Uniform Stealing Board

Loyalties

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

"Units 1 and 2, this is mission control." the female voice said in their hidden tiny earpieces.

"We're in position." they answered in their hidden tiny microphones.

"Get ready. According to my intel, she will arrive soon. Remember, failure is not an option."

"Roger."

They waited a few more minutes. The alleyway was empty. Not many people knew about it. Then...

“This is her.”

“Check the files.”

“I don't need to. I memorized them. This is Emma EverLand. The one I have to stand in for.”

“Mission control was right about her habits. Exactly in the alleyway they told us to wait.”

Emma EverLand was a gorgeous-looking socialite with deep green eyes and short ginger red hair cut in an asymmetric cut. The right side was longer than the other, with a bang covering her cheek. She was wearing a long black a-line dress, simple but elegant, that was highlighting her figure, and a pair of dark brown pantyhose. It was a warm afternoon and therefore she didn't need a jacket. Her neck was adorned with a golden necklace and there were golden and silvery bracelets on her wrists. She was walking in low-heels, and carrying a brown leather purse. While the ginger was of average height, she had a beautiful face and was walking with a natural elegance that helped her attract a lot of attention and climb the social ladder. Her graceful bearing reminded of the beautiful blondes of the Province of Hera, which was all the more surprising since Emma actually hailed from the Province of Ares – a Province that she left as soon as she could because her soft art-and-literature-loving nature was putting her at odds with her fellow countrymen and women.

Currently, the young socialite was unaware that two pairs of eyes were watching her from the tainted windows of a white van. The vehicle was parked in the middle of the empty alleyway she was using as a shortcut.

“Remember mission control's instructions.”

They opened the backdoor of their van and jumped out of the vehicle.

Emma froze in fear.

The two women jumped her.

“The sleeping drug! Make her breath it!”

“What... Who are ymmmpphhh?!”

A hankerchief soaked with sleeping drug was pressed against her nose and mouth, silencing her question.

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

Officially, former-special-combattants-turned-rogues Yuna and Cynthia were sentenced to fifteen year jail sentences for insubordination and attempted murder, as they helped Emery when the latter disobeyed her orders to try to kill Aster and her friends.

Unofficially, they were given a choice: rot in prison or accept to carry out missions for the new government in the greatest secrecy. Of course, they chose the second option. As if it was a choice anyway...

So now, they were the errand girls of Cérès and her pals, used for black ops missions. Expendable pawns in short.

With a tracking chip to ensure that they wouldn't try to escape. They were also forced to permanently keep on themselves a hidden tiny microphone and a hidden tiny earpiece in order to always maintain contact with mission control. The woman on the other side of the line would often call them to give them instructions, or simply to tell them to act faster.

Cynthia and Yuna were both in their early thirties, though due to her small size and hairstyle Cynthia looked younger than she really was. Yuna was a woman of average height, slightly more fit than average, with a light skin, blue eyes and red shoulder-long hair. Cynthia's black hair were tied into two small girlish pigtails. She had a light skin and brown eyes.

Both women hated their current situation.

They hated having no freedom. They hated being forced to still work for the government against their will and being regarded as expendable cannon fodder.

They hated their superiors. They were derisively calling them the 'Cushy Numbers'. Men and women wearing nice-looking suits, who never saw a battlefield in their lives, and who thought they could order them around.

Emery had many flaws, but she was a true fighter. When she was talking about things like dying in mission, she was speaking from exprerience. She was sparing with compliments and had little tolerance for failure, but she trained them well. As a human being, she was horrible. But as a teacher and as a trainer, she was fair and efficient. She taught them well and they respected her.

And now they had to be ordered around around by a bunch of fat cats who thought they were great strategists...

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

“LHHHT MMMHHH GHHHH!”

Emma EverLand was considered a weakling by her countrymen, but she was still raised in a Province that was traditionally putting strength and physical achievements over everything else. Therefore, her first instinct when being mugged was to try to fight back.

However, her attackers were way out of her league.

“Mpphhh! Gmppphhh!”

With one arm, Yuna was encircling her waist and blocking her arms, pinning them to her side. At the same time, Cynthia was holding her legs and lifting them up. Therefore, Emma wasn't in contact with the ground anymore. She was jerking in every direction, desperately trying to escape their grip, but she didn't have the momentum necessary to break free.

“Mmmm... Mmmm...”

Emma dropped her purse. Her struggles weakened. The fumes were overtaking her.

Yuna was mentally counting the seconds.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm...”

After 45 more seconds, their victim's entire body went limp as she was put to sleep. This new kind of sleeping drug was way more efficient than chloroform, and with no side-effect. Perfect to capture someone...

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

Their latest mission had been given to them by Isabel Blaum, a plump short chestnut-haired woman who was in Cérès' good graces, and therefore was given a well-paid job in the intelligent services. She was considering herself a great strategist, but she had actually studied a lot more buffets than books of war. In truth, she was nothing but a glorified messenger, relaying the instructions of Cérès or another actually smart decision-maker. It didn't prevent her from looking scornfully at Yuna and Cynthia every time they were in the same room.

Theophano Eudokia, eldest daughter of House Eudokia, was meeting some mysterious business partners today in her private box at the opera house of Olympus City. At the same time, her brothers were meeting other business partners in a café terrace of the old town's pedestrian area.

Yuna and Cynthia were tasked with taking pictures of these people to identify them. The Eudokias were maybe part of the new government and were officially supporting the Federation, but a lot of other government members didn't fully trust them, especially Cérès. They were hoping to dig up a scandal that would discredit the Eudokias, and would therefore allow them to get rid of the the last Olympian House that still held power over the country.

To infiltrate the opera house, mission control had a plan. Among the guests attending to the play at the same time as Theophano, there was Emma EverLand. A socialite who was going to see the play alone, and who shared roughly the same hair colour and general figure as Yuna.

To spy on the brothers, Cynthia would have to improvise...

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

“Move her faster!”

“I would like to see you do it! She's heavier than she looks...” Yuna retorted.

“Let me remind you that she has roughly the same size and built as you, so you're calling yourself fat.”

“We don't have time for snarky jokes. Stay focused.”

Currently, she and Cynthia were loading their unconscious victim in the van.

A voice interrupted the two women.

“Umm... Excuse me? What are you doing here?”

Another woman was standing in the alleyway, which she was apparently using as a shortcut to go to work. She was carrying a case. The newcomer was wearing something the two spies would never have expected seeing one day. A medieval-like costume: golden yellow tunic, shoes, and pants, and also a matching golden yellow medieval-like beret with a long feather. The woman's face and hands were painted gold with body paint, and there was also some golden dye in her reddish brown hair. She had hazel eyes, a heart-shaped face, and was slightly shorter than average.

“Hey, I recognize you. You're one of these street artists that perform as living statues in the old town's pedestrian area...” Cynthia commented.

“What? Uh... Well.. Yes... But why are you... with this woman...?”

The street artist understood that she had to run away. Very fast. She dropped her case and turned tail.

“Get her!” Yuna said to her partner.

The street artist tried to flee. However, a costume wasn't the best article of clothes to run in. Cynthia easily grabbed her by the collar.

“Don't leave so soon!”

She clamped the soaked handkerchief over her victim's mouth and nose. The street artist's scream was muffled by the piece of cloth. Cynthia then made her lose balance and, while keeping a firm hold, took a few steps back. Unbalanced and bent back, the girl couldn't struggle effectively. Her beret fell on the ground. She tried to grab her mugger's arms, but Cynthia caught one of her wrists with her free hand. With only one hand, the poor woman couldn't loosen her attacker's grip, all the more since she was panicking and couldn't think straight. “Now, just breathe and relax!” the spy ordered to the frightened woman. “Just breath and relax...” The woman's frantic struggles actually made things worst for her, since it also meant that her breathing quickened. Which made the fumes take effect quicker as well. Her eyes flickered. Her movements weakened, as well as her cries. “There, you see? Just give up. As you artists say, it's curtains for you!” The woman's body relaxed, as she fell into a deep slumber and into Cynthia's arms.

“And now?” she asked her partner.

“We can't let her wander freely.” Yuna said. “We load her in the van too. Grab her case and her beret.”

Cynthia dragged the sleeping woman.

“Well, at least this one is lighter...”

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

"Units 1 and 2, this is mission control. What's your status?"

"We've aquired the disguise. Don't sweat it!" Cynthia answered in her hidden microphone.

"Remember your place, Unit 2."

The short woman clenched her teeth. "I apologize."

"Apology accepted. Now carry on with the mission."

"Roger."

Cynthia remained in the back of the van with their two captives while Yuna drove them to a less crowded part of the city center. In their country, Olympus City wasn't merely a town. It was THE town. Generation after generation, the Twelve Factions extended it. The city center was already as big as a normal town...

Since she didn't want to waste time for now, Cynthia simply zipped the two sleeping women's wrists behind their backs and also zipped their ankles. She and her partner would have to untie at least one of them to steal her clothes anyway. The short woman however took the time to already gag their victims thoroughly. She wound several layers of silvery duct tape around the two women's lower face, completely obscuring (and sealing) their mouths.

Once the vehicle was parked, Yuna climbed in the back on the van and closed the door.

“I checked her wallet. Her name is Rachel Elizabeth Chase.” Cynthia commented while pointing at the street artist. “I have to admit that she's using top-quality body paint. I didn't even rub it out when I...”

“You know what I'm thinking?” Yuna interrupted her.

“What?”

“Since your job will be to watch the café terrace until the Eudokia twin brothers and their guests arrive, wouldn't posing as a street artist be a good cover?”

“Between that and your infiltration of the opera house... Is this mission arts-and-crafts themed?”

However, in spite of her dig, Cynthia was eyeing the golden costume with interest.

“Do you think the underwear match? That they're golden yellow?”

The short woman apparently decided that it was time to find out.

She (of course temporarily) untied the sleeping woman. Cynthia unbuttoned the tunic, removed it, and pulled on the plain white shirt that her victim was wearing underneath. The shoes were removed and the pants were shimmied down Rachel's legs.

The street artist was wearing a neon multi-color sports bra with a chevron pattern and matching panties and socks. The undergarments gave a 'modern painting' vibe, but they certainly weren't golden.

“I am very disappointed.”

Cynthia threw off her own civilian clothes and slipped into the costume. At the same time, Yuna zip-tied Rachel's wrists and ankles again. Then she encased her legs and upper-body in tape.

Once Cynthia was fully disguised, Yuna helped her partner cover her face and her hands with golden body paint stolen in Rachel's case, then she put some golden dye in Cynthia's black hair.

“I will drive you to the pedestrian area, then I'll go to the opera house.”

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

After dropping her partner, Yuna drove to her own destination and parked her van in an alley nearby. She climbed inside the back of the van again. This time, it was her turn to put on her disguise.

She ignored the still blissfully asleep Rachel, and unzipped Emma's limbs to be able to remove her outfit. She unhooked the woman's black dress and made it slide, before taking off the pantyhose. She also stole the necklace and the bracelets. She checked the ticket in the brown purse. “Perfect...”

Emma's light snoring brought her back to reality. Weird how something a socialite would consider very un-dignified can also be strangely adorable...

However, Emma's angelic sleeping face didn't stop her mugger from thoroughly binding her this time. Besides the two zip-ties, she wrapped several layers of tape around her victim's legs and upper-arms.

Finally, she took two medical masks and poured a small dose of sleeping drug on each. Then she put the masks over Emma's and Rachel's mouth and nose. Now, with each breathing in, they would also breath sleeping gas, which was going to ensure that they would continue their nap and wouldn't wake up at an inopportune moment to expose their imposters. The tissue was very thin, therefore even with their mouths sealed they could breathe through it with no problem. With the dose she poured on them, these chloro-masks were going to keep the two captives asleep for roughly one-to-two more hours.

However, Yuna wasn't worrying too much about the fate of the two innocent women she captured. She was indeed supposed to make sure that the people she and Cynthia mugged were found quickly after they accomplished their secret mission. Isabel told them that the point was to send a message to the Eudokias. They would easily connect the dots after learning that women were mugged for their clothes near them. Therefore, they would understand that Cérès was sending them a warning.

Personally, Yuna thought that the idea was stupid.

A voice suddenly talked in her hidden tiny earpiece. “Unit 1. What's your situation?”

“About to enter the opera house.” she whispered in her tiny microphone.

“Continue the mission.”

Yuna clenched her fists in anger.

“Roger.”

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

The opera house was full. Today's performance was some big loud historical play, with a huge choir, and all the performers were wearing medieval-looking costumes. Perhaps this was also why Rachel the street artist was wearing medieval-like clothes? There must be some kind of festival... She couldn't care less.

Yuna had the expensive clothes and the ticket that were allowing her to enter the building. The counter clerk didn't comment on the fact that she was arriving late: the opera had already begun.

Most people weren't going at the opera for the play anyway. They were doing it to be seen, to show off their wealth and their good taste to the rest of the high society. Or to meet in private boxes and discuss secret arrangements.

And Yuna was here precisely because of that last reason.

Yuna chose to not go to her seat (or, more precisely, Emma's seat). She wouldn't be able to see Theophano's box from here. Instead, she pretended to go to the restrooms, and then quickly and discreetly entered the opera's wings.

Yuna carefully pondered her options and she came to the conclusion that there were two ways to be get a good look in Theophano's box: she could either disguise herself as a waitress to enter while pretending to bring drinks, or find a costume to gain access to the stage to be able to take pictures with her hidden camera.

In both cases, the best place to find a suitable disguise was in the wings.

From now on, she had to be careful. She was in the restricted part of the building. No guest was supposed to go there: this was the wing reserved for the performers and the staff.

After a quick search, she located the dressing room used by the female performers and went inside.

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

The room was empty. It was at the same time a changing room, a break room and a restroom for the female performers. In the main room, there were lockers and coat hooks, on some of which scarves were hung, and a big table where a lot of props were lying. There were also doors leading to individual restrooms and another door leading to a room with armchairs, a coffee machine and a microwave oven.

The spy quickly searched the room to try to find a spare costume, but there wasn't any among the props. It would have been too easy... She looked at the lockers, pondering if trying to pin them was worth the effort. Maybe I should stick to the 'waitress' plan...

Suddenly, she heard the doorknob being used. Yuna quickly hid behind a recess in the wall.

A lone woman entered the dressing room.

The woman was a member of the chorus currently on stage. She looked like she was in her late twenties, with a soft oval face. She had amber eyes and midback-long black hair, but Yuna suspected that it was a wig. The chorister was wearing a medieval-looking dress that buttoned up the front with big round golden metallic buttons. The dress was black, except for the collar which was golden yellow with a light brown diamond-pattern and the wrist-long sleeves that were light-brown with a pattern of golden flowers. Around her head and forehead, the chorister was wearing a diadem. The diadem's decoration comprised an openwork tracery of luxuriant stems dotted with palmettes, rosettes, foliage, and a variety of flowers. It was the reproduction of a famous historical diadem and while it was obviously not real gold, the imitation was flawless. Indeed, the opera house had money to spend when it came to the costumes...

Yuna was wondering why a member of the chorus would be off-stage in the middle of the play. Then the woman quickly entered one of the restrooms and eveything became clear. Figures... the spy thought to herself. She guessed that it was the perk of being part of the anonymous crowd of the chorus: in case of emergency, it was easy to go away for a moment...

Speaking of which... The play will still last about an hour... And I'm sure that nobody will notice if the chorister who left the stage only returns ten to fifteen minutes later... I'm also sure that nobody will notice that the chorister returning isn't the same woman...

It looked like she had found her way to access the stage after all.

The table in the middle of the dressing room was littery. Among other props there was a roll of thick black tape, usually used to secure the equipment, and probably forgotten here by one of the technicians. The tape was strong and resilient. Yuna smiled and grabbed the roll.

She kicked out the heels she was wearing to give herself a better freedom of movement, and entered the restroom.

The good news, at least for her, was that the chorister had already exited the stall and was washing her hands.

The woman noticed the newcomer's presence and raised her head just as Yuna was closing the door.

The chorister looked at Yuna. Yuna looked at the chorister.

Yuna jumped.

The chorister opened her mouth to scream.

Just as Yuna was grabbing her victim, the big song marking the end of the second act began. The chorister's desperate calls for help were drowned by the music and the chants.

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

The black hair were indeed a wig. The choristers were probably all wearing the same model. The woman's real hair were copper, and tied into a small chignon. Between Emma, Rachel and you, is this Fifty Shades of Red?

Yuna left the chorister seated on the tiled floor in a corner of the room, with the white full slip she was wearing as undergarment as her only article of clothes left. Yuna even stole her shoes and socks. The copper-haired woman's hands were taped behind her back. Black tape was also wrapped around her ankles and her legs. A wrap-gag was ensuring her silence, completely covering her lower face. She was still blissfully unconscious and her head was resting on the tiled wall.

Yuna threw the dress she was wearing on the ground and slipped into the costume. This new dress wasn't really designed to be worn with bra and boyshorts as only underclothes, but the spy ignored the slight itches. She then put on the wig and adjusted the diadem around her head and forehead.

She left the room and closed the door. Then she grabbed a black marker and wrote 'Out of Order' on a sheet of paper that she taped on the restroom's door.

It was time to go on stage...

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

Thanks to her new costume, no technician or stage-manager tried to stop her.

Yuna arrived on the stage, hidden behind the rest of the chorus. She scanned the different private boxes where the rich members of the audience were until she located Theophano's gorgeous ruby-red sparkling dress. The heiress wasn't alone and didn't seem very interested in the opera. She was busy talking with the other people in her box.

Perfect.

The stage-managers weren't looking at her currently. This was the big solo of the top of the bill. All the eyes were set on the buxom blonde wearing a warrior maiden attire. The other choristers had their backs turned on the impostor, so they didn't notice when Yuna pulled out the special camera she was given for her mission. The device looked like a screen phone, but was in reality capable of taking extremely well-detailed pictures and to zoom in extremely far.

Yuna took several pictures of Theophano and her guests. She didn't recognize the two women and the man talking with her, but she was sure that the 'Cushy Numbers' would.

Not wanting to risk being exposed as a terrible singer, she walked to exit the stage as soon as she had taken enough pictures.

Unluckily for her, one of the stage-managers noticed her departure and approached her to ask her what was going on. Just like the other stage-managers, she was wearing black clothes to remain invisible to the audience: black shoes, black pants, and a black shirt. She was wearing square framed glasses, a pen over her right ear, and had loose armpit-long hair, although the spy couldn't discern their colour in the half-light. She was holding a copy of the script under her left arm.

Yuna put her hand on her stomach and pulled a face, pretending to be sick.

However, the spy had the bad luck of coming across a concerned woman...

“Sophia, it's the second time!” Apparently, since there wasn't many light behind the stage, the stage-manager was mistaking her for the chorister who already left once – not aware of the real Sophia's current predicament. “I'll go with you to the restrooms this time. We'll call an ambulance if you don't get better.”

Yuna couldn't turn her down without taking the risk that the woman would realize that she wasn't who she pretended she was, because of her voice. She nodded, keeping her face in the darkness.

On their way to the restrooms however, Yuna realized that a pair of pants and a shirt were more comfortable to walk with than a dress...

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

“I suppose I should apologize. If the world was fair, people wouldn't have bad things happening to them because they wanted to help others...”

Sadly, in her line of work, taking advantage of other people's kindness was a good strategy to aquire a disguise. Yuna was a professional, so she had long since accepted that fact, but it didn't mean that she had to take pleasure in it. She wasn't like Presa...

“Though don't worry, I will call the police to mention about you and your chorister friend as soon as I'm out of their reach.”

The stage-manager, whose name was Delphine according to her name-tag, couldn't answer as she was currently unconscious. Her head was resting on Sophia's shoulder. The chorister, from her part, was awake now. But she was too busy angrily mewling in her gag to listen.

Delphine actually recognized Yuna as an impostor on their way to the dressing room in spite of the wig, proof that she was good at her job and knew the faces of the performers, even the unimportant choristers. Unfortunately for her, she realized the truth while they were in an empty corridor. Therefore, Yuna easily overpowered, hand-gagged and immobilized her. Then a quick threat and a brief pinch on a nerve to cause a jolt of pain convinced Delphine to follow her captor's instructions with no resistance. The spy led her to the dressing room, then to the restroom in which Sophia was already stashed.

Unwilling to have to deal with frightened questions or a fit of hysteria from the terrified woman, Yuna opted to immediately knock her out with a nerve pinch. Delphine didn't even have the time to understand what was going on or to feel pain when the spy grabbed a precise part of her body between the shoulder and the neck. She froze, then crumbled in her captor's arms, who laid her on the floor.

Yuna wasted no time stripping the stage-manager down to her white bra adorned with a pattern of small black musical notes, pink floral-embroidered panties, and blue socks.

Since she used most of the roll of tape to secure Sophia the chorister, she didn't have enough tape left for Delphine. Yuna found several scarves in the coat hooks of the dressing room. They probably belonged to some of the performers actually on stage. The spy tested their resistance. They seemed good quality and pretty durable. She grabbed three: one red, one blue and one green, and used them to respectively tie together the woman's ankles, knees, and wrists. There were some clean multicolored handkerchiefs on the table among other propres. Yuna grabbed a fistful and shoved them inside Delphine's mouth. She then used a fourth white scarf as a cloth gag, tightly knotting it behind the woman's head.

Yuna had noticed with dispassionate surprise that the stage-manager's hair were light red and there were freckles on her cheeks. After ginger red, reddish brown, and copper red, yet another shade of red... She scratched her own red hair. Who cares anyway? There are stranger things out there...

The spy ignored Sophia's muffled antics while she was busy slipping out of the medieval-like dress or when she was putting on Delphine's still warm pants and shirt, then her shoes. However, she realized that the woman would struggle to try to break free the moment she left the restroom. She approached her.

Sophia stopped struggling and looked at her with terrified eyes, shaking her head as if to say: 'No, I'll be good, I promise!' Yuna grabbed a specific part between the neck and the shoulder. The nerve-pinch made Sophia briefly twitch, then her body relaxed as she lost consciousness and her head fell on the side, resting on Delphine's.

Yuna grabbed Delphine's discarded square framed glasses and put them back on her nose. However, she kept the pen and the script.

She put the pen over her ear and wedged the script under her right arm, reasoning that it would help her blend in until she left the building through the service entrance.

She left the restroom, gaving some intimacy to its two bound-and-gagged unconscious occupiers.

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

Yuna left the opera house without a hitch. She was driving the van to go collect her partner when Cynthia called her.

“Yes?”

“Can you come and pick me up quickly?”

She was sounding hurried. Yuna frowned.

Something was wrong.

“Is there a problem? Did they spot you?”

“The Eudokias? No, of course. But...”

“You couldn't take the pictures?”

“Yes I took them, but...”

“Did someone ask you about Rachel?”

“No! I...”

“Then what?!”

“I may have slapped a kid.”

There was a pause.

“Cynthia...”

“Hey, he was asking for it! He messed with my costume!”

“This is not your costume.”

“I stole it fair and square. Anyway, can you hurry? The mother is driving me nuts...”

Yuna sighed.

“I'm coming for you...”

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

After picking her partner up and parking the van somewhere, Yuna was now in the back of the vehicle once more, helping Cynthia to remove the body paint and dye. She was using a make-up remover found in Rachel's case.

The aforementioned Rachel and Emma were still sleeping in a corner of the van. The chloro-masks were effective.

“I sent the pictures to Isabel. Not even a 'thank you' or a 'well done'. She's acting as if she did everything.” Yuna informed her partner.

“The usual.” Cynthia bitterly commented, for once having no quip.

Even though mission control could hear her, Yuna couldn't help but add: “And anyway, was this a grand noble mission? Spying on a few politicians, knocking out civilians who can't even fight back? I didn't join the special combattants for that!”

“Why did you join the special combattants anyway when Emery assembled her team?” Cynthia asked. She wasn't taking things lightly, a proof that the subject was important in her eyes.
The short woman added: “I mean, for me, joining Emery's squad was my best option. I wasn't excactly a parangon of virtue when I was working for the Rebellion. I may have ignored orders several times, and it was the only way to avoid facing the justice. But you...? Don't you have a family back home? Why didn't you return to them after the end of the civil war?”

Yuna remained silent for a moment.

Then she finally explained: “Because I didn't want to end like my Ma'... Living all my life in the same village, never travelling, having to raise a half-dozen kids and to work in the cattle farm until my back was knackered...”

“Units 1 and 2, this is mission control. You stayed two minutes more than what you were supposed to in the van without a reason. Move.”

Yuna sighed and grabbed the hidden microphone. “Roger that.”

She grabbed the script and the pen she stole from Delphine, and quickly wrote something on the first page. Can't stand them anymore. I have no loyalty to Cérès. Loyalty goes to Emery.

Cynthia silently nodded. She was sharing her sentiment.

Yuna then teared the part of the page on which she wrote and swallowed it to make the proof disappear.

Yuna and Cynthia, the reluctant clothes stealers

rufusluciusivan, please send back Presa...

there is a point I still can't understand, the part about 'sending a message' to the Eudokias... I don't share Yuna's opinion

Personally, Yuna thought that the idea was stupid.

...but the idea has to be elaborated ( maybe by writing a message on the bodies)

well a wonderful new tale, even if the lack of enthusiasm of the protagonists exacts a toll at some point

but after all I guess it is an 'interlocutory' scenario and tale, it looks like you are building something greater

Ah, your comment after "Rescue Operation" about Cynthia and Yuna being recruited into black ops proved prophetic. Nicely done. I was happy to see these two again, reluctant as they may have been to carry out their mission.

A light and fun infiltration story, with the most innovative aspect being the street performer disguise (don't think I've seen that used before). Some great dialogue, as usual - particularly Cynthia's commentary about Rachel's underwear. And the running gag about redheads being mugged was certainly amusing - seems like that hair color isn't quite so common in the Federation.

My first thought was that the stage manager named Delphine was the same Delphine who Mikani had met in the fast-food restaurant. But different hair color and different setting, so probably not. In any case, between this and Trackman's latest story, it's been an unlucky week for stagehands at USB.

I look forward to Yuna and Cynthia presumably trying to escape their government situation. The setup for the big crossover story continues...

Thank you guys!

esercito sconfitto: Yuna thinks the idea is stupid (and in my opinion it's not the smartest move either) because the government is trying to spy on the Eudokias to expose some misdeeds. Wouldn't letting them know that they're being spied on be counter-productive? Her superior (Isabel) has a tendency to try to incorporate her own orders to the instructions she's given... and the result isn't usually the best. I think not every clothes stealer has to be enthousiast about what they do: having all the characters be clones of Klenia or Presa would feel redundant in my opinion. Presa was the exception in Emery's team. The others are professional who only regard stealing clothes as a part of the job. Also, in that specific case, Yuna and Cynthia are forced to work against their will for people they despise, hence their reluctance that is caused more by the identity of the people giving them their orders, rather than by the act of stealing clothes itself.

Tirepanted: I knew seeing these two again would make you happy. The side-story was the occasion to develop these two characters that were more or less extras during the previous story. I'm happy you noticed the street performer's disguise. Yes, in my knowledge, it's the first instance. It's been since the beginning of the previous story that I was trying to find a way to incorportate such a scene. Yep, not the same Delphine. Didn't remember that I used this name previously... With Trackmann's story, the timing couldn't have been worst for them indeed (and for artistic and cultural professions in general).

A very nice surprise to see your next story arrive shortly after your last one.

I'd never thought of a street artist (Rachel) getting mugged for her clothing, that was a pretty cool and new idea, nicely done.

I enjoyed the way you used the background music and singing to quickly mask the Sophia's cry for help, I know it seems like a small thing but it just the little things like that which give your stories so much life and believeability. Plus I love the classic *out of order* sign on the door routine.

I also quite enjoyed the way you mentioned Delphine's outfit was still warm as Yuna was putting it on, just goes to show how fast she get's things done.

This was an amazing beginning to your next story arc, it's always nice to familiar faces return for another adventure, in this case Yuna and Cynthia, this chapter was very well written, I thought the dialogue's and the interactions between each character, both minor and major were very good and the entire part was an enjoyable experience. I'm genuinely looking forward to seeing where this story goes and seeing what surprises you have tucked under your sleeve. Thank you very much for this great new addition.

I guess I tend to be pessimistic when it comes to my motivation and my free time to continue writing a story... (Only had to work part-time this week, so when I saw that the first part was more or less finished, I decided to hurry up and post it as the rest of the month I'll work full-time.)

Yep, I had this idea for a while and was glad to be able to finally create a scene with a (at my knowledge) completely new kind of clothes. Glad the details around Sophia's or Delphine's scenes caught your attention, I'm trying to regularly incorporate them to flesh out the scenes.

Rufusluciusivan, I feel the need to apologise for not being able to create illustrations based on your stories...(it's because of the well known issue with the 'alternate universes'- you can't really understand their technology, arts philosophy etc )

this said, your writing is great, the novels enjoyable, and all the characters are worthy of being remembered

absolutely no need to be pessimistic or what else.

I reassure you, this has nothing to do with that. I simply meant that I'm very bad at anticipating how much time and energy I'll have left after work.

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

Between two missions, Yuna and Cynthia were allowed to rest in one of the several training facilities owned by the government. Currently, they were in the one located near Olympus City's skyline. From the outside, the place looked like an ordinary office building. Pristine glass windows, geometric cubicles, coffee machines, water coolers, out of order photocopiers, and angry managers. But in its basement...

The two spies' quarters looked like a small apartment: with a living room, a bathroom, a room with sports equipment that they could use to train, and two individual bedrooms.

The door to exit their quarters was constantly electronically locked and there were security cameras everywhere.

Yuna was looking at the TV.

Emma EverLand probably disliked the predicament in which the two spies left her, but one thing was certain: she was now loving the exposure she was receiving. The socialite had received countless messages of support, and she was milking her image of a tragic victim for all its worth.

Cynthia exited the bathroom: she just had taken a shower. The small woman was naked save for a towel around her pelvis.

Yuna eyed her. “You do realize that there are cameras, right?” she said.

“What? They can't handle the wonders of the female body?” The small woman turned to face one of the cameras watching the living room and gave it the middle finger. “There are also cameras in the bathroom anyway, so I bet they get an eyeful to their hearts' content whenever they feel like it...” She approached her partner. “By the way, did we make it to the news?”

“Yes.”

“You don't seem happy.”

“I still think that it was a dumb idea.”

Cynthia minsinterpreted her answer. “Indeed, who leaves a message in such a convoluted way? We should have used Rachel's body paint to write a message on their bodies... Something like... 'Beware, Eudokias!' Or...”

“I meant that leaving a message at all was a dumb idea. Think about it. House Eudokia was maybe considered small fry by the Major Houses, but they are still the ones who managed to come out on top when the ruling families slaughtered each other. Yes, I understand that it's mostly because they were beneath notice. But still, they survived. Would you want to warn them that you are spying on them?”

“Honestly, I couldn't care less.”

The small woman sat on the couch.

“This place is so boring! They do realize that we want to occupy ourselves with something else than training and TV? With all the money they win thanks to us, you think they could spend a little extra to buy us a few game consoles to pass time... Or at least books. I can't stand the dumb emissions on TV anymore!”

“I guess they don't want to waste money on expendable pawns.” Yuna bitterly answered.

Cynthia stopped smiling, and somberly nodded. “Yeah, pawns... That's all we are to them...” She sighed. "If anyone had told me that one day I would miss Emery's training regimen..."

"Emery was harsh, and she could be cruel, but she wasn't like them." Yuna said.

"It's still because of her that we were arrested..."

"Because you would have obeyed Hieron's or Cérès' orders over hers?"

"Of course not. We've already discussed that. Cérès is a bitch. Hieron's ok, but my loyalty goes to Emery."

"And in the end, they treated her like an expendable pawn, just like us. I saw Cérès prancing on TV while you were taking a shower. She disgusts me."

"Me too."

The next following minutes were spent in complete silence. Yuna went to grab something to drink. Cynthia was thoughtfully looking at her partner.

Then she asked:

“By the way, I've wanted to ask you this for quite some time... Would you mind tying me up someday?”

Not many things could make Yuna lose composure but, this time, she spat the water she was currently drinking and froze in surprise.

“What the...?”

The resquest was so... blunt. Yuna stared at her partner. She thought that the small woman was joking, but Cynthia was serious.

“I'm not into girls, you know. Why do you even ask me?” she finally said.

“I'm not asking you to have fun with me, just to tie me up.” Cynthia retorted. “It's a matter of trust. That's the basis of bondage: you have to find a partner whom you can trust. And you're the only one I trust around me if I'm defenseless. I have no one else: Agria and Cleo betrayed us. I have no hard feelings against them, after all they were obeying Hieron's orders. But I don't think I could ever work with them again. Presa was probably killed by the Solomons. And Emery was arrested. We can only rely on each other now.”

While the request was weird, it was indeed a huge proof of trust, and Yuna couldn't deny that a part of her was moved by this display of camaraderie. But still, this request was so... embarassing.

“I'll think about it.”

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

Ruth's eyes were tired because of the time she spent watching the security monitors. Personally, the security guard thought that this surveillance was pointless. And in a way, she felt like an intruder, watching the every moves of Yuna and Cynthia even in their intimacy. She couldn't even blame the latter for her childish displays of rudeness every now and then. However, Cérès was categorical. Even with the tracking chips, these two needed to be monitored constantly. Ruth couldn't argue with the people signing her pay checks...

The security guard had neck-long cinnamon brown hair, tied into a short ponytail. Her eyes were light brown and she had a diamond-shaped face, slightly angular and somewhat bony. Ruth was of average size, but had a fit athletic-looking body thanks to all the time she spent ath the gym.

Ruth adjusted the collar of her dark grey security uniform shirt (which she was wearing with dark blue jeans, a brown belt onto which her weapons and handcuffs were strapped, and thick black shoes), and grabbed a cup of coffee. Her shift would only end in two hours. Two more hours spent looking at her monitors.

Yuna's and Cynthia's quarters.

The building's corridors.

The main entrance.

The service entrance.

She had to look at each of them, successively and in that order.

And then she would have to start again.

Rinse and repeat.

Minute after minute, hour after hour.

Suddenly, she noticed something.

She stared at the monitor displaying the service entrance.

In appearance, everything was fine. There was nobody on-screen. However, the security guard was finding this tranquility odd. Usually at this time of the day, there were people using the alleyway near the service entrance as a shortcut. But today, nothing. It was... unusual.

Ruth put down her cup of coffee. Now that she was more attentive, she realized that something seemed wrong with the footage on most of her screens. The videos seemed... static. As if...

As if it was the same video on loop!

Ruth prepared to rise to her feet.

Something encircled the security guard's neck and throat, then squeezed. Ruth's brain barely had the time to panic, or even to register what was going on. In a few seconds, the blood flow irrigating her brain was interrupted.

Her world became black.

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

When Ruth regained consciousness, the first thing she realized was that she couldn't open her eyes. Something sticky was covering her closed eyelids. She realized that she was blindfolded. With tape, most likely.

She was also feeling something spongy inside her mouth, while the same sticky item was wrapped over her mouth, and around her lower face and neck. More tape.

After all these discoveries, Ruth therefore wasn't surprised to find out that she couldn't move her arms or legs freely anymore. However, a detail truly angered her.

Did they seriously just use my own handcuffs against me?!

Indeed, her hands were cuffed behind her back and a second pair of handcuffs was immobilizing her legs.

Ruth wiggled on the floor. Something else wasn't adding up. Why was she feeling so exposed all of a sudden? The sensation of the floor touching her bare skin gave her the answer. She was half-naked! Outside of her hipster panties and triangle bra, she wasn't wearing anything! (And now she was regretting putting on her chick yellow set of underwear today.) They even took her socks! Did someone just steal her uniform?! But how?! Wasn't this tactic only used by the secret agents of the government?

Is this some kind of drill?

Ruth froze when she felt a soft hand caressing her curves.

“Oh, you're already awake? I didn't think you would wake up so quickly...” a voice softly said. “Well, I suggest that you keep quiet. My girl here will take your place for a while. There are two women I need to collect and I don't want some pesky guard to ruin the party...”

The hand stroked her left buttock and Ruth squirmed in protest. The woman chuckled. If I wasn't blindfolded, I'd memorize your face pal... And I would find you! the security guard thought to herself.

She heard the woman with the soft voice leave the room. However, Ruth wasn't alone. There was still another person. The replaced security guard could hear the sound of thick shoes – her shoes! – on the floor. A pair of hands grabbed her under the shoulder and dragged her in a corner of the room, hiding her next to the shelves. The accomplice then... Ruth understood. The other woman, who was most likely wearing her stolen uniform didn't seem very talkative. According to what Ruth could hear, she simply sat on the rolling chair – her chair!– to pretend to be her.

Ruth groaned in her tape-gag. Give me back my uniform!

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

Isabel Blaum was a chubby woman with a round face, grey eyes, and armpit-long braided chestnut hair. Her skin had the slightly dark shade of the people hailing from the Province of Korê. The woman was attractive, but unfortunately had the bad habit of choosing clothes that weren't showing her off to her advantage. She was wearing a beige suit jacket over a white shirt, and a knee-long pencil skirt matching the colour of her jacket, as well as black high-heels and brown tights. Both the jacket and the skirt were intended to make her look elegant, but they were too narrow for her figure. Therefore, she was bulging out of them.

Alone in her office room, Isabel was celebrating by eating a few of her favorite treats: chocolate truffles. The latest mission was a rousing success. Of course, some members of the board didn't like her idea of sending a warning to the Eudokias. Isabel mentally scoffed. These sceptics just couldn't recognize her genius... It was thanks to her that this mission was a success! To her and no one else! They will have to swallow their sarcasm when they see the results...

The chubby woman didn't regret asking Cérès to put her in charge of Cynthia and Yuna. Thanks to these two little spies and their black ops, her carreer was taking off. Only a few more successes, and she would be promoted...

Isabel sensed some movement in her back. The chubby woman frowned. I wasn't supposed to meet someoe today... However, she didn't have the time to turn.

Someone grabbed her from behind and locked her head into a choke hold. Isabel gurgled a few seconds, trying to protest against the sleeper hold that was cutting off her brain's oxygen supply. Then her eyes rolled and she lost consciousness. Her body went limp on her chair.

Isabel's attacker smiled, then grabbed one of the woman's chocolate truffles and swallowed it. Next, she turned the chair to make her out cold victim face her. Without moving the seated woman, she started to unbutton her suit jacket, then her shirt, before taking both off. Then she took off the high-heels, and pulled off the skirt and the tights.

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

Isabel was unconscious, therefore she didn't see or feel her clothes being removed one by one, but she surely was going to be infuriated by the result once she'd wake up.

Her undergarment actually had the same problem as her other clothes: they weren't the best choice to sublimate her body type. They were too tight and she was bulging out of it. The woman was wearing a purple lacy tanga and a sultry red demi-bra.

Isabel's mugger pulled her victim off the chair and laid her on the floor. She grabbed a few coils of ropes in the backpack she was carrying. Then, she restrained the pudgy woman with a strict hog-tie connecting her wrists and her ankles. She filled the woman's mouth with another sponge and sealed her lips with tape. Finally, she blindfolded her with a more tape.

Next, the woman stripped and put on Isabel's discarded clothes. They were definitively too small for her, but she needed to look like a decision-maker in order to freely explore the part of the building in which the people she wanted to see were located. By leaving a few buttons open, the illusion would work – at least from afar.

The infiltrator dragged Isabel's bound-and-gagged figure under her desk to conceal her. Contrary to the security guard, the administrator was still passed out.

Before leaving the room, Isabel's mugger stole the box of chocolate truffles.

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

Yuna and Cynthia weren't expecting company today. However, they heard the beeping noise signaling that their door was about to be unlocked and opened. With a sigh, the two spies took place in front of the door, showing their empty hands to the camera in front of them.

This was the standard procedure whenever a 'cushy number' would enter.

A woman entered. She was munching on chocolate truffles, and wearing a business skirt-and-suit set very similar to Isabel's.

“Great... Another Cushy Number...” Yuna complained.

“I don't know. This one looks different. She's...” Cynthia frowned. “... familiar...”

The woman was a blonde, with long lustrous hair, soft white skin, blue eyes, tall legs, pronounced curves and a big generous chest. The suit she was wearing seemed too short for her, which was accentuating the curves of her figure.

“Hello.” the blonde said.

Yuna's eyes widened.

“Presa?! But how?! I thought you were dead!”

Indeed, it was their former teammate, that Agria left behind at the Solomon Estate when she betrayed their team. Everybody thought she was killed by the Solomons!

“Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.” Presa said. “And as for finding you... It wasn't easy to track you down, that's for sure. But I managed to penetrate the government's secret servers… with some help.”

“What are you doing here?” Yuna asked.

The blonde chuckled lightly. “What do you think, silly? I'm here to break you out, of course!”

Cynthia and Yuna shared a glance.

“What?! Why?”

“You could say it's a whim. I couldn't stand the idea of two cuties like you being forced to be Cérès' errand girls for the rest of their lives...” Presa smiled. “You haven't forgotten that we were part of a team, haven't you? I had a lot of fun while I was on my own, but honestly I now miss the times when we were working together. We don't need Agria and Cleo, but we can still rock this world. Just the three of us...” She paused and briefly thought. “So I guess it makes us more something like a trio instead of a team... The Terrible Trio!”

She striked a pose.

Yuna and Cynthia blinked.

“You're right... It's not a good idea. I think that the name is already copyrighted by a comic book company...”

“Listen, it's not like we don't appreciate the intent, but... You do realize that there's a tracking chip implanted under our skin?” Yuna said.

“And they have probably already seen you in the security cameras...” her partner added.

“I wouldn't worry about the security guard monitoring you today. She can't call for help, she's all tied up currently.”

There was a pause.

Presa smiled. “Oh yes, I went there... I dared to make the pun... Can you believe how long I've waited to be able to set that joke?”

“We don't care about the joke! How did you neutralize the alarms? The cameras?”

“Have I already told you about Alexie? I met her after I was separated from the team. She's simply a marvel... Also, she's a computer scientist. Speaking of which...” The blonde talked in a small microphone hidden in her sleeve. “Yuna, Cynthia, this is your new mission control...”

The two other women froze. The voice was coming from their earpieces.

“Thanks to her, I've taken the control of the little gadgets they're forcing you to wear...” Presa explained. Then, she checked her wristwatch. “We just have the time to leave the building and remove them before they notice that something wrong is happening...”

The other two women shared a glance. They didn't even hesitate.

“Lead the way.” Cynthia said.

“Also, remind me to never citicize you again.” Yuna added.

The blonde beamed. “You don't have to tell me twice!”

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

Alexie, Presa's lover, was a woman with light skin, brown-and-green eyes, and auburn hair worn into a shoulder-long bob. She was wearing a security guard uniform, but the two spies easily deduced that these clothes weren't hers.

“Too bad you came during Ruth's shift.” Cynthia commented. “I wish it was Carina…” She shrugged. “Oh well, at least Isabel got what was coming to her!”

"Oh, don't worry too much about the security guard. Her predicament shouldn't be too uncomfortable, at least compared to Isabel's..." the blonde said.

True to Presa's word, Alexie made short work of the little gadgets used to monitor the two spies. In fact, it felt almost disgustingly easy. A few computer manipulations, a quick incision made by Presa while they were in the back of the van used by she and her lover, and the tracking chips were out of commission.

Once they were free, at last, they could finally discuss about the future.

“So, what's the plan now?” Cynthia asked.

“What do you mean?” Presa asked.

“Well, I assume that you freed us now for a reason. What do we do now that we're free?”

The blonde smiled. “I have no idea.”

“What?!”

“Honey, I'm a free woman now! I live from day to day...”

“Well, from my part, I may have an idea.” Yuna intervened. "Let me tell you..."

A brief but engaging chapter. The scene with Ruth was great - always nice to see a scene from the victim's POV, and this one was more detailed than most. And once again, the humor/dialogue was excellent - Ruth speculating if the mugging was some kind of drill was a hilarious commentary on how commonplace these muggings have become.

I did not expect to see Presa again - part of me first thought it was Selena doing the rescuing - but it's a pleasant surprise. The character did grow on me near the end of "Rescue Operation," so I'm glad to see her back. It seems like there's a grand reunion in the offing; can't wait to see how that turns out.