underrated.

Sadly, for the third time in the recent past, her life was about to get much less boring.

As Ashley strode about twenty feet from the bushes, she heard them rustle. Turning, she saw a smiling woman poke her head out from behind the hedge.

"What!" Allison instinctively reached for her weapon. Then she recognized the woman.

"Dr. Chen?"

Chen smiled warmly. "It's nice to be remembered."

"You... used to work here. But weren't you fired... or arrested, or something?"

Ashley's hand began inching toward her gun again.

Dr. Chen thought quickly. "I've been... away for a while. Business trip. I don't know what the media's been saying about me."

Ashley nodded, slowly. "I... understand. I don't really follow what goes on at the facility itself. I'm just here for security."

"Well, in that case, you can certainly help," Dr. Chen smiled. "I was browsing this area for certain plant species to take on the next space voyage, but I tripped over a root and appear to have twisted my ankle." She winced in pain. "Could you help?"

Ashley nodded. "Of course, ma'am."

She stepped toward the bushes. "Hold out your hand, and I'll... EEK!"

No sooner was Ashley in range then did Meredith and Lucinda spring up from hiding, grab her arms, and pull her into the flora.

"She's just my size," Dr. Chen declared with a smile.

No, no, no! Ashley tried to scream, but Lucinda's hand gagged her mouth. Not again, please, not again!

Meredith hit Ashley with a neck chop. The guard's eyes rolled back in her head.

Why meeee...

"Strip her," Dr. Chen commanded. "And don't dawdle. We're already running late."

Meredith and Lucinda obeyed, though it was at first difficult to do so.

"Damn," Lucinda frowned. "She really laced her boots up tight. Almost impossible to untie them."

Meredith nodded. "Her shirt is buttoned up to the collar. Can hardly undo that top button. What's the deal with that?"

Lucinda smiled. "Maybe she's used to having her clothes stolen, and decided to make them more difficult to remove as a result."

Both women chuckled, not realizing the twinge of truth to their comment.

Dr. Chen simply scowled. "Hurry it up. No time for jokes."

Meredith grew silent as she began undoing the guard's shirt buttons. Still, she smiled as she watched Lucinda pull off the boots.

It was nice to be working together again.

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

Felicia stepped cautiously into the underground science lab. Though her long white coat helped her blend in with the surrounding staff, there was always the concern that someone wouldn't recognize her as one of the scientists, and sound the alarm.

Fortunately, most of the scientists were too engrossed in other projects to stare too intently at the newcomer. Felicia looked around for anything of the extra-terrestrial variety.

Eventually, she found the two men she had followed earlier, at an isolated lab station. They were talking in hushed tones, though Felicia's ears again caught the phrase "alien life."

Eagerly, she approached, and covertly looked over at the computer monitor they were fixated on. The screen displayed what appeared to be photographs of unusual-looking technology - weapons and vehicles, mostly.

Felicia's brow furrowed. Something looks familiar... Then she realized what it was - a few strange and unusual markings on the weapons. Felicia had seen similar markings elsewhere... when Bridget had disguised herself as a miner at Bone Valley and taken photos of a cave wall.

This couldn't just be a coincidence. Evidently, the FBI was examining the same hypothesis that she was. Were these markings man-made? Or did they have a more... alien origin?

Felicia did not approach the screen, but quietly took photos of the computer screen with her watch-camera. Such a handy little gadget... She'd study the markings again later.

As she stepped away from the station, she spoke softly into her concealed camera. "Bridget, do you copy? I found something pretty interesting... Bridget? Hello?"

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

Several stories above, Bridget, along with Bobbi and Zuhal, were making their way to the FBI's records room, taking a dark and quiet side passageway to get there.

"Why isn't Felicia responding?" Bobbi asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"She might be on a basement level," Bridget said, feeling somewhat concerned herself. "The radio signals wouldn't pick up if she's far below ground. Maybe..." She bit her lip. "Maybe we shouldn't have split up."

"You gals worry too much," Zuhal mused. "Can we focus on the job at hand? We're here to dig up info on my idiot ex-boss. Let's focus on that and then we'll worry about your redheaded friend."

Bobbi felt herself getting angry. She was about to respond when the sound of a door slamming interrupted her thoughts.

Bridget turned around. "Someone there?"

All was quiet. The trio appeared to be alone.

"Probably just the wind," Zuhal shrugged.

"Wind?" Bobbi rolled her eyes. "This isn't some lame-ass haunted house. Doors in an FBI facility don't just blow open and shut from the wind."

At that moment, a small silver canister bounced its way into the hall.

Bridget immediately recognized what it was. "Run!"

But it was too late. The canister exploded, spreading a thick gas across the perimeter.

Bobbi and Zuhal each got in only a brief, momentary whiff. But it was enough. The women began feeling dizzy, and then slowly slumped to their knees.

"You... idiots..." Zuhal muttered.

"How is... this... our fault..." Bobbi countered.

Both fell to the ground, unconscious.

Bridget held her breath entirely, looking for a window or vent that could let the air out, But there were none in the area - and it was getting difficult to see through the gaseous fog.

Suddenly, Bridget saw something - a fist. It flew out of the fog and hit her squarely on the chin.

"Ungh!" Bridget fell to the ground. As she struggled to rise, she involuntarily took in a gulp of air.

"Damn it..."

And all three were out for the count.

Chandra and Sonja emerged from the fog, both sporting thick gas masks. Once the ether had dissipated into the air, the women removed their masks. They were both grinning like cats that had shared the canary.

"So simple," Chandra cooed. "It's amazing, the sort of equipment you find when raiding a FBI supply room."

Sonja eyed Zuhal strangely. "Who's this? I've never seen her before."

"Well, she's as much our prisoner as the other two," Chandra mused. "Come on, let's get these three morons out of sight."

She grabbed Bridget by the underarms and dragged her into a nearby closet. Sonja followed with Bobbi and Zuhal.

"We'll strip-search them and tie them up," Chandra explain. "Then we find someplace far from here and interrogate them. Make them tell us where we can find Lucille."

"What if they don't know?" Sonja asked.

Chandra chuckled. "That'll just be too bad for them."

Welcome back Ashley...I guess now she is ready for the well known " Tirepanted' s paradigm" , and soon she will be a uniform stealer

Like they say " if you can't beat them..."


Hey hey where are the color guards