Unorthodox
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Female agent infiltrates a cult 

The lettering on the front window of the small office read, "Nicole E. 
Hamilton, Unorthodox Private Investigator." Beneath it, in smaller letters, 
was the slogan, "Unusual Solutions for Unusual Problems."

A young woman sat behind the desk in the office.  She wore tight white
pants and a tight red T-shirt.  At 5'5" and 118 pounds, she was a fairly
small woman, but her body was very fit and well-toned.  She had shoulder-
length blonde hair, blue eyes, and a nice tan.

The little bell above the door tinkled.  A middle-aged man with dark hair
and eyes entered the office.  His business suit was rumpled, his face was 
sweaty, and he looked very stressed. "Are you Miss Hamilton?" he asked the 
woman behind the desk.

She nodded and smiled. "Please, call me Nicole," she said. "Have a seat.
What can I do for you?"

The man sat down. "I need you to rescue my daughter," he said in an
urgent voice.

"Okay," said Nicole. "Why don't you start from the beginning, starting
with your name."

"I'm sorry," said the man. "It's just that I'm so stressed out after what's
happened..." He cleared his throat. "My name is Al Fleming," he said. "My
wife died in a car accident about seven years ago.  After her mother died,
my daughter...well, she didn't have a good female role model anymore and 
she became very rebellious.  Now, she's gone off and joined this cult. It's
a bunch of real loony tunes and psychopaths, led by some nut who calls
himself the Prophet.  I tried to get her out of there, but the cult is
surrounded by armed guards and they wouldn't let me in.  I also tried going
to the police, but they said that since she's eighteen years old and joined
the cult on her own, there's nothing they can do.  I'm afraid something
terrible's going to happen to her in there.  There could be another Jim
Jones-style mass suicide or something.  Please, you've got to help me."

Nicole took all the information in.  She had heard of the cult and the so-
called Prophet.  They occupied an isolated compound just outside of town.
There were rumors of sexual abuse and brutality that went on inside the
compound, but nothing could be proven.  The Prophet was also a mysterious
figure, and no one knew his real name.

"All right," she said. "I think I can help you.  But we have to get some
things straight first.  Have you told anyone you were coming to me for 
help?"

Al shook his head. "Good," said Nicole. "Keep it that way.  What goes on in
regard to the cult stays between you and me.  Next issue.  The methods I
employ are different from those of most private investigators.  I can be a
lot more...aggressive than most people.  Are you willing to accept that 
those means will be used in the name of rescuing your daughter?"

Al looked away for a few moments, thinking intently.  Finally, he said, "I
already lost my wife.  I don't want to lose my daughter too.  Do what you
have to do to get her out of there."

Nicole smiled. "Excellent," she said. "Now that the hard stuff is out of 
the way, we can get to the practical matters." At her request, Al provided
his daughter's name - Victoria Fleming - as well as a picture of her.  The
picture showed a pretty teenage girl with red hair and green eyes.  He also
provided the general part of the compound in which he thought his daughter
was staying.

Al cleared his throat. "About your fee..." he said. "Is it okay if I pay in
cash? Before I got to know you, I was kind of nervous about coming here and
I didn't want to use anything that would let my nosy bank know I hired
someone who was...unorthodox."

"Of course," said Nicole. "In fact, I prefer it when people pay in cash.
Makes things a lot easier.  But you don't have to pay me now.  I don't take
a payment until after something's done.  Here's what I'm going to do.  This
afternoon, I'm going to go on a scouting mission around the compound.  After
that, I'd like to meet with you again.  You can pay me for the first mission
when we meet, and if you want to change your mind at that point you'll still
be able to.  Then, later, I'll do the actual mission of...liberation.  Is
tomorrow at eleven okay for our meeting? Or does your work conflict with 
that?"

"Tomorrow at eleven will be fine," said Al, a look of relief spreading 
across his face. "Thank you for seeing me.  I look forward to seeing what
you've found tomorrow."

After Al had left, Nicole began making plans for the scouting operation.
It was the sort of thing that would have seemed strange to most people, but
she was used to it.  Her father had been a detective with the Philadelphia
police department.  Eventually, he had grown disillusioned with the
department's inefficiency, bureaucracy, and red tape.  He had moved to a
small town and started a private investigation service.  Nicole, growing up,
had been fascinated by the business.  She often helped her father with his
investigations when she was a teenager.  Now, she had her own business.

She changed from her regular outfit into camoflauge pants, shirt, and cap,
and put her blonde hair in a ponytail.  She then packed some supplies,
including a camera, a powerful set of binoculars, and her favorite weapon -
a .40-caliber semi-automatic pistol (just in case she ran into any trouble).
When she was all ready, she got into her car and started off for the cult's
compound.

The compound was a few miles out of town, completely surrounded by a high,
barbed-wire fence.  Guard towers rose up at regular intervals along the
barrier.  There was a single, heavily guarded gate as entrance and exit.  
The compound was bordered by forest on two sides.  Parking her car and
slipping into the forest, where she could be well-concealed, Nicole walked
parallel to the fence, observing with her binoculars and snapping the
occasional picture.  She made a crude map of the place based on what she
could observe, and marked on it the place where Victoria was thought to be.
She also counted the number of guards in each tower and made notes of the
patterns of the guards who patrolled the fence.  As she walked along, she
couldn't help noticing the large, red signs posted at regular intervals
along the fence.  Each sign read, "EXTREME DANGER.  10,000 VOLTS.  KEEP
AWAY." With the binoculars, she also caught occasional glimpses of some of
the cult members.  They seemed to be working at various farming tasks.  The
figures were too distant and small to see if one of them was Victoria,
however.

Suddenly, there came the sound of gunfire.  Nicole's hand automatically
went to her pistol, which she was wearing on her hip. The shots came again,
far and distant.  She relaxed.  The armed guards at the compound would
naturally have to have their target practice.  That must be what it was.

Scanning the place with the binoculars, she saw that the guards were still
going about their regular business.  She took a few more pictures, then
started back to her car, sighing with relief when she was safely away from
the compound.

She met with Al the next morning as scheduled.  He gave her an envelope of
cash as payment for her scouting mission.  She told him about some of the
things she had found, then asked if he still wanted her to go through with
the mission.  He still did.

"I know you want your daughter out of there as soon as possible," said
Nicole. "That's why I'm going in tonight."

"You're going in? What exactly are you going to do?" asked Al.

"It's best if you don't know the details," she answered. "But rest assured
that I will do everything in my power to set your daughter free."

He nodded. "But you are going in tonight."

"Yes," said Nicole. "As soon as the job is done, I'll call you.  I have
your home phone number right here on this form..."

"Actually, that's my cell phone number," said Al. "But I'll keep it on and
right next to me all night tonight.  I'm really anxious to get this over
with." He paused and looked directly at her. "Thank you for what you're
doing," he said. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

"Hey, it's just my job," said Nicole with a smile.  As Al was leaving the
office, he turned and said, "Good luck."

As darkness fell that evening, the young private investigator made the final
preparations for her mission.  She dressed entirely in skintight black
clothes.  She placed her .40-caliber pistol in a holster on her right hip,
along with a couple of spare magazines of ammunition.  A small .38-caliber
revolver went into an ankle holster, and a six-inch hunting knife was placed
in a sheath on her left hip.  She also picked up a pair of night-vision
goggles, a lockpick kit, and a shovel.  Just as she was leaving the room, 
she noticed the red light blinking on the answering machine, indicating that 
she had a message.  She decided to leave it for after she came back, not 
wanting anything to take her mind off the mission.

She drove quickly and quietly to the cult's compound. It was now pitch dark.
Parking the car on the side of the road, she put on her night-vision goggles
and started through the woods.  Soon, she came to the spot she had chosen
for the break-in.  It was not only close to where Victoria was being kept,
but also midway between two of the guard towers and the farthest point from
each.

With the shovel, she began digging a hole underneath the electrified fence.
While walking to the break-in spot, she had observed the pattern of the
searchlights from the guard towers.  Whenever a searchlight approached her
digging spot, she melted back into the woods.  She could only hope that the
guards manning the searchlights were concentrating on looking for humans
and not on irregularities in the dirt that might indicate a hole.

Finally, she had dug a hole large enough for her to crawl through.  She
quickly wiggled under the fence and into the compound, staying in the
shadows.  

Footsteps and low voices approached.  She flattened herself against the edge
of one of the buildings.  Two guards carrying AK-47s walked by.  They passed
her hiding spot and headed off into the darkness.  Sighing in relief, Nicole
continued on her way towards the building where she thought Victoria was
being kept.

When she got to the building, she noticed two armed guards stationed right
in front of the building's only door.  There were no windows.  She was
disappointed at the obstacle, but also heartened, because the presence of
the guards indicated that they were guarding something valuable - such as
cult members like Victoria.

Careful not to make a sound, Nicole drew her knife.  She slowly approached
the two guards, staying in the shadows.  When she was close enough, she 
threw the knife with surprising strength and deadly accuracy.  The blade
plunged into the heart of one of the guards.  The second guard, hearing the
faint sound of metal plunging into flesh, turned to look.  When he saw what
had happened to his companion, his mouth opened.  Before he could yell,
however, Nicole was upon him.  With her black-gloved hands, she swiftly 
snapped his neck.  

She glanced around quickly to make sure no one had seen her.  After 
retrieving her knife from the dead guard's chest, she tried the building's
door.  Locked.  She groped at the waist of one of the dead guards and found 
a set of keys.  She wouldn't even need her lockpick kit.  After trying 
several keys, she found the right one and slowly and cautiously pushed the 
door open with her left hand, her pistol in her right.

Inside, the building was revealed to be a barracks-style room, long and
narrow.  There were beds with lumps in them lining each side of the room.
Victoria's probably sleeping in here, thought Nicole.  She reached over to
check the first lump. What she found caused her mouth to drop open in shock.

The lump was not a person at all! Instead, it was a straw dummy covered with
a blanket.  Realizing she had walked into a trap, she raced for the door, 
but it was too late.

A bright light came on.  Nicole, wearing her night-vision goggles, was
blinded.  She quickly yanked the goggles off with her left hand and tried to
see what was happening.

"Freeze! Drop your weapon! You're covered from all sides!" barked a deep 
voice.  Two men with submachine guns had risen up from the back of the room.
Three more men, one with a revolver and the other two with AK-47s, had
appeared in the doorway.  Nicole reluctantly dropped her pistol.

"Hands on your head!" ordered the man with the revolver in his deep voice.
She sighed and placed her hands on her head.  The deep-voiced thug then
searched her while the others covered her with their guns.  She was relieved
of her backup gun, her knife, her lockpick kit, and her night-vision goggles.
One of the thugs picked up her pistol from the floor.  As she was being held
at gunpoint, she wondered how they had caught her.  Had the guards working
the searchlights seen the hole she was digging and laid a trap for her? But
how could they have known she would come into this particular building?

Suddenly, footsteps approached from outside.  The man with the revolver
grinned evilly. "Prepare to meet the Prophet!" he announced.  The men in the
doorway stepped aside to make a path for their leader.

A man wearing fancy ceremonial robes and a mask entered the room. He stopped
and faced Nicole, then removed his mask, revealing himself to be...

AL FLEMING?!

"What the fuck? YOU'RE the Prophet?" sputtered Nicole.

"That's right," said Al.  Now that his mask was off, it was revealed that he
was sneering triumphantly. "Fooled you, didn't I? I came to your office with
a sob story and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.  The dead wife, the
lost daughter...I made it all up and you believed me! You played right into
my hands!"

Little tidbits of information clicked in Nicole's mind. "Fuck! I should have
known!" she said. "Your eagerness to pay in cash...the way you didn't have 
to work at eleven in the morning on a weekday...you not giving your home
phone number...your eagerness to know all the details of my attack plan...
and the fact that your "daughter" didn't look anything like you!" She yanked
her blonde hair angrily. "Damn, I feel like such a blonde," she muttered.

"That's right," taunted the Prophet, rubbing it in.  Only the knowledge that
she would be shot prevented Nicole from leaping on him and choking him.
Trying to control her temper, she asked, "But why did you go to all that
trouble?"

"Because a few days ago, a worried father really did show up at the gates
and demand that we let his daughter out," he answered. "When we refused, he
threatened to go to the police.  I reminded him that his daughter was an
adult and had joined us out of her own free will, so there was nothing the
police could do.  Then he threatened to go to a private investigator.  I
laughed and asked him what kind of private detective would be willing to go
up against a fortified compound.  He looked really dejected after I said 
that and left in a huff.  But then I got to thinking...what kind of private
investigator WOULD be willing to go up against us? I looked in the phone
book and decided that you would.  So I came up with a plan to lure you out
here, where we could kill you and no one would ever find your body.  Oh,
and by the way, your insistence on being so secretive really helped.  I bet
you didn't tell anyone you were coming here, did you?" The Prophet was now
gloating so much, he was actually strutting.

Nicole resisted the urge to fly into a rage, knowing that it would only
give Al more satisfaction.  She tried to think about something else.  She
remembered the blinking red light on her answering machine just before she
left.  That had probably been the real father who was worried about his
daughter.

"Cat got your tongue?" said the Prophet, still smirking. "If you were a man,
I'd have you executed here and now," he continued. "But since you're such a
lovely young lady, I'll keep you around for a while.  I should be able to
get a few good fucks out of you before I have you killed." He turned to the
man with the revolver. "Bruno! Take her to the central dungeon. I'll prepare
my bedroom and send for her when I'm ready.  The rest of you, go back to
your regular duties."

"Yes, boss," said Bruno.  He jammed his gun roughly into Nicole's back.
"Okay, girlie, now march," he ordered.  She was herded out of the barracks,
across an open space, and into the largest building in the compound.  Bruno
directed her to march down a narrow set of stairs and into a basement.

"I got the package," Bruno called out. "The plan worked like a charm.  The
boss'll send for her in a few minutes.  Just put her in a cell."

A fat, uniformed man emerged from the shadows.  He held a pistol in his 
right hand. "Yes, sir," he said.  Bruno walked back out of the basement,
while the fat guard jammed his gun into her back and shoved her into a cell.
He then stared at her lewdly. It was obvious from his staring (and the bulge
in his pants) that he was sexually attracted to her.

"Hey, baby," said Nicole seductively. "Is that a candy bar in your pocket 
or are you just glad to see me?" She paused, laughing at the effect her 
words had on him, then continued. "The big, bad Prophet played a mean trick  
on me, and now he wants me to reward him.  That's pretty arrogant of him, 
don't you think? But you didn't play any trick on me.  Maybe I could reward 
you."

The fat man licked his lips. "What sort of reward did you have in mind?" he
asked.

"Well, I was thinking..." she said.  Her voice dropped off to a whisper.
She stared intently into his eyes, willing him to come closer. He cautiously
stepped closer...closer...

When he was close enough, she suddenly reached out and grabbed him by the
throat with both hands.  He tried to yell for help, but Nicole's choking of
him prevented him from speaking.

"Your reward is a fast trip to meet your maker," she hissed.  With that, she
brutally snapped his neck.  As his body was falling to the floor, she 
snatched the keys out of his waistband.  Unlocking the cell door, she let
herself out.  She then bent over and picked up his gun.

"It's payback time," she said in a sexy and vengeful voice.

Clutching the gun tightly, she made her way up the stairs and out of the 
basement.  At every step, she listened carefully, trying to detect the
presence of any enemies.

Nicole reached the first floor and moved quickly down the main hallway,
passing a kitchen, a dining room, and a living room.  Near the end of the
hallway, she came to a small library.  There was a telephone in the room -
just what she needed.

There was also a guard in the library.

His back was to her and he was facing one of the bookshelves, looking for
something to read.

Nicole quickly launched herself into a roundoff followed by a series of fast
but silent back handsprings.  After several flips, she had covered the 
distance across the room and her feet brutally plowed into the guard.  He
banged his head into the bookshelf, then slid to the floor.  Nicole landed
perfectly on her feet, then dropped down and wrapped her slender but very
strong and deadly thighs around his neck, squeezing with all her strength.
The choking guard was completely helpless in the grip of her muscular legs.
There was no escape for him.  He couldn't even cry out as his face turned
blue and purple and the life was slowly choked out of him.  She continued
strangling him with her thighs until she was sure he was dead.

Nicole got up and regarded the corpse with the calm, cool expression of a
seasoned warrior woman.  She then reached for the phone.  She quietly
called the authorities, saying she had proof of criminal activity at the
compound.  After making sure to remind them that the compound was heavily
fortified and armed, she hung up the phone and started up the stairs to the
second floor.

She went through it room by room, gun always at the ready.  There was no
one there. She then went up to the third floor and did the same thing there.
It was also deserted.  Finally, she came to the fourth floor.

Bruno stood on a small balcony on the fourth floor of the building.  He
gazed out at the night sky and the neat pattern of the guard tower lights.
As the second-in-command of the group, he would have access to Nicole as
soon as the Prophet was done with her for the night.  He found the little
blonde to be very attractive and was looking forward to his time with her.

Suddenly, he heard a noise from his left.  He whirled towards the sound,
drawing his .357 magnum revolver from its holster. There was nothing there.

He then heard a noise from his right.  He began turning, but suddenly a
black size 7 female boot smashed right into his face.  The force of Nicole's
brutal high kick sent Bruno stumbling to the very edge of the balcony.  She
then delivered a powerful kick to his chest.  Bruno went flying off the
balcony and plunged four stories to his death.

Nicole glanced at Bruno's corpse, far down below, with a satisfied look on
her pretty face.  She then went back inside.  On one side of the hall was a
large door with a fancy symbol on it - the Prophet's bedroom.  She calmly
kicked open the door.

There were three men inside.  One was the Prophet.  The other two were two
of his bodyguards.  Both bodyguards reached for guns, but before either of
them could fire Nicole had taken them both out with one shot to the head
for each.

The Prophet promptly wet his pants.  Nicole laughed when she saw it. "You're
a pussy, and you're going to die like a pussy," she taunted him. "The police
are coming, but it'll take them at least ten minutes to get here.  That
should be enough time for some good punches and kicks." She grinned wickedly 
as she tossed her gun across the room.

Al Fleming, A.K.A. The Prophet, put up his fists, thinking he had his chance.
At 5'11" and 180 pounds, he was considerably bigger than the little blonde.
Sure, she had beaten his guards, but that was only because she had snuck up
on them, he told himself.

Nicole suddenly performed a fast front flip that took her directly in front
of her opponent.  Before Fleming could react, she did another front flip,
this time being close enough to brutally kick him as she somersaulted.  She
landed perfectly on her feet and followed her gymnastic attack up with a
roundhouse kick to the Prophet's head.

Fleming shook his head dizzily, then began swinging punches.  Punch number
one sailed over Nicole's head as she ducked.  Punch number two was blocked
by the blonde's slim but sturdy forearm. Punch number three went off wildly
to the side as Nicole dodged.  As for punch number four, it never got
anywhere, because Nicole grabbed the Prophet's arm and twisted it hard
before he could get into his swing.  As he screamed in pain, she drove her
knee into his midsection, then slammed her right fist directly into his
nose.  Blood splattered on his face.

She stepped back slightly, breathing heavily and excitedly. She then nailed
her opponent with a brutal kick to his side.  There was a sharp sound and
a loud wail of pain as the powerful impact cracked one of his ribs. Smiling
coldly and sexily, she spun around, landing a spin kick to the side of his
head.  She then pivoted and hit him with a kick to the other side of his
head, this one coming from the opposite direction.

The Prophet felt as if his head had been run through a garbage compactor.
He stumbled around, trying to gain some sense of control.  Finally, he let
out a loud yell and charged straight at Nicole.  She calmly twisted her
body to the side and fired off a powerful side kick.  Fleming plowed right
into her outstretched leg and was knocked backward.

Nicole did a pretty, one-armed cartwheel towards her opponent.  As he tried
to recover from his abrupt meeting with her size 7 boot, she doubled him
over with a punch to his stomach, then straightened him out with a kick to
his jaw.  A second high kick knocked him to the floor.

She grabbed the Prophet by his hair, then began repeatedly slamming her
knee into his face.  As she hit him, she grunted, "Deceive me? (knee) Rape
me? (knee) Kill me? (knee) I don't think so, asshole!" She gave him one
final knee that caused blood to splatter all over her skintight black pants.
She looked at him with contept and sadistically kicked him in the head as
he lay on the floor.

Nicole rolled up the sleeves of her black top, displaying the muscle tone
on her arms.  Fleming rolled over slowly, making a faint moaning noise.
"Not in the mood for gloating now, are you?" she taunted. "Come on, get up
and fight me, you pathetic piece of crap."

The Prophet groaned, then slowly climbed back to his feet. "Maybe we can
make some kind of deal..." he began, his speech slurred.

She responded by slamming her left fist into his eye. "This is the deal,"
she snarled. "I live.  You die.  Got it?" With that, she began her final
sequence of attacks.  First came a cheerleader-style high kick with her
right leg.  Then came a vicious roundhouse kick with her left.  As her
opponent stumbled around dizzily, Nicole, hearing police sirens in the
distance, decided it was time to launch her finisher.  Pausing briefly, she
put all of her strength into a powerful backflip kick.  There was a loud 
CRACK as the Prophet's neck was broken by Nicole's lethal flip attack.  She
made a neat landing, perfectly balanced.  The Prophet's landing was not so
neat.  His corpse made an undignified landing in the corner of the room.

Nicole, panting with excitement, looked with satisfaction at the dead body
of Al Fleming, the so-called Prophet.  His cult and his reign of terror were
over.  She then bent over and relieved the corpses of both bodyguards of
their guns.  With a .45-caliber pistol in each hand, she calmly walked out
of the Prophet's bedroom, ready to help the police in fighting the remaining
cult members.

She hurried down to the third floor, then down to the second.  As she was
about to go down to the first floor, she heard heavy footsteps pounding up
the stairs.  She aimed her guns at the top of the stairwell and waited.

Two men in camoflauge clothing appeared.  Each of them was carrying an Uzi
submachine gun.  The men stared at her in shock and started to aim their
weapons. Before either man could shoot, however, she had opened fire. Three
large bullet holes appeared in each man's chest.  As they collapsed to the
ground, she hurried past them, raced down the stairs, and scrambled out of
the building.

The cult members who had been held hostage gladly raced over to the safety
of the police lines.  The mercenary thugs who had been hired to help guard
the place, seeing they were outgunned by the police, mostly gave up without
a struggle.  A few of the hard-core fanatics put up a fight, but when they
heard about their leader's death, they too surrendered.

In the confusion and chaos, Nicole quietly slipped out of the compound. She
hurried back to her car, which was still parked where she had left it.  She
then quickly drove home.  After showering and changing into her sleeping 
attire (black panties and a black 34B bra), she turned on the TV news. 

"This evening, over 100 police officers participated in a massive raid to
shut down a fanatical cult," said the newscaster. "Prisoners of the cult
have reported being physically and sexually abused.  The cult's leader, a
man who called himself the Prophet and is now known to be Albert Fleming,
was found dead in his bedroom with a broken neck.  Several other cult
members were also found dead in the same building.  The police do not know
who killed them, but they believe it was the same person who made the phone
call that tipped them off.  Police captain Richard Wallace believes that it
was a professional assassin or mercenary, probably a large, muscular male.
The police also found..."

Nicole laughed and clicked off the TV. "Large male indeed," she chuckled.
"Well, at least no nosy probers are going to come knocking on my door."
With that, she turned out the lights and went to sleep.

THE END

silverstar222b@yahoo.com